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Carlos had first noticed something off about Cecil a few weeks after their twenty-ninth or thirtieth date (he’d lost track at that point, but if he really wanted to find out the exact number, he could just ask Cecil. Cecil always knew the number of dates they’d had). That is to say, he noticed something off about Cecil that was different from what was usually off about the man, like how his eye color changed subtly sometimes or how his forehead twitched in an unnatural fashion or his skin occasionally seemed to shimmer when Carlos was looking at the radio host from the corner of his eye. That was normal.
The first thing he’d noticed was Cecil’s increased appetite, but he hadn’t really thought much of it. Nor did he think about it when Cecil developed a bit of pudginess around his middle, because in Carlos’s mind, an increase in appetite logically led to a little weight gain. He wasn’t necessarily worried about it though. He should have known better. Logic didn’t really apply in Night Vale after all.
It was only when Cecil’s abdomen started swelling more quickly that Carlos started to worry. The fact that his back seemed to ache and he started to do everything very gingerly didn’t ease the scientist’s mind. Maybe Cecil had contracted some sort of disease that only existed in Night Vale or had some sort of monstrous parasite (Carlos had long since stopped expecting normal human ailments to be the cause of anything), but the man didn’t seem to be suffering. If anything, he seemed healthier than usual; his skin glowed (in the pleasant human way for once) and his hair seemed thicker and shinier.
Carlos wanted to ask, but couldn’t think of a way to without it seeming like he was calling Cecil fat. Carlos had never really been good with words (which made things awkward on dates. He was just fortunate Cecil didn’t seem to mind) so he just bit his lip and tried to puzzle it out himself. He hadn’t yet and Cecil was getting bigger by the day.
It wasn’t until a little later that he was finally informed about what was happening to his boyfriend.
The scientist was waiting around in the radio station for Cecil to finish his broadcast so they could go on their next date. Carlos was actually hoping the other man would be up for a quiet night in; because the thought of Cecil doing any sort of activity while in his rather bizarre condition made Carlos uncomfortable and he was rather hoping he could have Cecil just sit down while Carlos made dinner for them.
Nodding once at an older woman walking by that he recognized as someone who worked at the station, Carlos glanced at Cecil again through the booth window, who was talking cheerfully into his mic and cradling his stomach, Carlos felt words bubble up and out.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” He blurted to the woman, who stopped and looked at him with mild surprise. She was in her early forties and wore a tasteful, summer-y pink and orange hijab that complimented her outfit and caramel skin nicely.
“Of course, as long as it is a legal topic to discuss.” She turned to him fully before walking back and following Carlos’s eyes to where Cecil sat. Carlos bit his lip.
“I hope it is. Not sure. But I’m worried so I have to ask. It’s just his… Is he.. Do you know what this is about?” When he said this, he made a rounded motion with his hand over his own stomach while nodding at Cecil. The woman pursed her lips but her features softened when she saw that Carlos really had no idea what was going on. She shook her head with a sigh.
“The poor boy is on his cycle.” She said, like it explained everything as she looked at Cecil with sympathy. Carlos’s brain tried to apply the word ‘cycle’ to the man. All he could think of was menstrual cycles which he was fairly sure didn’t apply to Cecil as he’d seen the man naked before and was pretty sure the radio host was male (They’d had sex twice and played around a handful of times).
“And.. what exactly does that mean?” He asked hesitantly. The woman let out an exasperated sigh like she had been expecting it, probably thinking something along the lines of ‘does this guy know nothing?’
“Every six years, about fifty seven people in town, Cecil included, go through a cycle where they get big like a pregnant woman and lay eggs.” A look a bewildered horror and confusion spread across Carlos’s face, ‘pregnant’ and ‘lay eggs’ ringing in his head as the woman continued. “My brother’s best friend is one of them and he helps them through it. From what I’ve heard it’s not a very comfortable process.”
Carlos just stared at Cecil like he might explode for a moment, his left eye twitching once or twice before finally saying something. “…Do the eggs hatch?”
“Thank goodness no. Well, not usually. One time Jake Hanson laid a brood that hatched into a litter of amphibious mongoose, but we think that was because he inhaled the mysterious purple smoke that develops sometimes in the library during his cycle.” She stated matter-o-factly. Carlos just blinked.
“Right… I’ll.. talk with him about it. Thanks for your help.” He replied numbly. The woman shrugged and walked off.
Suddenly Carlos found himself very nervous about the broadcast ending.
However, it did eventually end, Cecil ending the show with his usual goodnight, the ‘on air’ sign flickering off. Carlos watched as Cecil pulled off his headphones and carefully got up from his chair like he was afraid the floor might drop out from under him if he went too fast. Or that something would break.
Carlos’s eyes went wide with realization. Cecil was moving like he did because he was trying to keep the eggs inside him from breaking. Birds often had to be careful when carrying eggs because the shells could literally crack inside them if they were too reckless. Apparently, this was no different for Cecil.
“Carlos! Gosh, have you been waiting for me? I hope you didn’t have to wait too long. I realize I went a little long with the broadcast this time.” Carlos blinked, obviously not having noticed Cecil leave his booth and walk out greet him. The scientist smiled tightly at the other man, his eyes flicking down to Cecil’s swollen stomach.
“It was fine Cecil… Listen, can we talk?” Carlos asked, but not before pecking Cecil on the cheek. Cecil blinked at him, not sure what to think, but there was obviously a hint of worry in his eyes.
“Yeah, of course. Is something wrong?” He asked as they walked out of the station together, Carlos finding his hand drifting to Cecil’s back for support. His mind still trying to process a lot of what he had heard, but some of him felt strongly protective of his boyfriend now. Cecil was physically vulnerable and Carlos felt the natural pull to support and care for the man.
“No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just… I know about your thing.. Your cycle.” He paused when he saw Cecil’s face flush purple (another one of those off, and in this case, rather endearing, things) and sighed, gently rubbing Cecil’s back. “I mean, it’s a little weird for me, as an outsider, but… were you ever going to tell me? I was getting worried.”
Cecil’s face turned a deeper hue of purple as he looked down at the sidewalk (Carlos had missed when they got outside. That seemed to happen a lot) before running a very careful hand over his stomach. “Honestly, no. This is something I’d hoped you’d not have to find out about. It’s just so embarrassing. I get so big and ungainly and I guess I just hoped you’d think it was a “Night Vale thing” like you always put it. I’ll be back to normal by the end of the week though, so you won’t have to put up with my growing middle for much longer.”
That made Carlos stop. Cecil hadn’t told him because he’d thought Carlos would be repelled by the way he looked. The scientist carefully stepped around in front of the other man and dipped into a gentle kiss, which only made Cecil blush harder. “I asked because I was worried about you, not because I found the way you looked repulsive..” He murmured, kissing Cecil’s forehead before returning to his side and walking again like nothing had happened. Cecil smiled.
“Thank you.” They walked for a while, realizing they didn’t even know where they were going. After looking around, they realized they were closer to Carlos’s apartment somehow, and opted to go there, to get Cecil off his feet if anything. Cecil seemed rather pleased.
--
“It’s actually rather frustrating, you know.” Cecil said around a mouthful of pasta before swallowing and shoveling in another bite. Carlos glanced up from his own plate of gluten-free neon yellow noodles (the only kind he could find at the Ralph’s), a questioning look on his face, knowing well enough that Cecil would continue whether he said anything or not. “Every six years I have to go through this. Eat more, spend all my energy, get fat, hormones, the backaches and swollen ankles. All for what? Nothing. At least pregnant people get a child out of it.”
Carlos leaned forward and wiped a bit of pasta sauce from Cecil’s mouth with a napkin without even thinking about it, which made the radio host blush again. “I’m sure that must be hard.. I can’t imagine what going through that must be like. I got the impression that it’s not the most comfortable experience though.”
Cecil snorted. “It’s not. Last day or two, I can’t even walk properly and have to take off work.” Carlos could hear the disappointment in Cecil’s voice. The man loved what he did and not doing a broadcast, much less missing more than one, obviously upset him. “That’s not as bad as the laying though. That’s particularly painful and it never gets easier, even though I’ve done it a bunch of times already. It’s ten times worse than having the spinal tapping variety of Dread Beetle inside you. So.. if you don’t hear from me around the end of this week, that’s why.”
Carlos bit his lip, fussing with his pasta as he turned over what he was about to say in his head. And then he said it. “I could help if you’d like. I’ll understand if you say no. I’m sure this is a rather private thing, but.. I’m your boyfriend and you’re supposed to help your partner if their hurting when you’re in a relationship.”
Cecil stared at Carlos for a long time and the raven haired man felt his ears burning, silently cursing himself, just knowing he’d crossed some big, taboo line- until Cecil kissed him. The radio host had somehow rounded the table quickly and kissed Carlos with a fierce warmth and when they parted, Cecil’s eyes were a little wet. “No one’s ever asked to help with my cycle before.” He whispered before kissing Carlos again.
--
The next week found Carlos staying at Cecil’s apartment (once they’d gotten the necessary legal forms filled out of course) while Night Vale’s radio host only got bigger as his cycle progressed. Mainly because, from the time he’d first found out about his boyfriend’s condition, Carlos was becoming more and more protective with each passing day. He’d told Cecil about this growing, constant urge to keep him safe and Cecil had just grinned and kissed Carlos warmly, apparently content with his partner’s newfound instincts.
Cecil still went to work every day while he still could. Carlos would often go to the lab to try to get work done, but often found himself distracted, the radio on constantly as he listened to each broadcast carefully for any sign that Cecil might be distressed. One time he was so concentrated on the program that he failed to notice that the candy bar he was testing had developed six eyes and teeth right up until the feisty piece of chocolate bit down on his finger.
However, by the time he returned to Cecil’s apartment one night, a different sort of scientific inquiry had entered his head. This one having to do with Cecil’s condition.
The radio host was lounging on the couch as he arrived; dressed down in a loose and stretchy casual tunic and some green and purple sweats (Carlos had decided right off the bat that Cecil’s fashion sense was no weirder than Night Vale itself and had never commented. Besides, as long as what Cecil wore made Cecil happy, Carlos couldn’t care less). One hand was draped over his swollen stomach, the other holding up the magazine he was reading. The article in question seemed to be an armatures’ guide on quickly and easily removing Moaning Blood Worms from the infrastructure of one’s home while doing minimal damage to the walls, floors and the fabric of space-time. It was an oddly domestic sight and only strengthened Carlos’s resolve to ask the questions he wanted to.
The dark skinned scientist walked over to kiss the crown of Cecil’s head before seating himself on the end of the sofa, pulling Cecil’s feet into his lap and gently rubbing the man’s swollen ankles. Cecil put down his magazine with a smile before simply leaning his head back and purring in delight. “You have no idea how good that feels…”
“Actually, it’s pretty easy to tell. You look blissed out whenever I do this.” Carlos replied with a chuckle as Cecil just hummed contently. Carlos bit his lip for a moment before corralling himself into asking his question. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask. It’s for scientific purposes,” mostly, “regarding your current condition.”
“Oh? All right. I guess this could be scientifically interesting to some, even if it is just an annoying embarrassment to me. What is it you want to know?” Cecil was carefully rubbing his stretched stomach as he waited to hear what his boyfriend wanted to ask.
“Well, this particular condition isn’t actually all that uncommon in birds. I’m not calling you a bird, mind, I’m just making a parallel. But it’s not uncommon in some birds, like chickens. If a hen isn’t bred with a cock,” Cecil snickered here, “then they lay eggs that don’t have anything in them and that’s the kind of eggs people eat. Now, as long as this is a normal cycle for you, you’ll lay empty eggs as well, like a chicken.”
“Uh huh.” Cecil nodded, both as a confirmation that that was the case and that he was listening. At least, Carlos hoped so.
“Well, I guess what I’m asking is… if you were to have penetrative sexual intercourse at the very beginning of your cycle, would that fertilize the eggs?” Carlos’s face flushed a little when he finally got the question out and soon a purple variation of the scientist’s coloring spread across Cecil’s face.
“Carlos, are you asking if it’s possible to get me pregnant?”
“…Yes.”
“I don’t know. No one’s ever tried from what I can tell.”
“Oh..”
“I wouldn’t be against trying during my next cycle though.”
“…..Oh…. Okay…”
Both men were blushing furiously and could no longer meet each other’s eyes out of embarrassment. Cecil was smiling behind his magazine though and Carlos’s ears were bright red as he rubbed Cecil’s ankles with a little more tenderness than before.
--
“No.”
“But-”
“I said no, Cecil. You’re too big. You can barely walk and we don’t actually know when the eggs will be coming. You’re staying right here.” Carlos crossed his arms and gave his boyfriend a firm look. Cecil mirrored the gesture, but looked significantly more pissed off. His giant stomach wasn’t helping his point any.
“I should have never told you about that one time I started having contractions during a broadcast..” The host spat with a huff, not meeting Carlos’s eyes. The dark haired man sighed before walking over and gently gripping Cecil’s shoulders.
“I’m glad you did though. I know you love your work, trust me, I do know. I can hear it in your voice every time you broadcast. But you need to take care of yourself first. You’ve even gotten proper leave and recovery time from Station Management and that’s a feat in and of itself. And I,” Carlos paused, kissing Cecil’s forehead as he gently cupped and rubbed the other man’s large stomach (which was rather fascinating once he’d gotten a look at the skin, seeing as Cecil’s entire abdomen had turned a pale shade of purple and the skin now shimmered noticeably), “intend to make sure you take and use that time to rest, like a good boyfriend who’s partner is in a delicate condition would do.”
Cecil seemed to melt in his arms, nuzzling Carlos’s neck with a soft whine in apparent resignation. “Mnn.. It’s just hard…”
“I know, love, I know.” Carlos stroked Cecil’s back, feeling the man shiver against his hands.
“You’ve never called me that before.”
“I’m thinking about making a habit of it.”
“…Please do.”
--
“C-Carlos?”
It wasn’t just Cecil calling his name in the middle of the night, but the pain that it held that caused Carlos to jump off the couch as fast as he did and run to where Cecil was standing heavily against the doorframe. Cecil and Carlos had actually been sharing a bed (mainly to sooth Carlos’s newly found protective disposition) for the week, but that night Cecil had been so restless and uncomfortable that Carlos had slipped away to the couch to let his boyfriend have some space to rest. Now he was regretting that decision.
Even in the darkened room, Carlos could tell Cecil was unnaturally pale and not the Night Vale variety of unnatural either. The dark skinned man carefully propped the radio host up, murmuring soft words as he lead Cecil back to his bed. Cecil had confessed a few days before that he didn’t go to the hospital and preferred to lay his eggs in the comfort of his home and after a few arguments, Carlos had finally conceded to let him do just that.
Cecil slipped under his covers when they made it to his bed, fussing with them until the fabrics formed a sort of cocoon around him. ‘A nest’ Carlos thought as he gently ran his hand over Cecil’s sweat damp hair. The other man pushed into the touch like a cat, a soft, pained moan leaving his lips.
“Do you need anything? Some ice or maybe a few more blankets?” Carlos asked as he continued to caress Cecil’s hair.
“…Blankets now. Maybe some ice later. The blankets are in that closet over there.” The scientist nodded, the pain in Cecil’s voice making him feel rather helpless. Still, he got up and walked over to the closet, but not before turning on the light. Cecil hissed at him, huddled under the covers. Carlos grimaced apologetically, softly promising that he would turn them off again once he got the blankets. Cecil let out a soft whine and covered his face with a sheet until his boyfriend did as he said he would.
Cecil’s nest built to his approval and the wicked, wicked lights turned off once more, Carlos settled next to his laboring partner, stroking Cecil’s sweaty skin and hair. He was worried and rather shaken by the man in this state, but he knew there was little that he could do other than try to be comforting.
Sometime later in the night, Cecil started getting very restless, shuffling around in his heap of blankets. Before Carlos could even process it, having dozed, Cecil had pulled and thrown off his shirt, his pants and underwear following.
“Cecil?” Carlos hesitantly touched the other man’s shoulder and Cecil whipped around to look at him, his eyes wide, feral, and owlish. He blinked twice before recognition set in and suddenly Carlos found his arms full of boyfriend, Cecil’s face tucked into his neck. Cecil was on his knees as he braced himself against Carlos’s chest and before the scientist could ask what was going on, Cecil screamed.
The next thing Carlos knew, he was being squeezed to death as Cecil’s entire body tensed, the man continuing to yell and moan into the flesh of Carlos’s shoulder. Just when Carlos thought his ribs might start cracking, there was a wet plop and Cecil’s hold loosened, the man panting.
“…Sorry..” The radio host mumbled, trembling in Carlos’s arms. Carlos rubbed his back soothingly.
“It’s fine, everything’s fine.. did you just…”
“Yeah…” Carlos finally carefully peered over Cecil’s shoulder until he could make out a pale round object nestled in the tangled blankets. It was about the size and shape of a softball, maybe a little bigger, and glistened with bodily fluids only noticeable from the dim lights shining through the window from the streets below.
“How many more do you have to go?” He asked quietly, both out of scientific interest and personal concern, inwardly scolding himself for not asking and preparing sooner. Cecil whined.
“Five, maybe six.. Largest number I’ve ever laid is eight. Six or seven is my average. I’m too big for me to hope that this is maybe five…” Cecil managed hoarsely, still shaking. Carlos choked at the number, but he held is tongue and told himself to be strong for his boyfriend, kissing him on the forehead.
“I’ll be here for every single one.”
--
When the next egg came about an hour later, Cecil bit him. Hard.
After that, the man insisted that he be on all fours and that Carlos catch the eggs, so that way, he wouldn’t be tempted to bite him again. Carlos almost passed out watching the third egg crown. There was a reason he’d never gone into medical science.
The fourth egg came after much pushing on Cecil’s part, his back pressed against Carlos’s chest, the dark skinned man carefully but firmly holding Cecil up by his armpits. Carlos thought it worked well, but after that, Cecil swore off the position, saying it hurt too much.
They went back to their first position when Cecil started feeling the need to push again sometime around dawn (Carlos had long given up trying to figure out the actual time and had started just going by what time it should be according to the sun), this time with a towel folded three times and draped over Carlos’s shoulder. Carlos could still feel the pressure when Cecil bit down again, the sting from the previous bite noticeable enough to make Carlos grimace, though that wasn’t his only reason to. Each sound of pain that Cecil made clung and made him feel ill, but Carlos stayed strong.
--
Once there was clustered group of five sticky, light green eggs cushioned in Cecil’s blanket nest, the contractions seemed to ebb off, which only seemed to irritate the radio host.
“Ugh, I hate this part. It always stops for a few hours after the first four or five eggs. I hate waiting. I just want to get it over with.” Cecil groaned, thumping his pillow with a half-hearted and exhausted punch. Carlos rubbed a careful hand down his boyfriend’s spine, letting out a tried breath. Cecil seemed to pick up on that little bit of fatigue in Carlos’s voice though, turning clumsily on the bed, eyes wide in the soft glow of a rising sun. “Gosh, I haven’t even asked how you’re doing. You look tired…”
“Cecil, I’m not the one who’s been laying eggs. I should be asking you how you’re feeling.” Carlos gently rubbed Cecil’s shoulders and arms, trying to see if his pallor had gotten any better now that he could see in the morning light. It hadn’t, Carlos hadn’t really expected it to, but he could hope.
“I feel like crap, but that’s normal for this.” The other man replied weakly before snuggling close to Carlos, the scientist taking this as a cue to do the same. Once they were comfortably curled together, Cecil started talking again. “You’ve never gone through this experience before though. Helping someone through something like this. I want to know how you’re doing. I’d hate to think that this might really be upsetting you and you’re not telling me for my sake. I mean, in the end, it probably doesn’t matter, because we probably all don’t exist anyway, our lives possibly being only a dream of some great and dark netherworld god, but it’s important to me right now.”
Ignoring the little existential bit, Carlos sighed and kissed Cecil’s neck, which was tacky and cool with sweat. “It’s a little distressing to see you in so much pain, but I know I can’t really do much about it. I think the rest of it hasn’t really caught up with me yet…”
“Mhh,” Was Cecil’s only reply for a long time, the two of them lying quietly in each other’s arms. Carlos was about to close his eyes as his boyfriend’s voice touched his ears. “If it’s any consolation, the excruciating pain is a little easier to bear with you here.”
Carlos smiled a little, his eyes still hooded before lifting his hand and letting it hover over Cecil’s significantly smaller stomach. “May I?”
“..Sure..” Cecil seemed a little confused as Carlos gently pressed his hands against his mostly deflated belly, wincing a little when he got a little firmer.
“Well, I’m not skilled in medicine, but it feels like you may have two more eggs to go.” He told the other man. Cecil just nodded blearily.
“Mmhm…. Go to sleep.”
“As long as you do too. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“M’kay.” There was a long pause before Cecil’s lips moved once more before sleep claimed him. “..I love you.”
“I know.”
--
“Okay love, big push.” Carlos cooed as he rubbed Cecil’s shoulders, back in the position that seemed to work best for them.
“WHAT THE EVER LIVING FUCK DO YOU THINK I’M DOING!?” Cecil yelled at him in such a ferocious and feral way that Carlos almost whimpered. Then Cecil was biting the towel again like it was the very thing that was anchoring him to earth. Finally, after the longest period of active labor they’d gone through since the laying started, Cecil let out a hoarse scream which was followed by a now familiar wet noise and the sixth egg rolling a bit to join the other five. The radio host just squeaked a little. “Sorry for yelling. That wasn’t very nice of me.”
“Cecil, it’s fine. You can shout the walls down for all I care. Just do what you need to.” Carlos replied, firmly deciding that once he knew he could leave Cecil alone safely and comfortably, he would be going home and screaming into his pillow for a good hour and a half. Maybe this time it wouldn’t scream back. “Anyway, just one more and then you’re done. I’m right here.”
Cecil only let out a grunt of pain in response, pressing his forehead to Carlos’s sternum and groaning. His jaw clenched and he was gripping the scientist’s arms as opposed to holding his chest and it actually took Carlos a moment to realize he was laying the final egg as his body tensed.
It was so different from the other eggs. Cecil just let out a low moan, similar to the sounds he made when they had sex, but much different too. It vibrated into Carlos’s skin and he was entranced by the sensation, which filled him with a tranquil sense of calm and completion. It was almost pleasant, like a quiet, tender moment shared between lovers just before they fell asleep. Until, finally the surreal moment ended with a moist squelching, the final egg sliding out of the other man’s body. Cecil collapsed against him, suddenly loud and breathy, and Carlos held him close, letting him breathe.
“The last one is always really weird.”
“I… noticed… It was… I don’t even know.”
“Mhh.”
“We should probably get you cleaned up.”
“Ugh..”
“Come on, I’ll help you to the shower. After that, you can rest.” Carlos shepherded (hauled) Cecil from the bed to the bathroom, careful and cautious, knowing Cecil would feel better clean.
--
Once cleaned up, Cecil collapsed on the bed and was dead (metaphorically) to the world moments later. In the shower, he had explained to Carlos that he always left the eggs out on the front step in a sheet after he laid them and they were always gone when he woke up. Carlos didn’t want to part with them so quickly though.
Once he was sure he wouldn’t disturb his sleeping partner, Carlos wrapped up all seven eggs and carried them out to Cecil’s kitchen table, spreading them out so he could look at them.
Slowly and carefully, the scientist picked up one of the celadon hued eggs and turned it over in his hands. Surprisingly, it was still warm, as were the other six, and smooth to the touch, much like an average egg. He knew the shells were probably very thick if they could survive being squeezed out of Cecil’s body and his boyfriend’s ginger movement throughout his cycle was probably just instinct, but Carlos had to try. Going over to a lamp, egg in hand, he pulled off the shade and turned the light on. Once his eyes adjusted to the brightness, the scientist held the egg up to the bulb.
He could actually see inside it.
It was empty, just like he’d been told it would be, but something tugged at his chest anyway. In his mind, he could imagine a little being curled in the egg that he now held cupped in his hands. A tiny creature that would be a perfect mix of he and Cecil’s genes, primed to hatch and become a child that they could call their own.
Carlos found he suddenly needed to sit down.
--
After a few hours of sitting and staring at the eggs, the raven haired man finally forced himself to wrap them up and set them out on the step, feeling a pang of loss as he did. The man wandered back into Cecil’s room, Cecil himself still snoring softly. Letting out a soft breath, Carlos finally got on the bed and fitted himself against Cecil’s back. The other man shifted against him and made a soft, questioning noise, which made Carlos flinch.
“I didn’t mean to wake you, love.”
“ ‘t’s fine..” Cecil mumbled, wiggling a little to fit himself better against Carlos’s body. Carlos carefully wrapped his arm around him in a way like he thought Cecil might break, cautious and tender. The man bit his lip for a moment.
“Hey Cecil?”
“Hmm?”
“I should have said this earlier, but… I love you too.” Carlos whispered in Cecil’s ear. Cecil just smiled softly.
“I know.”
--
Six Years Later…
“Listeners, I can’t stand it any longer. I have the most exciting news and I just can’t hold it in anymore. Carlos, my beautiful, perfect husband, I hope you’re listening, because this announcement is mostly for you. As some of you might be aware, I experience a cycle every six years and while that would usually be an embarrassment to admit, this time it brings me nothing but joy. After a visit to the Night Vale General Hospital this morning, I discovered that I’m carrying six eggs, all of them occupied. That’s right listeners, I’m pregnant!”