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Carlos was gone. Off on a science trip thousands of miles away doing important work that he had been so excited to be a part of. Cecil at first had been excited too, the buzz of Carlos’ constant chatter about his great research project made the smile on Cecil's face feel so light.
Then Carlos left Night Vale.
Then the quiet seeped in as the town seemed to stop living without their beloved scientist.
Then the realization came that he was alone.
Cecil held out for a month before truly falling into that dark hole of loneliness Carlos always kept filled with his presence. He focused on work, on his duties to his town, on Khoshekh. Then a few nights ago he came home, made dinner and sat the table for two only to realize his other half was not coming home to him.
That's when things slowly started to fall apart.
He cried that night, alone in his bed for two, one of Carlos’ favorite lab coats pressed up against his nose trying to pretend the scientist was there. Two weeks later he received a call from Carlos - a rare thing for the mountains around wherever he was working kept the signals jammed-, his happy voice was heaven to hear until the words ‘extending’ and ‘staying’ came out of his mouth.
Another two months were needed for his project. His research needed him to stay within that blasted city without phone service. Away from Night Vale. Away from Cecil's Sight. Away from Cecil's hold.
It didn't take long for Cecil to start to think about the last time Carlos left him. That desert other world that had captivated him so. The year with barely any contact. The dread of choosing Carlos over his town. The weight of realizing Carlos might just choose his science over him this time.
Science was Carlos’ first love afterall. Just as Cecil loved his town more than almost anything. And one day science would take Carlos away to a more fascinating town, to a more interesting life, to somewhere where he was happy outside of Cecil's love.
One day science would win. And Cecil knew that on that day he would surely die for his heart could no longer beat without Carlos near.
Perhaps this was that day? Perhaps it didn't matter for the inevitably of his loss was evident? Perhaps he was destined to be alone, to be cold.
Cecil's eyes stung from his crying. Red and puffy yet too dehydrated to continue to leak. He barely had made it through the day, a special ‘fun fact science corner’ episode pushed him deeper into the spiraling thoughts of losing his beloved and facing the world alone once more.
It was easy to get the bottle of whiskey, though people no longer sold him alcohol upon his stupid order, he knew where his newest secret police detail kept their stash within his house walls. And the message was clear the moment he pulled the brown bottle out of the cavern, ‘tell anyone and they'll know it was you’ so the detail, in all her wisdom, quietly left to leave Cecil with his drink.
Cecil set the bottle on the living room coffee table and sank into his couch. The last time he drank was years ago. When Carlos chose that other place over him.
At first he played it off. Getting too drunk at parties, drinking heavily over his days off, being hungover but sober until the lights of his station turned off. Then Carlos called him less. Then the world started hurting more as it moved on without the sweet scientist.
He had gotten sloppy. Dragging himself into work half sober, -or was it half drunk? he could barely remember,- day after day. The warmth of his drink the only comfort and company he cared to take. People noticed, some even commented, but it was easier when the world, empty of his scientist, was filtered through the numb haze of whatever drink he could get his hands on.
‘If you see something, say nothing, and drink to forget.’ Was a town motto muttered only a quarter jokingly. But people started realizing the flask hidden in Cecil's recording booth was not for the strange and weird.
It was hell being dragged out of that stupor. And to everyone's credit Cecil had not made it easy for them. But eventually, even with the cold emptiness of his home, the town got him sober.
But right now he doesn't have his town. Right now he was cold, and alone, and the world felt so small. Just drink to forget. Forget the pain. Forget the loneliness. Forget that he wouldn't come back this time.
Drink and for a moment forget even his name so he didn't feel so lonely.
Cecil stared at the brown bottle, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. The brand was not to his taste but it wouldn't matter after long. All it needed to do was to numb the pain in his heart, and all alcohol could do that.
Just a sip. Just for tonight. He wouldn't get sloppy this time. He just needed to take the edge off so he could finally stop crying over a man that wouldn't choose him in the end. This time was different. This time he could control himself.
This time he will stop after the first drink.
Cecil reached for the bottle, his resolve to numb himself solidifying in his chest. No one needed to know. It was one drink and he was going through a lot. He deserved this. He needed this. Let them lose someone so dear and see how empty their liquor cabinet got.
He…
Cecil's phone rang just as his finger tips touched the bottle neck. He cursed under his breath at the interruption and debated on even answering his phone. It wasn't Carlos, the ringtone wasn't the periodic table of elements that signaled the scientist was calling. So why bother?
The ringing ended as Cecil grabbed his bottle. It was alright. He just needed one night and he would feel better. He could finally just rest in the numbness.
Strangely, holding the bottle a second time, the desire to drink all his pain away filling every inch of his chest he felt momentarily guilty. After all that hard work to crawl from his downward spiral he would give it all up?
“No, it's just one drink. I'm not an addict. I can stop after tonight.” Cecil said to the empty room to quiet that voice in his head. Then the phone buzzed again and Cecil groaned. He ignored it better this time, still not his scientist, still alone.
He twisted the cap off and took in that bitter smell. The last time, which did not matter because this was nothing like that, the smell became his only comfort after the warmth of Carlos truly left the house. It stained his clothes, his breath, his couch, his work space. In those days he never laid in the bed he had shared with Carlos, thus saving it from the stench.
It made Cecil's heart fall in a way yet his nerves stood on edge. The smell reminded him of that numbness he gets when drunk. Peaceful nothing, no pain or sorrow or happiness. Just moments of a warm gut and a cold heart.
A knock at his door kept him from taking his first sip. He groaned, and ran a hand through his hair just wishing to be in drunken oblivion. The knock came again and Cecil knew whoever was out there would not leave.
Putting the bottle on his coffee table he forced himself up, cursing under his breath every vulgar thing he could think of to rid himself of his annoyance before opening the door. Cecil had to take a minute to squint, not realizing his house was so dark in comparison to the bright afternoon that shone above him.
Carlos likes the curtains open for people and subject watching, yet since he was gone Cecil found he didn't like them so revealing. He had closed them… a month ago? when he sat upon his couch and had longingly looked over to the open window in hopes his boyfriend would be leaning against the glass pointing something out that was ‘not scientifically right’.
After his eyes adjusted Cecil stared up to his brother in law nervously standing on his front stoop. A frown tugged at Cecil's face and he had to use every once of self control not to simply close and lock the door in Steve's stupid face.
“Hey Cecil.” Steve started and Cecil huffed.
“What do you want, Steve Carlsberg? I'm busy.” Cecil snapped and crossed his arms. Steve jumped slightly and laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous jester.
“Oh you are? I hadn't seen any lights on.” Steve muttered and tried to look inside. The hair on the back of Cecil's neck pricked as he realized the bottle could be viewed from Steve's angle and he quickly stood up taller and shifted his weight to hide the relief waiting for him once he got rid of this intruder.
If Steve saw it he would take it away. Probably flush it down the drain. He would tell Abby and they would fuss over Cecil breaking his two year sobriety. But it wasn't a big deal! He shouldn't have to hide it! It wasn't like he was doing anything wrong. He smoked, very legal green drugs that were definitely legal, and no one fussed over his use of that. It would be one drink, that's all.
“Yes, well I'm very busy. And on voice rest. Recording was difficult today. Now can you excuse me?” Cecil muttered bitterly trying to push the door closed yet Steve didn't seem to get the hint and kept one foot in the door frame.
“Abbys worried about you. So is Janice.” Steve said, making Cecil flinch. They didn't need to be. “They heard your show, said you sounded a bit down. Abby tried to call you earlier, said you didn't answer.”
“I'm fine.” Cecil tried to sound his normal self yet it came out more hostile then intended.
“I know you miss Carlos. But I know…”
“You know nothing!” Cecil snapped, interrupting Steve. How could he? He wouldn't lose Abby, she wouldn't run off for work more important than him. He didn't have to compete against a piece of Abby so ingrained into her, that he loved so dearly and yet hated so deeply, that she wouldn't be the same without it. He never had to feel like he wasn't enough.
“Now leave.” Cecil opened the door only slightly to slam it closed whether Steve's foot was in the way or not. For the sake of his door, and a lengthy talking down to by his sister, Steve had the mind to remove himself from the frame before getting hit and was now tripping over his words on the other side of the door.
Cecil waved him off and went back to his couch and the bottle that awaited him. He grabbed it and without hesitation took a bitter sip. It burned the back of his throat going down and made his belly warm in a way he hadn't felt since Carlos left. His phone rang again and he ignored it in favor of his bottle.
It felt good. Too good. Too familiar. Like seeing an old friend he had forgotten existed before they suddenly appeared one day being dropped off from an unmarked windowless black van.
A sigh left his lips, and for the first time, in what felt like too long, a smile crept up his face. It was one drink. Something to help him unwind. Something to soothe his strife. How could it hurt?
It felt good. It dulled the pain, his tears, his heartbreak with every sip. He hadn't been that bad before. Everyone over reacted. ‘If you see something say nothing and drink to forget’ Everyone has seen something at some point. This was Night Vale after all. And he had seen the most things, things that would send people to their graves, things that bent the mind and if you were too rigid it would break you, things that no longer existed outside of his memory.
But it never drove him to drink. Not seeing something was his downfall. That perfect hair, those perfect teeth, that butter smooth voice, that pure white lab coat. Yet the spreading warmth and the fuzzy feeling which took residence in his mind helped take away those bitter sweet feelings for a moment.
Everyone drank themselves to the grave here so why couldn't he? What was so special about him that he couldn't drink to forget? To feel numb? Why did he have to face the world sober when it hurt so damn much?
He hadn't been that bad last time. He kept up his job, his relationships, his home. He wasn't spending every penny on his oblivion, just enough where he could reach it every night. He was alone, he had seen the empty house full of ghosts, and he wished to feel numb about it all.
His phone rang again and Cecil put down the half empty bottle, feeling just dull enough to answer the damnable ringing. The caller id was unknown, and so had the previous calls. Cecil shrugged and answered, waiting to be drugged by some agency or another. It would feel wonderful to have the high of a chloroform nap.
“Hello?” Cecil purred looking around his house wondering where the agent would strike from.
“Cecil? Oh my honey voiced honey, are you okay? You sound terrible.” The voice made Cecil drop his phone, his body freezing against the warmth of the alcohol running in his gut. Carlos? Carlos was calling him. Had been calling him. And he had ignored him. Pushed him away. How could he do that?
“Cece?” Cecil heard Carlos’ muffled voice from where the phone landed on the floor. “Sweetheart, are you there? Look, I heard your broadcast today and I wanted to make sure you were alright.” Carlos let out a little chuckle. “You were right, bringing a Night Vale radio with me helps me keep a channel locked on your broadcast. Somehow…”
Cecil looked to the living room, brown bottle still sitting waiting for him. And this time it felt far from appealing. What would Carlos think if he saw this? He hadn't been there for the worst of his drunken stupper. But that sweet scientist, his sweet scientist, came back just as Cecil was finally getting his legs back under him.
He was there when Cecil stumbled back into hiding a bottle here or there. He was there when Cecil had to fight himself not to just fall into the emptiness of it all. Carlos was there after a bad night at the station left Cecil needing a drink more than ever since he found that bitter relief and helped him through the very long night of craving and anger.
Carlos stood beside him, worry on his pretty face, a caring hand every time Cecil stumbled. Cecil had thought it would've been easy to stop drinking after Carlos came home to him. After all it was because of his absence that made the relief palatable.
But the bottle still called to him even laying in his boyfriend's arms. And it kept calling to him like a siren desperate to pull him from his ship at every bad turn.
“... and then the weather came on and they all questioned if you had made a mistake…” Carlos’ voice broke through the running sluggish thoughts, sounding amused at the outlandish idea, and Cecil flinched.
But he had made a mistake. He was distracted today, thinking too heavily about the bottle that lay within his walls at home. He had played the wrong weather and didn't realize it until someone else pointed it out. But he hadn't cared. He just wanted to be home to drink himself numb.
“But, anyways. I just wanted to check up on you. I know you don't do well alone, I'm sorry I'm gone for so long. You've been keeping the house open right? You know the open windows help…” Carlos trailed off and Cecil had to think for a moment, still too drunk to comprehend, then he realized what Carlos was getting at and Cecil felt his heart break.
Cecil crumpled to the floor, tears burning fresh in his eyes as he barely managed to click the phone over to speaker. “I just miss you.” The Voice forced out, for once not knowing what to say. Could he tell Carlos of his laps this time? Would the scientist stay away if he knew Cecil couldn't be fixed?
Carlos made a noise. “Oh hon. I'm sorry. I'll be home before you know it. What's the date in Night Vale anyways? I know time works differently there.” Cecil bleary eyed glanced at his phone's date.
“17th of march?” Somehow only a month and a half from when Carlos left. Carlos made the noise he only made when something didn't make sense to him. It sent a comforting shiver down Cecil's spine and he held his phone close as an ill replacement for his boyfriend.
“Cece, it's may…” The scientist muttered and started going off on how time shouldn't be that weird.
The little rant made Cecil finally feel at home in his skin, it relaxed him in a way not even the alcohol could soothe and he leaned his head back against the wall of his home, closing his eyes to pretend that Carlos was standing there with him. If he pretended hard enough he could picture the scrunched up face of his boyfriend holding charts and calendars, pointing wildly as he paced like a caged beast.
Then Cecil noticed something and perked his head up. “May?” Cecil interrupted. “Does that mean you'll be home soon?” He questioned, hope barely flickering in his chest.
“Yes.” Carlos mused, a grin clear on his lips. “I only have a few things to finish, and you wouldn't believe how difficult it is to find transportation back to Night Vale… or transportation out.” Carlos muttered something under his breath about not wanting to think about that right now and hummed. “But I should be back soon.”
Cecil felt his heart finally beat in his chest again and felt tears sting his eyes. “Thank you.” He was forced out trying to remember how to breathe.
He wiped the tears from his eyes and noticed the bottle still sitting on his coffee table. And something stirred in his gut, that clawing desire to find refuge away from the loneliness that would come upon hanging up the phone. He had already finished half the bottle what harm would the other half do? It was one drink, he deserved it.
“Just, remember that I love you.” Carlos mused in a cheerful tone yet the tone shifted down, something serious in his voice that rarely ever happened unless he was talking about science. “And Cece, if you need help while I'm away don't hesitate to call your sister, or go to CC. Right?” Cecil flinched and tore his eyes from the bottle.
“R-right. I've been fine Carlos.” Cecil lied not wanting to upset his boyfriend while he was busy with his science. “I can't wait for you to get home.” He added trying to sound better than he felt. One drink… it wasn't that bad.
“Good. I'll see you at the end of the month. And don't worry about my transportation. If I can't find a plane out of here I'll simply start telling people about the secret police and be kidnapped. They'll bring me back to our place after they're done with their questioning pit.” At this Cecil laughed something small. Or Carlos could simply ask the nearest vague yet menacing government agent to fly him back. They seem to like keeping Night Vale residence in Night Vale.
“If you do get kidnapped, ask your officer to send me a message so I know you're in a safe re-education building.” Carlos agreed quickly before making a fightful noise that Cecil didn't quite like.
“I would love to stay and chat, but James, he's who I'm borrowing the phone from because mine just won't stop this visceral buzzing, I think I'm out of long distance minutes. But James is waving me down. I think my computer is now growing a mouth and has stopped talking…” Carlos called something away from the phone and after a minute came back. “Love you, my honey voiced honey. I got to go.” With that Carlos hung up, presumably to go do science on his computer.
Cecil sat quietly on his floor, keeping his phone pressed to his chest wishing with every fiber that Carlos could be with him now. He needed his scientist, even if Carlos didn't always need him.
Cecil looked to the bottle in his living room, replaying the conversation in his head. He didn't need to talk with his sister about this. He was fine. He could stop. He wouldn't finish the bottle! Yep, he just had to prove to everyone that he had kicked the bad parts of his habit. He was fine.
Cecil took a deep breath and stood up, deciding on putting the bottle away. It would taste better properly cold anyways.
He was fine!
He had just wanted to feel a moment of nothing, a moment without his pain. And now that Carlos had called him he was fine. He didn't need to worry about it.
Cecil picked up the bottle and something stirred in his chest. An ache in his soul for just one more drop to put him back in the empty oblivion Carlos’ call had snapped him out of. It would make the night easier. Just a little drop. It wasn't like he would finish the bottle.
He was fine.
He didn't need to go to Compulsion Correction, or talk to anyone about this desire that was eating away at him.
Cecil opened the bottle and took a quick sip. The warmth as it hit his gut made a smile cross over his face. One sip turned to two to help ease him back into that state of numb bliss.
It was insignificant. He was fine. It was just one drink.
Cecil finished the bottle before he realized what he had done and half frowned when he couldn't drink anymore. He tossed the bottle on the table and sighed as the cold loneliness of not having Carlos close ached somewhere deep in his chest. What was one more drink? He could stop himself. He just wanted a moment of peace. He just…
Wished to drink to forget.
~~~~
The next morning came around and Cecil hated how bright the sun was as it streamed in through his curtains. Bottles laid beside him empty and forgotten, the bitter tang of last night binge still on his tongue.
He rubbed his eyes and looked around, dread creeping into his chest as he could hardly remember how he got the bottles that were decorating his living room. He could hardly remember anything from last night except the longing to be numb.
The feeling gripped him, crushing his breath and stealing his thoughts. He slumped against the couch with a groan and grabbed the only bottle that still had anything left in it. He just needed to kill that feeling of dread then he… then he…
Cecil glared at his warped reflection in his bottle. Eyes tired and dull, a frown etched on his face. He noticed the ink on his arm faded and lifeless, barely visible against the blue of his veins.
Then the nausea came. He barely scrambled to his feet and to the bathroom fast enough before throwing up in the sink. He heaved uncontrollably as a rush of purple bile fled from his mouth.
He hated this part. He hated feeling so sick and dull. It was easier to just stay drunk and numb than this…
He just needed another drink and he would feel better. Just one more…
Just…
“Cecil, stop thinking like that.” Cecil said to the quiet room. “It’s not one drink. It's never one drink.” He spat, blood and purple ooze the consistency of ink seeping from between his teeth.
“My name is Cecil Gershwin Palmer and I am an addict. I drink to be numb, and it's been 6 hours since my last drink. It's worse when I'm alone, when I feel like I'm not good enough, when I feel as if I will be abandoned. But it doesn't matter… not really. It doesn't feel good to be drunk, to be that numb. But it feels better than the alternative. My name is Cecil Gershwin Palmer, and I am an addict and I will lose everything if I don't stop.”
Cecil recited to try and quit that sickening pull in his chest. It didn't help. Nothing ever helped. Not when he felt this sick, not when a simple sip could make him feel better.
A walk that is what he needed. Get away from his dark house. Away from the emptiness. Away from himself.
Cecil quickly brushed his teeth to rid himself of the stench of alcohol before changing into a long sleeve shirt. His pale tattoos would give away his state, people would start talking and then Abby, or Steve, or Carlos would hear.
It didn't matter though. This wasn't like last time! He had one drink, everyone has bad nights. He was…
“I am an addict, and I drink to feel numb.” Cecil interrupted his own thoughts. He should tell them himself, before the town told them. He just hoped Carlos would understand.
Cecil didn't care where his walk took him. He simply walked, keeping his eyes down and his large hat covering his face. At first his legs carried him past a liquor store which he noticed still had a photo of him up on a do not sell list.
But it wouldn't matter if he applied himself. All he would have to do is start talking. Smooth made for radio Voice, dripping in a low purr at just the right frequency. He wouldn't even have to pay. The seller wouldn't truly notice, it would all settle as an unnerving hum that sat at the back of their mind never fizzling into a realized thought about what happened.
Cecil shook the thought from his head and forced his legs to keep walking. No, not again. He wouldn't do that to the people of his town. He wasn't a monster. Or he didn't wish to be that monster again. The thing that people saw and made them want to drink in turn.
So he walked.
And walked.
And walked.
Cecil didn't know how far he had gone, or exactly where. He didn't have his phone on him, yet the sky was dimming and his legs were starting to protest their constant work.
Yet, the loneliness lingered. That dread lingered. The desire twisted his thoughts into an endless debate for just one more drink.
Cecil's legs eventually carried him to a building on the outskirts of town. It was hardly connected to the rest of Night Vale, just one road leading to it and one road stretching out into the endless empty desert behind the building.
A bright neon green sign that read ‘Compulsion Correction Building' glowed on the roof. Under it, in a much smaller font and in a bit less bright of neon read ‘Anonymous To No One’
Cecil sighed. This wouldn't help him. It hadn't in the past, and it wouldn't help him now. He had said it did. He smiled at Carlos every time he came home from a meeting and nodded each time he was asked if he felt any better.
It still lingered, that thirst. That desire. Cecil just found better things to distract himself with.
“Cecil?” A high pitched voice questioned behind him before Cecil could decide to leave. Cecil jumped, his teeth standing on edge and the hair on his arm grinding together. He whipped around quickly to glare at the only man who could ever have that voice.
“Hello Kevin.” Cecil snapped and hugged himself trying to hide the dullness of his being. If Kevin saw him weak it could put the town at danger. Yet looking over his blood stained double he didn't quite feel as dangerous as he usually felt.
“What are you doing here, friend?” Kevin mused gesturing to the building with his head, hands stuffed into his pockets tightly.
“I could ask you the same thing. Why are you even in Night Vale? I thought we banished you to that desert other world?” Cecil huffed. He would definitely need a drink after dealing with this creep. Kevin stiffened for a moment, his smile straining.
“Oh just….” Kevin started before he stopped himself and closed his eyes. He took a breath, muttering something to himself that sounded vaguely like ‘don't lie Kevin’ and for some reason Cecil relaxed his shoulders a little. “I came for the meeting, Desert Bluffs too doesn't have a CC.” Kevin admitted, his voice losing that forced chipper tone. “Talk therapy is illegal still.”
Cecil staggered yet as his double pulled out a little wax token it was hard not to believe him. “Sober four years… but it's been hard this last week and…” Kevin covered his mouth quickly, the empty void that was his eyes softened as his mouth twitched away its smile.
“Are you coming in?” Kevin asked as he tried to fix his face from behind his hand. “It normally helps. Talking always soothes me.”
Cecil wanted to shake his head no. Kevin would only use what he said against him. It could put Night Vale at risk. But where would he go from here? Home? He would end up drinking again, and past the pain he didn't want that. Yet being here, forced to be venerable next to his enemy felt wrong.
The other Voice seemed to notice the hesitation and he shifted on his feet for a moment before uncovering his mouth and reaching out for Cecil. For the first time since he's known Kevin the man wasn't smiling, his lips were tugged down as far as his forever smile would allow them to go. It was more unsettling than his constant cheeryness.
“You don't have to talk. Just sit with us, at least for a little bit so you don't… um. Do something you may or may not regret. Maybe it won't help, but it'll keep you away.” Kevin invited and Cecil finally relented. He already did something he regretted but he didn't want to do it again. He couldn't.
With a simple nod the two walked into the building. Kevin quickly covered his mouth again and Cecil could see the straining on his counterpart to try and force himself to smile. It was a strange sight, Kevin always smiled, Cecil didn't think Kevin could do anything but smile. Why would someone so happy need CC? What compulsion lay within him other than his need to be happy?
The hallway was dark except for the spot lights which lined the halls. Standing in them too long made most people feel watched, picked apart and shamed for what they had become. For Cecil he merely felt static behind his eye, a normal feeling when dealing with Station Management, City Council, or Kevin.
He glanced to the side to see something in the shadows. Human shaped things that stalked beside them kept hidden behind flower pots and water jugs. They whispered the two Voices names pointing and muttering. By tomorrow every shadow would know they had been here.
They reached the door at the end of a hallway and Cecil stiffened seeing a Secret Police person standing at the door. He looked up at Kevin, who was finally smiling again, worried briefly that something very bad would happen. Yet his double seemed relaxed.
“James?” Kevin mused and the Secret Police person jumped slightly at their name being called.
“Oh, hi Kevin. Haven't seen you here in a while. I'll write you down on today's log. How's the kid?” Kevin's smile seemed to soften and Cecil looked on, mildly worried at the idea that Kevin had a child.
“He’s wonderful. They did live dissection in class the other day and Donovan got the highest marks! His teachers called us in, fearful and perturbed with how he got the flailing beast down and all of its organs out while it was still alive.” Kevin chuckled, pride making his smile brighter. “And how's the wife?”
“My main detail got changed so I no longer have one for my cover. But we still see each other in the break room sometimes and it's a bit awkward.” James sighed and shook their head. “Best get in there before the meeting starts, unless you want to be fileted. Will you be attending to Cecil?” Cecil shrank back at his name being called and forced himself to nod in agreement.
“Though that does sound lovely, and I would love to see them try.” Kevin purred and Cecil had a sinking feeling that his double would like that outcome a little too much. “I would like to keep my skin today. I'll see you next time. Give my love to your ex wife.” Kevin nodded to James before gently ushering Cecil in, an amused grin set on his lips.
“You two seem friendly?” Cecil muttered, glancing back at the secret police person as they closed and locked the door behind them.
“What? Oh not really.” Kevin waved it off, not giving any more insight, before walking off to find a chair. Cecil merely shrugged, and looked into the darkened room of Compulsion Correction. Silhouettes sat distantly from each other, people shifting uncomfortably in their seats waiting to be corrected.
Cecil found a chair unclaimed and put on his shame hat, a leathery thing made of feathers and tar. It stung his nose but Cecil had smelt much worse from far more disgusting things. He merely hoped his hair wouldn't stick to the brim of the still leaking hot tar for it would take days to wash it out.
After a minute the lights brightened and a spotlight shone on everyone in the room. Cecil recognized several of his fellow towns folk, the ones he didn't Kevin seemed to gleam at, and the few with covered faces where government agents that Cecil knew he shouldn't look at long.
“Oh, Kevin. Nice of you to join us again.” A Night Vale resident smiled. “Would you like to start us out?” Kevin nodded and the lights flickered out before only his spot light was on. Kevin took a moment shifting in his seat and Cecil raised an eyebrow.
He had never seen Kevin like this before. The double looked down right uncomfortable, his vacant eyes staring blankly at the shadows, rubbing his arm to try and get his tattoos to stop undulating on his skin.
“My name is Kevin, and I am an addict. I use Memory Eraser to feel high and it's been four years since my last lapse.” Kevin paused, his smile straining. Cecil could feel the room heat up and through the darkness noticed one person pull out a fire extinguisher from under their seat. The tar hat sitting on Cecil's head didn't feel as comfortable anymore with its flammable feathers.
Kevin stopped rubbing his arm and sighed. “I have struggles with my past. With the things I do for my God, that I love very much, with what a certain corporation…” An orange suddenly got thrown from the darkness, hitting Kevin on the side of his head.
“Be specific, Kevin. You heal when you confront your past, not when you hide behind niceties.” A voice, loud and commanding came over a loud speaker. “This is your final warning.” Kevin puffed his cheeks out and rubbed where the orange had hit.
“I struggle with what Strex Corp did to me.” Kevin noticeably flinched at the mention of his last job position, yet his smile only widened. “They tortured me, gutted me, ripped me a part and put me back together day after day after day…” The room got hotter and suddenly Cecil could hear radio static in the air, he could feel it on his skin and it ached his heart. Yet, notably, no one shifted away from Kevin, even as his smile turned sharp, his nails and teeth looking more deadly than ever.
“It hurts to remember and so when I finally was ripped away from them I chose to forget. I used a police sanctioned memory eraser and took away all that pain.” Kevin dug his nails into his arm and let out a content sigh seeing the glistening blood that seeped from his wound.
“But the memories came back. And so I tried again. Then again. And again. Soon I realized I wasn't erasing my memory to get rid of the pain but for that momentary high just after administration, and that second just before everything came back.” Kevin pulled his hand away from his arm, blood dripping from his long nails. He licked the crimson off and his smile seemed to ease.
“I would throw myself head first into situations in which would bring back my memories and then drug myself again just for the high of it. It was the first time I could feel like that after what Strex did to me, for now not even the strongest drugs can make me feel anything but emptiness. Pain was the only other feeling I had but I didn't want to feel pain anymore.” Kevin sighed and leaned back in his chair, Cecil realized the static in the room disappeared, yet the heat stayed making him sweat.
“But I put that behind me four years ago. Got clean because I found someone worth remembering. Charles means the world to me, he makes me happy in ways I never felt before, and I have felt joy for years thanks to my god.” Kevin looked at his wound and for a moment Cecil noticed the frown that flicked on Kevin's face before he forced himself to smile again.
“He left two weeks ago for a seminar in the mountains of some country miles away. Took our son with him for ‘cultural exposure’. I haven't heard from them since he climbed on that airplane. I Know he's safe, they both are, but I'm alone in the house with nothing but pain. And I want nothing more than to forget that pain.” Kevin shook his head, blood weeping from his eyes like tears.
“I wanted to feel that high again and forget that Charles ever existed so I wouldn't feel so lonely in my own home. I wanted to forget my boyfriend. I wanted to forget my kid just for a high. How could I do that? How could I do that to them? So I came here, I could've gone to the police, taken what I wanted but I don't think I could smile as easily around Charles if I let myself forget about him for even a moment.”
Cecil felt ill, and looked away from his double quickly as the fuzzy memories of last night ate at him. He stood up quickly and threw his shame hat off before leaving the room, tears burning in his eyes. He took the early leaving tase to the back of the neck and quickly found himself outside trying not to hyper ventilate.
Kevin was right. How could he do that to Carlos? How could he let himself fall into that numbness when his love for his scientist was all he had right now. How could he let himself forget for even a moment?
He should've stopped. Why didn't he stop drinking? Why did he want to run into a bottle still? It had just been one drink! For one night so why did he feel so guilty about it all? Why did everyone care so much?
This wasn't like last time. He wasn't going to do that again! It was just one drink! He was fine. He was…
“Cecil, take a deep breath. Relax.” Kevin's Voice came behind him, his chipper tone all but gone. A sting of radio static burned through Cecil's head and his body reacted immediately by tensing as if attacked. Then, involuntarily he relaxed. The smooth frequency used by a Voice to make people calm and compliant. Kevin was very good at it, he used it on his town a lot to keep them happy back when Strex owned everything and everyone.
“It's okay, just breathe. You're safe.” Cecil felt far from safe, he felt like a caged animal surrounded by prodding electrified fences. And it was all coming closer as his thoughts spiraled and the deep desire in his chest to make it all go away with just one more drink ate at every part of his brain.
His town could be under attack, everyone's lives threatened, Carlos threatened, and he still wouldn't feel this pain in his chest as he tried to pull in air to lungs that refused to work.
How could he do that to Carlos?! But it wasn't that bad. Was it? Of course it was!
“Cecil, breathe.” A shock of static burned behind Cecil's eyes and he closed them, a nearby radio turning on and flipping until it reached a prerecorded storytime. It was almost comforting to feel the radio signal in his brain. He took a breath, letting himself fall to the static bliss that the Voice offered.
“That's it slow and steady. Just breathe.” Carlos’ body felt fuzzy but he couldn't tell if it was from the static in his head or the taser reminisce coursing through his nerves. Still he breathed, just as the Voice told him. It was a comforting noise, it sounded safe and warm.
“Sit down, the floor would be nicer.” Cecil obeyed his heart in his ears but slowed to match his careful breathing. “Good job. That's so good, I'm so proud of you.” A warm feeling bubbled into Cecil's gut and he took a calm breath not dictated by the order of the Voice.
“Now, tell me your name.” The static buzzed a little louder in Cecil's eyes and he felt his body slump.
“Cecil Palmer.”
“Very good.” Cecil took another deep breath and finally felt his heart calm down. He pushed the static from his head and it did not resist as he thought it would. After another few moments he opened his eyes to see Kevin sitting in front of him covered in tomato paste, his neck badly burned from an electric shock. Kevin's smile was gentle, not the frightful world ending one Cecil expected.
“You…” Cecil took a breath and sighed. “Thought us Voices promised not to do that to each other.” He let out a forced laugh that sounded more like a dying animal than anything, noticing briefly how Kevin's tattoos burned deeper into his skin. Kevin shrugged.
“You didn't hear me when I was speaking normally.” Kevin explained in a way that sounded like an apology. Kevin tilted his head, waiting for something Cecil didn't want to provide.
“Do they ever hurt?” Cecil asked tracing the faded tentacle on his arm wanting some subject unrelated to his drinking.
“Only when I'm not smiling. Strange how they changed once I became part of the congregation. They used to look a lot like yours. When you first saw them were you as scared as I was?” Cecil let his shoulders slump.
“I was more scared of the eyes.” Cecil mused, noting the few that non-comporeally floated around here. A View only for a Voice. He wondered just how many Kevin Saw? Or if not having eyes made it difficult for him. Did he lose his eyes before or after he gained his Sight?
“Ah. Yes, that was unnerving.” Kevin chuckled, a sound that made Cecil tense for a minute with its predatorial nature. “Carlos found them fascinating, but said something about having a headache from looking into yours and not wanting to try that again.” Cecil flinched at the name and looked away with a sigh.
“Oh sorry. Did… did something happen?” Cecil bit his lip and pulled his sleeve down feeling far too open all of a sudden in front of a man that was supposed to be his enemy. “Do you want me to ask differently?" The static purred in Cecil's ear and he shook his head no, immediately it dissipated into a far off hum.
“He - he left for some science camp project.” Kevin nodded quietly and when it was obvious Cecil wasn't going to continue questioned,
“And that pushed you to drink?” Cecil closed his eyes to peer across Night Vale, his Sight fuzzy when not in his radio station. His sweet little hamlet that held more secrets than open truths. What was one more?
“No. His absence didn't… the thought of him not coming back did.” Kevin let out an ‘ah’ and gently wiped away a glob of tomato paste on his shirt. “I was two years sober… and it was just one drink.” His voice felt weak, tears stung in his eyes again and he wiped them away before opening his eyes. Kevin seemed uneasy with the tears, his smile straining not to grimace.
“And it's only a few memories. I could get them back so easily. What's one night of forgetting? One night to feel nice in my skin again? One night where my reflection doesn't cry crumpled in the bathtub screaming about my past?” Cecil looked to his double, a look in that eyeless face that made everything feel wrong. It wasn't just one night, it could never be, not for them.
“If you see something, say nothing, and drink to forget.” Cecil muttered and ran a hand through his hair.
“If you have a bad day, don't think about it, and smile always.” Kevin replied and Cecil laughed. Their towns were so messy. Government or Capitalists, boiled down to the core it was all just a control from someone above you that had more power. “Do you still feel like drinking?”
“Always. Even when I'm happy.”
“Do you want to come to my house? I don't have any alcohol. Liquor is hard to get across interdimensional planes of existence.” Kevin stood dusting himself slightly and licking the tomato off his fingers. “It would at least help you for tonight, it'll help me too.” Cecil looked up to his double and shrugged.
“Promise not to kill me?” At this Kevin laughed.
“Your safety is never certain!” Kevin smiled, bright and shining like the sun, his teeth sharp as a shark. Strangely it didn't sound like a threat, or at least not one Cecil didn't already face just by living in his town.
“Of course.” Cecil gave the best smile he could and stood up. “How do we even get there anyways?” Cecil dropped his voice, not wanting to be arrested. “The dog park?”
“Nope!” Kevin popped the ‘p’ and gestured behind the CC building. “I got my own special portal around back, just so I can get to the meetings in peace.”
“Carlos?” Kevin nodded quickly, his smile brightening.
“He’s so sweet. Got really happy when I told him about my sobriety. His smile is almost as beautiful as Charles’.” Kevin sighed the name of his partner as he walked off happily to the portal.
It didn't take long to reach Kevin's home. And it was just as Cecil expected it too. Unnaturally warm, covered in blood and viscera, Smiling God memorabilia covering the walls, knives pretty much everywhere. Yet not everything seemed to be to Kevin's taste. Theology books, statues of different gods, kids toys, a model airplane set, and a Pine Cliff sweater clean of blood littered the house.
“Sorry for the mess. I haven't gotten around to my cleaning.” Kevin mused. “It's difficult to stay productive when I'm so worried about them. So I just work.”
“It's better than my house.” Cecil said honestly, remembering the bottles that would still be there when he got back. “Thank you for this, Kevin. I…” He shook his head but Kevin seemed to understand without the words.
~~~
One night slipped into two, into a week then two. Cecil would wake up, head to work, attend the CC meeting in the evening then return to Desert Bluffs too with Kevin. After the third night Cecil finally found the courage to tell his sister, brother in law and his boyfriend what had happened and where he was staying to help ease him back into sober life.
They took it in strides, Abby upset she wasn't there, Carlos wanting to drop his research immediately. But Cecil told him to stay for the distance would help at least for the time, and told Abby it was far from her fault he lost his will.
The cravings lingered in the back of Cecil's mind yet he was feeling better. He couldn't tell if it was the constant smiling from Kevin, the easy routine day in and day out, or simply being in a place where drinking wasn't even a possibility, but it was helping.
Kevin was surprisingly nice through the recovery. Gentle nudges, the right words at the right time, the shared smile when they would both walk out of CC covered in something shameful. Never once pushing the normal grudge which stood between them.
Kevin had, at one point when Cecil was found in his home, even stood up to his town with a strong Voice and a clear message. ‘Mess with Cecil and I will kill you myself, I won't even need my knife.’
Kevin didn't fuss. Didn't push. He was just there. And it was, to Cecil's never ending shock and horror, exactly what was needed. Especially when talking about things only a Voice could understand.
Then one night, after a CC meeting covered in pigs blood, Cecil finally felt good enough to try and stay in his own home. Kevin gave him a positive smile -then again he had been positively beaming since being covered in mildly boiling blood, it still felt nice-, his number in case it got too overwhelming, and an open door. But Cecil felt that none of that would be needed, just a safety net in case he started to fall.
Cecil took a deep breath and opened his house door for the first time in two weeks, half expecting to still see his mess from the laps of his will. To his great relief the bottles were gone, and a quick check around the house found no signs of alcohol anywhere in or around the building. Only a little note made from a collage of the refrigerator magnets that were ripped apart to spell out:
‘Cleaned up, stay sober, or I'll put moths in your clothes again.’
Cecil could feel his muscles relax. He would do better this time. Walking to the windows, he opened the curtains to peer out over his town. The dazzling colors against a long desert night made him truly feel a little more whole.
Carlos would come back, eventually. And eventually that craving wouldn't be so bad for he had someone to feel something for.