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One year. After spending a whole year in Night vale, Carlos could definitely see why an Outsider surviving for so long called for a celebration. It really was too bad he had missed the party, instead spending his anniversary underground and getting attacked (and nearly killed) by a city of tiny people.
At the forefront of his mind during the attack were his regrets, so his first act upon discovering that he had not, in fact, died [despite Cecil's words on the radio he had heard drifting down from the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex. It would have been not too an unpleasant end, in a way, if the last thing he heard was Cecil's voice.] was to rectify at least one of those. So he called Cecil and was able to spend part of the evening with him, with plans for an actual date in the future. Plans that were, unfortunately, canceled.
Carlos got the letter the day after the events in the underground city. There had never been mail for him from the outside before, but when he read the contents and discovered his sister had fallen and been injured there was no doubt he'd have to leave. Just to check on her and do what he could to help, as she was his last remaining family. He wouldn't stay for long, of course. It wouldn't do to lose all his progress he'd made while here, nor did he want to lose the potential relationship he had with Cecil.
Cecil took his news better than he thought, with only minimal tears and pleads to come back as soon as he could. Otherwise, he was understanding about the need to make sure his sister was okay, for which Carlos was grateful and only served to make him a little more smitten. Well, he'd be back in Night Vale before too long, especially since time in Night Vale moved slower than other places.
Of course, he made sure to leave without any more regrets in regards to Cecil, and they shared their first kiss outside of the radio station when Carlos stopped by to say goodbye. It was short and sweet, and a little sticky when Cecil started to ooze in embarrassment and plastered to himself to Carlos. They had to call for a few interns to come pull them apart, but it was only a minimal delay that he did not mind at all, because he got to spend it, quite literally, connecting with Cecil.
Partings must come eventually, even if they may take some help from a few radio station interns, and soon Carlos found his truck driving away from Night Vale and back towards the rest of civilization. Perhaps, though, he should have looked harder at the letter. If he had, he wouldn't have arrived at his sister's only to find that she was perfectly healthy and surprised at his visit. For now that he looked at it, seated in the guest room, he noticed that the paper it was 'written' on was the same he saw stocked in the Target. Different because it was made in Night Vale by the Sheriff's Secret Police to prevent any writing utensils from writing on it. The words on the page weren't written on but inherently a part of the paper itself, and he threw it down on the floor.
Someone had wanted him to get out of Night Vale, though he couldn't think of anyone who would have known about his sister that would do such a thing. Well, they got him out of town but they couldn't keep him away. Too much was at stake to him, both scientifically and personally, to be kept from Night Vale. So he would rest and leave in the morning immediately to get back as soon as possible.
The town was gone. He knew he was exactly where he had left from less than two days prior, because he could still see the tire tracks he had made when leaving the town. They were the only marks, and they appeared suddenly out of nowhere, cutting off at the edge of where the town limits used to be. He had almost missed them in the darkness, the road without any of the streetlamps that had always been there before.
Now he knew, at least, who wanted him out of town. It was Night Vale itself that wanted him gone, and boy if that didn't sting. He knew some people were never able to find the town because it didn't want to be found, but from how Cecil always went on it had seemed like the town wanted him there--
Shit. Cecil.
“No. No no no. You can't do this!” Carlos found himself yelling at the sky, strangely lacking the lights he had gotten used to seeing above the Arby's. “I have a date with him! I have to make it back in time for our date...”
It was a while before Carlos got himself off the ground and back into his truck, face streaked with sand and tears. The street stayed silent for a little while longer before the truck roared to life and turned back the way it came, taillights soon only distant dots to the lot where Night Vale used to be.
Years passed, Carlos turned forty-two and stopped preparing for temporal rifts to open in his closet. He had even started going to the library regularly the previous year. Night Vale entered his thoughts less and less, though when it did it was with a heartsick pang as he wondered what Cecil had done when Carlos never returned. So when his watch stopped working one day on a trip to the supermarket, he thought nothing of it beyond a mental note to fix it when he got home.
After all of the groceries were put away and he'd fixed himself a snack, he took off his watch and got out a screwdriver. After unscrewing the back panel to his watch, he sat there staring for a long minute once he had managed to pop the back off. After the shock wore off he quickly put on his best labcoat and grabbed his keys before racing out of the apartment.
Forgotten on a table next to a half-eaten sandwich and a calendar, gelatinous grey ooze dripped from the back of the watch. The calendar read June 15, and remained unchanged until found days later by a concerned neighbor.