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(Sorry went a little tag-happy there) Anyway, saw there was not enough WTNV here (although what is here is amazing!) and as a recent addition to the fandom, yet all caught up (much to the annoyance of the friends that got me into this fandom) I decided to remedy that! Here's some fun with Cecilos to remedy all those feels the recent episodes've been giving ya!


Carlos listened carefully to the radio. Okay, not very carefully; he had to make sure he filled these test tubes to exactly 15 milliliters for his latest experiment or it would be a botch. But he did pay attention to Cecil's voice. Something about it was... Off.

Carlos hadn't been dating Cecil on an official basis for long, but he had been listening to his radio show ever since he came to Night Vale (Cecil's adoration had been the subject of much giggling and teasing in the lab, much to Carlos's embarrassment) and he could tell that something was just off. Carlos had rarely ever heard Cecil lose control on-air--Carlos's "death" being one of the few times--so Carlos figured if something was wrong, Cecil wouldn't let on. Carlos frowned, pausing in his chemical-pouring to listen once more, trying to pinpoint the discrepancy.

"With the chemical spill in Big Rico's still being cleaned up, and the damage repaired, City Council announced, howling from the uppermost tower of City Hall while dramatic piano music played from within, that the law of eating at Big Rico's at least once a week has been temporarily lifted, as repairs are expected to take at least twelve days. Instead, we are advised to seek food at the Moonlight All-Night Diner. The reporters in attendance all moaned like petulant children and asked, 'The Moonlight All-Night Diner? Really? Why that place? Why not somewhere else? You know, somewhere with good food?'"

But no. Cecil was a professional. Carlos couldn't identify the problem, which, him being a man of science, annoyed him.

Carlos shook his head, muttering slightly as Cecil announced the weather. When he went back to his test tubes, they were all several millimeters off. By the time he had corrected the measurements with a pipette, Cecil was in the middle of his outro.

"--and no matter what happens, no matter what chemicals turn us in to, no matter how this world tries to bring us down... We will continue being, existing, and doing, until suddenly, we cease being, existing, and doing, and start not being, not existing, and... Stopping. Stay tuned next time for the sound of... Screaming, mute fruit bats attacking a miniature rhinoceros. Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight."

Carlos frowned, a passing scientist having to tip his arm with the flask of chemical back to stop the test tube from overflowing. Cecil's radio show was 40% news, 40% drama, and 25% lack of any sense. But those pauses hadn't been quite aesthetic. It wasn't like Cecil to slip up on his histrionics.

Carlos quickly stuck the test tubes in the centrifuge and flicked it on. He asked one of the other scientists who usually stayed almost as late as him to turn it off after an hour and put the test tubes in the fridge, then texted Cecil.

Want me to come pick you up? I have stuff to make pasta at home. xoxo

He attached a little emoticon of a dolphin in a tuxedo flying over a house as dogs and cats played baseball and people looked up in horror and ran screaming around the place. He had made it a little game to find the weirdest emoticons Night Vale had to offer (which had suddenly appeared in his phone when he came here) and send them to Cecil, who found them adorable. Even the mildly disturbing ones.

He didn't have to wait more than two seconds for a reply: Id love u to! C u soon! <3

Smiling slightly, Carlos left the lab and made his way to his car. Hopefully Cecil would stop hiding... Whatever it was, in person. Plus it was high time they had a proper date night. I mean, it had been a few days, and Cecil started to get a little mopey if they didn't go out frequently. Carlos was usually happy to oblige, but Cecil was understanding of his need to be alone sometimes. Most of the time, anyway.

Carlos pulled up outside the radio station and got out of the car. He never went further than the lobby; Station Management freaked him out a little, with their aura of despair and glowing red light you had to pass by to get to the recording studio. But when Cecil wasn't waiting for him in the lobby, even after waiting around for a few moments, Carlos started to get worried. He was considering braving Station Management when a voice asked, "Oh, are you Carlos?"

Carlos turned to see an intern poking out of a side room. "Uh, yes. I-is Cecil...?"

"Oh, he's in here." The intern gestured into the room. "Sorry, he's having a nap on the couch. Not the one infested by scorpions, don't worry."

"Nap?" Carlos muttered, more to himself than the intern. "That's not like him..."

"Well, he was a bit weird this morning..." The intern mused as Carlos made his way into the break room. "And he was falling asleep during the weather..."

Carlos glanced around. The break room had a coffee table with a coffee machine on it, a couple chairs, some laptops, probably belonging to interns, and two couches. On one couch a small, dark thing snuck under the cushion. Carlos didn't look too closely. On the other couch...

Cecil lay down on the couch, glasses askew, shirt rumpled, vest unbuttoned, pants pulled up slightly on one leg, and short blond hair mussed up. The tattoos running along his arms writhed sluggishly and sleepily. The eye tattoo on his forehead was closed, as it usually was when he slept. Cecil's mouth hung open, and he was snoring slightly, using his arm as a pillow.

Smirking slightly, Carlos made his way over to the couch, giving the apparently scorpion-infested one a wide-berth. He knelt down and gently shook his boyfriend's shoulder. "Cecil? I'm here." Cecil groaned and muttered something along the lines of "five more minutes" while slapping Carlos's hand away weakly. Carlos laughed slightly, and shook his shoulder again. "Cecil, come on. Wake up, sweetie."

Cecil's eyes flickered open, saw Carlos, narrowed slightly, then widened in horror. He shot up, frantically straightening his glasses and fixing his hair.

"Why, Carlos! My apologies, I was just waiting for you to come pick me up, and--"

"Fell asleep, it's fine, Cecil." Carlos assured him. Then he frowned. "Are you alright? It's not like you to just--"

"Oh, yes, I'm fine, Carlos, perfectly fine." Cecil said quickly, straightening his pant leg and re-buttoning his vest. "Just fine. Now, you were saying about dinner?"

Carlos nodded slowly, standing up. "Yeah, I, uh, was thinking we could eat at my place. If, uh, if you'd like." Cecil, too, stood up, smiling brightly.

"That sounds perfectly wonderful, dear Carlos. Shall we--" He broke off, coughing slightly. Carlos narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Cecil paused, waiting a moment, then turned back to Carlos, smile back in place. "Shall we head to your place then?"

"Sure. Let's do that." Carlos said, leading the way out of the radio tower. He thought he heard Cecil sniff slightly, but couldn't be sure. They both got in the car, but Carlos didn't start it. Cecil turned to him expectantly.

"Are we going to--"

"What's wrong, Cecil?" Carlos asked. Cecil paused, knowing he was caught, but still opened his mouth to protest.

"Why, whatever could you--"

"Cecil. I am a scientist. It is my job to observe. And I have observed that something is wrong." Carlos smiled to make sure Cecil knew he wasn't angry. "I, uh, just thought that since we're d-dating now, you would, uh, be open about if something is, uh--"

Cecil interrupted with a sneeze. Carlos trailed off, then muttered an automatic "Salud," staring, as Cecil sat there, with his hands over his face, mortified.

Cecil sniffed. "I am so sorry, Carlos." He said, blushing furiously and looking so ashamed that it shocked Carlos out of his silence.

"No, no, uh, it's okay, um..." Carlos leaned over Cecil to open the glove compartment, and pulled out a packet of tissues. He opened it and gave a few to Cecil, who accepted them gratefully.

"I am so sorry, Carlos." Cecil repeated once he cleaned himself up. He was looking down at his lap and almost curling in on himself. "I didn't mean to-- so rude of me..." He trailed off, muttering indistinct apologies with the occasional "so rude" or "stupid Cecil!" coming through.

"No, really, Cecil, it's fine..." Carlos said, analyzing Cecil more closely, as he would a new specimen in the lab. He noticed that Cecil look tired. His nose was a bit red. His tattoos were still moving sluggishly despite the fact that Cecil was awake now. The eye was just halfway open, and kept blinking, like it was nodding off. Carlos was not a medical expert, or an expert on tattoos that move, but he figured that probably wasn't quite healthy.

Cecil coughed again, a little rougher this time, and Carlos finally figured out what had been off; Cecil's voice had been rough. It was slight, and Cecil was such a professional that he covered it up to the point that it was almost imperceptible. But now that the radio waves weren't between him and Cecil...

"Aw, Cecil, you're sick, aren't you?" Carlos asked. Cecil grimaced, not looking up. "Cecil..." Carlos coaxed, putting a hand on his shoulder. Cecil bit his lip.

"I-I just wanted to do the show, and it wasn't this bad this morning, and then you invited me to dinner, and I ruined everything, I--" Cecil cut off, coughing more. Carlos felt his heart melt a little.

"Oh, sweetie, you didn't ruin anything." Carlos leaned over awkwardly to try and hug him, but Cecil still looked too mortified to look up, so Carlos settled for a hand on his shoulder.

"I am so sorry Carlos." He muttered again, his voice rough and tired. Carlos sighed. He really wasn't sure what to do. He was sure that "not good with organic life forms" was a prerequisite for being a scientist. Yay for him.

With another muttered "it's okay, Cecil," Carlos turned on the car and started driving. Cecil stayed looking down, sniffling and coughing, still embarrassed, the whole drive, until Carlos stopped the car. Then he looked up, confused.

"This isn't my house." He said slowly.

"Well, I did offer to cook dinner." Carlos said, glancing over. Cecil finally looked over at him. Carlos smiled, hoping that was good enough to reassure him. "Plus, it looks like my boyfriend is sick and needs taking care of." The hopeful look on Cecil's face made Carlos's heart melt even more. "Come on, let's get inside and I'll make dinner."

Wordlessly, Cecil got out of the car and followed Carlos into his house. "Make yourself comfortable in the living room, dinner won't take long." Carlos called over his shoulder. He started cooking, talking to himself as he did. He didn't notice Cecil standing in the doorway of the kitchen until the pasta was on the stove.

"Need something?" He asked quickly. "Something to drink, or--"

"Are you sure you still want me here?" Cecil asked cautiously. Carlos blinked.

"Well, yeah." Carlos said, confused. "I mean, uh, we are dating. But, um, if you don't want to be here, I-I can take you home--"

"No!" Cecil said quickly. He paused, coughing into his fist. "I mean, no, it's not that. I just don't understand why you want to be around me when I'm sick. I mean, it's dangerous."

Carlos sighed, leaning up against the fridge. "Is this more Night Vale stuff? You know I don't know this stuff yet, Cecil."

"You mean it isn't bad luck to be around a sick person where you're from?" Cecil asked, genuinely confused. Carlos shook his head. "Oh. Well it is here. I mean, some families vacate the house when one person is sick. I thought it was common knowledge. Maybe I should--" Before Cecil could continue, Carlos quickly walked up and kissed him.

Cecil jumped, then leaned into the kiss. They broke apart, smiling, Cecil relievedly, Carlos reassuringly. "I'm not from Night Vale, Cecil. So I am perfectly willing to take care of my boyfriend when he is sick. Plus, I am a scientist. I don't believe in luck. And I certainly don't believe my boyfriend could ever bring me bad luck."

"That's good." Cecil murmured. He coughed slightly. "Also, I think your pasta is burning."

"Crap!" Carlos whirled around to fix the pasta, while Cecil watched, still a little confused, but happy he didn't have to leave. Instead, he got to stay here while perfect Carlos took care of him. That did seem nicer than just sitting at home, feeling sorry for himself and waiting for the virus-eating leeches to show up. Cecil hated those things.

One slightly-overcooked pasta dinner later, they were cuddling on the couch. Carlos was rambling on about his latest experiment, while Cecil just enjoyed the sound of his perfect voice.

"--so then I thought, well, maybe it's excess nitrification, like a legume, but even more so, you know? So I spent all day preparing a nitrate-detecting solution, it should be ready tomorrow if Haile remembered to turn off the centrifuge at the right time, this could revolutionize the agricultural industry, you know--" Carlos broke off as he glanced down at a sleeping Cecil. He sighed, smiling. "Okay, Cecil. Time for bed."

"No, I was listening!" Cecil cried as he jerked awake. He coughed a bit, his voice like sandpaper. Carlos frowned.

"Cecil, I don't think you should go in to the radio station tomorrow, you sound awful." He said, concerned. Cecil immediately shook his head, staggering to his feet. He tottered a bit, and Carlos shot up, steadying him. "I'm serious, you don't look well at all."

"Carlos, I can't just not do the show, I'm--" He sneezed. "I'm the Voice of--" again. "Night Vale, and--" again. "I don't think sick days are in my contract." He concluded meekly. Carlos shook his head.

"Well they are now. Can't one of the interns do the show just this once?" He asked. Cecil shook his head.

"No, none of them are ready yet." He paused, frowning. "Well, maybe Intern Michael..."

"I thought he died last Friday, during the incident with the mice?" Carlos asked.

"Oh, right!" Cecil remembered. "He shall be missed. But Carlos, dear, sweet, naïve Carlos, I can't just--"

"Cecil, really, if you're sick you should rest. Otherwise you'll only get worse." Carlos pleaded. "That is a scientifically proven fact. Look, just please come to bed?"

"You mean... Your bed?" Cecil asked uncertainly. Carlos blushed.

"W-well, we're already here, a-and, uh, I-I just, er, thought..." Carlos trailed off to indistinct muttering, drawing back from Cecil and rubbing the back of his neck, glancing away. Cecil quickly silenced him with a kiss.

"I'd love to." He said certainly. Carlos, still blushing, grinned nervously.

"Uh, right. Good. Yeah." He said. Cecil waited expectantly. "Oh! Uh, this way." Carlos gestured down the hall.

By the time Carlos had finished getting ready for bed, Cecil was already passed out, fully clothed, on the bed, snoring slightly. Carlos shook his head, repositioned his near comatose boyfriend into a more reasonable position for sleeping, then climbed in himself.

"Goodnight, Cecil." He murmured, before flicking off the bedside lamp.


Don't worry, Carlos will get his soon enough! ;)

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!!!!! OMG I haven't read a Nightvale fic in so long. This is so beautiful!! I loveeedd this:

"Carlos, I can't just not do the show, I'm--" He sneezed. "I'm the Voice of--" again. "Night Vale, and--" again. "I don't think sick days are in my contract." He concluded meekly.

wubsmiley.gifwubsmiley.gifwubsmiley.gif Sooo sexy

Lovely fic, anxiously awaiting the continuation.

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Oh my God. This is perfect. You really captured the "Night Vale" feel in this - how everything is perfectly normal, but it's NOWHERE NEAR. Ohhhh noooo ask;fl;sdf. My Cecilos feels are through the roof! Thank you so much for sharing this with us. :wub: Poor Cecil feeling so guilty and humiliated, and Carlos being the loving sweetheart that he is. Buhhhh. :heart:

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I like to imagine that, early on in their relationship, Cecil is terrified of doing something to ruin it, and Carlos is just awkwardly stubling through it :D

Anyway, I have part too because feeeeeeels! Here you go!


Carlos woke up slowly, as he usually did in the mornings, but also per usual, at almost exactly eight o'clock; or whatever passed for eight o'clock in Night Vale. Time was funny here.

He smiled slightly, remembering last night, and rolled over to see... An empty bed.

Carlos frowned. He could have sworn he had Cecil over last night. Where had he...?

No, wait, the bed wasn't quite empty. A scrap of paper sat there, neatly placed upon the pillow. Carlos fumbled for his glasses, switched on the bedside lamp, and read the note;

"Dearest Carlos: Sorry I'm not there. I had a wonderful time, but I really must get to work. I'll see you later! <3, Cecil"

The note was written in Cecil's slightly messy, loopy handwriting. Carlos sighed. Leave it to Cecil to try and do his radio show when he was sick. He shook his head, muttering a bit as he got up and ready for work. There wasn't much he could do about it now.

Half an hour later, Carlos was on his way to the lab, the car radio on as usual, playing Cecil's intro; "Despite what your senses tell you--despite your every instinct and all that you know--a voice at the edge of being says that rain is coming. Welcome to Night Vale."

The usual musical bit played, while Carlos waited impatiently for Cecil to come back on. If there was any overt sign that Cecil was still unwell, Carlos would... Well, actually, he still probably couldn't do more than send a strongly-worded text that Cecil would gush about to the whole town. He could imagine it now: "Oh? Listeners, hold on just one moment, I'm receiving a text from--Oh, perfect, beautiful Carlos! Aw, Listeners, he's worried about me! Isn't that sweet? Have I mentioned we are totally dating now? Because we are."

Carlos had to laugh slightly at that mental image, but was deprived of the radio as he moved between his car and the lab. The radio was already going in the lab; after saying a few good mornings to his fellow scientists, he set up shop near the radio, testing the fast-growing wheatgrass (which had caused some slight controversy after the "Wheat and Wheat By-Products" fiasco) with the perfectly-prepared nitrate-detecting solution that Haile had not forgotten to finish.

"Reports of damages to the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex have been flooding our inbox, Listeners. Apparently, a major battle was fought last night between Teddy Williams's well-armed militia and the tiny city living in the ball-retrieval area under Lane 5. This occurred simultaneously to a boy-scouts team building event happening at that same lane, and--" Cecil cut off with a sneeze. Carlos sighed, shaking his head through the awkward silence. "My apologies, Listeners, I--" Another sneeze. "Ahem. I am a little under the weather. As I was saying, this coincidence was more unfortunate for the tiny city's army, due to this particular group of boy scouts' recent acquisition of impromptu warfare patches, however Teddy Williams has since announced that Lane 5 will be closed until further notice. More updates as the story progresses."

"Cecil's sick?" One of the scientists--Dave--asked as he passed by, holding a petri dish full of fuzzy, neon green bacteria colonies.

"Yes." Carlos replied, rolling his eyes as Cecil had to interrupt his broadcast to sneeze several times. "I tried to get him to stay home, but he's too dedicated to his work to listen."

"Gee, I wouldn't know anyone like that." Dave said, smirking pointedly. He then gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like "tree testing."

"That's different." Carlos protested. "I'm a scientist. Science doesn't take a break."

"Well, neither does the daily radio." Rachelle chimed in from across the room, over by the microscopes. "That's kind of why it's daily. Hey, I think these spores are trying to communicate in morse code!"

"Really? Let me see--" Dave dashed off, glowing bacteria shoved hastily in the incubator, as Carlos returned to his wheatgrass, wincing as Cecil went into a harsh fit of coughing, finally covering up the mic. He returned with a voice far scratchier and rougher than his usual smooth, borderline seductive radio tones. Carlos finished applying the solution, and texted Cecil: I'd say "I told you so" but you sound so sick I'd feel bad. I'm coming to pick you up during the weather. One of the interns can finish the show.

Another rough-sounding, sneeze filled report on the status of the Big Rico's repairs later, Cecil announced the weather, and texted back: noooo i cant i have to finish!

Already halfway to his car, excuses made to his fellow scientists, Carlos replied: Cecil your voice is barely intelligible anymore. I doubt you'd be able to finish the show if you tried.

Carlos started driving, and his phone buzzed again: dont u have science to do??? >.<

Carlos laughed almost regretfully, but didn't bother texting back, since the short drive (usually it was longer, but again; Night Vale) was almost over. Good thing the weather was so long today.

Carlos pulled up outside the radio station and walked swiftly inside, since the weather had to be almost over by now. He broke into a slight jog to get past Station Management, whose aura of despair now contained a slight hint of annoyance, possibly at their announcer's less-than-stellar performance today. The same intern from yesterday was waiting outside the broadcasting booth.

"Good thing you're here, Station Management's getting fidgety." The intern said.

"I noticed." Carlos grumbled. "Is he--"

"Still in there? Yeah." The intern completed, glancing at the closed booth door. "He locked the door. But I have a spare key."

"Thanks." Carlos said, accepting the key. "Also, looks like you'll have to do the closing today. I'm taking Cecil home."

"Good luck with that." The intern said dubiously, backing away to allow Carlos access to the door.

Inside the broadcasting booth sat Cecil, slumped in his rolling chair, a severely used handkerchief pressed against his unusually pale face. His hair was slightly disheveled and showed no signs of its usual careful styling. His clothes looked rumpled, but then they had been slept in. His purple tattoos moved sluggishly, as though half-asleep, and the eye was fluttering somewhere between closed and half-open.

Cecil himself whirled around in the rolling chair when Carlos walked in, his expression a comical mixture of exhausted, surprised, and indignant. "How did you--" Cecil broke off, sneezing in a tired, but powerful, manner. He took a moment to compose himself, and Carlos answered the half-completed question.

"Get in here? The very nice intern outside had a key." Carlos replied, giving Cecil a pointed look and crossing his arms. "You should try to keep that one around for a while longer than most of them seem to last."

"I haven't the slightest clue what you are implying, dearest Carlos." Cecil muttered, coughing into his handkerchief. Carlos was stunned to hear his voice; the usually soothing and sonorous tones reduced to a hoarse, scratchy, barely audible whisper.

"Aw, Cecil, you really shouldn't have come to work today." Carlos softened, more inclined to be sympathetic now that he saw how miserable Cecil was really feeling. He walked over, putting an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders. "Come on, let's go home. The intern can do the ending."

"No, I'm sorry, that is out of the ques--" Cecil's rasping was interrupted by a harsh coughing fit. Carlos winced sympathetically and rubbed his back.

"Seriously, Cecil, I can barely hear you and I'm right here." Carlos implored. "Come on, just this once. It'll be fine. You need to rest."

"Uh, if I may interrupt...?" The intern poked into the booth. "The weather's almost over. I should start getting ready."

"Thanks, Intern Leslie, but that will no--" Cecil tried to protest, but Carlos cut him off, pulling him to his feet.

"Yes, of course. Thank you." Carlos said, half-leading, half-carrying a protesting Cecil out of the broadcasting booth. "We'll leave you to it. You might have to do the whole show tomorrow. Thank you!"

"See ya...?" The intern muttered, bemused. Carlos carefully shut the door behind them and led Cecil out to the car. They got in and sat there a while, Cecil slumped over in the chair, miserable and exhausted, as Carlos looked on.

"I'm sure Leslie will do fine." Carlos said. "Er, they seem like they have it all put together nicely."

"Yes. I'm sure." Cecil muttered raspingly, not bothering to provide preferred pronouns for Intern Leslie. Possibly because he'd gotten them right the first time, Carlos hypothesized. "It's just that... This is my show. I am the Voice of Night Vale." He paused to sneeze a few times. "If I can't speak, what's my point?"

Carlos wasn't sure how to respond to an existential comment like that. He was a scientist, not a philosopher. He hesitated, looking at Cecil's downturned, miserable head, and then reached out and tipped it up and towards him. He leaned in and kissed him; gently, softly, but firmly. They stayed like that for a while before Carlos broke away.

"You can make me happy." Carlos said. "You aren't just the Voice of Night Vale, you are also Cecil Gershwin Palmer and my boyfriend. It's okay to have to take a break for a while."

Cecil slowly smiled. "That sounds nice." He murmured, then quickly turned away to cough.

"Alright, let's get you into bed." Carlos said firmly, starting the car.

"D-do you think we could go to your place again?" Cecil asked meekly. Carlos glanced over at him.

"Sure. I was planning on staying to take care of you anyway." He said, shrugging to try and make it seem nonchalant, but fighting a happy blush all the while. It was hard to tell if it was a fever or feelings, but Cecil was blushing as well. He may have been feeling sick and miserable, but he was so glad his perfect, beautiful Carlos was willing to take care of him. And as they drove, and the radio spoke the ending tones of the show, Cecil had to admit; Leslie didn't do so bad a job. Perhaps Cecil should negotiate for a raise.

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WOWOWOW! This is sooosososo goood! I haven't seen a lot of Night Vale fic, but these characterizations are spot on, and all the little details you added fit so true with the Night Vale air. I love how Cecil is so paranoid about disturbing Carlos - it's perfect and adorable! And the interns!!! ahaha so good! This really made my night! thumbsupsmileyanim.gif

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Ahhh~! I don't know much about the fandom, but I've always loved reading fics about it! This is very well written, and chok-full of adorable >w<~~ I really love how you portrayed Cecil and Carlos together~ Extremely well done! <3 And Cecil's dedication to his show is nothing short of precious >w<

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  • 3 weeks later...

So I made more, I know it's been a while, but I've been (*coughlazycough*) busy. Anyway, just fluffy fluff-fluffiness, hope you enjoy! (And yes, we'll get on to Carlos soon, I promise!)


Dinner that night was soup, since for whatever reason Carlos felt like perpetuating the stereotype, though he figured some added spices to the traditional chicken would only help Cecil's sinuses. At least, that was how he justified his craving for spicy food, and Cecil certainly didn't object.

Cecil had been fully prepared, if not entirely able, to change clothes and have a "proper dinner date," but Carlos insisted that Cecil grab only pajamas and other necessary things from his apartment, plus a spare change of clothes for later, and ensconce himself as comfortably as he could on the couch. They sat there now, the television playing some made-for-TV sci-fi movie Carlos had wanted to see (entirely scientifically inaccurate, of course; but that was what made it fun) and both of them enjoying bowls of hot soup. Cecil, having felt less exhausted but no less sick after the dinner, finally agreed to stay home the next day. Assuming Intern Leslie survived, they could do the show tomorrow.

"Leslie's showing promise." Cecil mused. His voice was still scratchy and congested, but slightly more intelligible now. He paused to sneeze a few times, then continued: "They've survived longer than most, and they closed tonight's show very nicely. They need to work on their emotion, though, but we can--" he coughed harshly, Carlos wincing sympathetically. "Sorry. We can work on that later."

Carlos nodded in agreement, satisfied and relieved to finally have confirmed pronouns for Intern Leslie. "I think they'll do fine." He said, setting his now-empty bowls on the coffee table in front of them, and settling back onto the couch. "We can listen tomorrow, if you want."

"Oh, I don't think I could bear it." Cecil moaned, snuggling up to Carlos. "I couldn't stand to hear someone else doing my show, I'd just keep thinking of things I'd have done differently and--" He sneezed harshly into a tissue, then sighed. "I'd just drive myself insane. But thank you, dearest Carlos."

"Well, I'm staying home tomorrow to take care of you, so..." Carlos said sheepishly. Cecil immediately sat up.

"Oh, no, Carlos, you don't have to do that!" He insisted. "I wouldn't dream of keeping you away from your science just to stay with me when I'm under the weather, possibly jinxing yourself in the process! I know you don't believe in luck, but it can have serious ramifications, and your safety must be taken into consideration."

"Cecil, it's okay. Most of my experiments have to wait a day or two anyway." Carlos said, still thinking regretfully of his lab. "Besides, you said it yourself; I need to learn to put important things--like my boyfriend--before science."

"Well, yes, but--I didn't mean to inconvenience you, is all." Cecil said, his rough voice contrite. Carlos gently pulled him back into standard cuddling position.

"It's not an inconvenience if it's for someone you love." He said without thinking. He immediately blushed when he realized just how unbelievably corny that line was, and winced, waiting for Cecil's reaction. He'd never be able to live this one down, for sure, the Sheriff's Secret Police officer assigned to him alone would tease him for weeks--

"Oh Carlos!" Cecil murmured, his voice a strange yet adorable combination of a squeak and a croon, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "That is so sweet!"

Okay, good. That could have gone worse. Carlos thought desperately, though he thought he heard the faint snicker of a Sheriff's Secret Police officer listening through the skylight. He laughed, albeit a bit nervously. "W-well it's true, I-I mean, uh, s-scientifically speaking, ah..."

"Of course. I love you too, Carlos. Scientifically speaking." Cecil murmured, snuggling up against him with a contented sigh. Carlos smiled fondly, wrapping his arm more securely around his ailing boyfriend. He still got a bit of a happy thrill when he thought that. Boyfriend. It was childish and silly, but enjoyable nonetheless.

Cecil was asleep, snoring slightly, before the movie was over, and Carlos didn't feel like disturbing him, especially since he was sick and in obvious need of rest. So he repositioned himself into a more comfortable position, careful not to wake Cecil, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

He was awoken suddenly by a harsh fit of sneezes from Cecil. He jerked awake, fumbling blindly for the tissue box by the couch, and quickly pressing a handful of the paper into Cecil's hands. The sneezes became muffled, so Carlos assumed they had been accepted and put to use.

"Sorry... Didn't mean to wake you up..." A rasping voice Carlos had to presume was Cecil's apologized. Carlos winced in sympathy, flicking on the table lamp to see Cecil, wrapped in blankets, pale, shivering, and miserable, a bundle of tissues clamped in his hands. He brought them up to his face as he coughed harshly.

"Aw, it's okay, sweetie, come on, let's get you into a proper bed." Carlos said sleepily, getting up and helping Cecil to do the same, leading him down the hall to the bedroom. It was still dark, so Carlos assumed it was still night, even though a sun-concealing phenomena of some sort should not be ruled out. But if the sun was being concealed, Carlos didn't want to know about it. He had promised to take care of his boyfriend and, was determined not to let science and his thirst for knowledge ruin it this time. Besides, Cecil had obviously only gotten worse. Carlos didn't think he should be left alone.

Carlos quickly got himself into pajamas as Cecil cocooned himself in the bedding, and climbed in next to him. Cecil immediately homed in on Carlos like a missile, only instead of exploding, he simply pressed himself against his boyfriend, shivering despite the many blankets. Carlos was startled to feel the feverish heat coming off Cecil's skin in waves. He wrapped his arms around him, bringing him closer.

"I'm not sure exactly why," Cecil whispered harshly. "But it is very, very cold."

Sure, it was a cold, desert night, but not "shivering convulsively beneath several blankets and snuggled up next to your boyfriend" cold. Carlos stroked his hair comfortingly.

"I know, Cecil, it's just the fever." He reassured. "It's throwing off your body's sense of temperature. You're actually very hot right now."

"Well I already knew that." Cecil rasped playfully. If it weren't pitch-black, Carlos was sure he'd see a suggestive smirk on his boyfriend's face.

"I was talking about the fever," Carlos said in mock admonition. "But I won't deny that fact."

"Fair enough." Cecil muttered, pressing his head against Carlos's chest. It shifted suddenly as Cecil sneezed, then coughed harshly. "If you weren't here right now, I'd feel truly miserable."

"You seem like you feel truly miserable anyway." Carlos murmured sympathetically, running his hands through Cecil's hair. Cecil hummed in pleasure, reaching up his hands to do the same to Carlos.

"Well, yes, but you're here, so it can't be true misery, not in your perfect, radiant, ever-so-warm presence, dear Carlos." He clarified sleepily. Carlos felt himself blush, and was glad it was dark. He really had to figure out how to get that under control. He'd have to run a few experiments on the matter later.

As he struggled to come up with some comment sufficient to express his affection in response, Carlos suddenly became aware that Cecil was snoring again. He sighed, half in affection, half in relief, and allowed himself to do the same once again.


I can't tell if it's a bit short or not, so if it is, so sorry!

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It's perfect. The whole thing is perfect and I adored it. Poor, sweet Cecil. Of course he'd feel lacking in purpose if he couldn't be the voice of Night Vale even for a day.

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Ack I made more! Oops!


Three days later, Carlos pronounced an antsy, stir-crazy Cecil healthy enough to go to work. His voice was finally restored to him, his fever gone, and his nose breathable, so as far as Cecil was concerned, everything was just neat.

Dave the scientist, however, felt things were not actually neat.

Carlos had come into work that day tired, despite endless cups of coffee, his voice scratchy and congested, having to pause periodically to sneeze or cough with rising degrees of illness. Rachelle had suggested he stay home, but Carlos refused, with an airy, if slightly exhausted, "Science doesn't take a break." He then proceeded to sneeze harshly several times and blow his nose. Rachelle exchanged an exasperated look with Haile, who merely shrugged and shook her head. A scientist is a lot of things. Stubborn is most definitely one of them.

The next day, though Haile and Joacim had both bet that he'd be physically incapable of getting out of bed, Carlos came into work twice as bad as before. He was obviously feverish, his cough was worse, so was his sneezing, and he could barely speak for loss of voice. Joacim and Haile both dejectedly handed over ten bucks to Dave and Rachelle.

After listening to Carlos have a fit of harsh, barking coughs and have to lean against a counter to catch his breath for the dozenth time, Dave had had enough. He made some excuse about slipping out to check on his car for a moment, and made like he was doing just that.

Getting into his car, he flicked on the radio real quick. The smooth, illustrious, soothing tones of Cecil's recently-restored voice announced the weather. Perfect timing.

Dave reached into the pocket of his lab coat for the phone he'd, ah, acquired from Carlos. He scrolled through the contacts and selected the one labeled "Cecil Palmer (<3)"

Before it had even rung once, Cecil answered; "Hellooooooo? Dearest Carlos?"

"Sorry, Cecil, it's Dave. Remember, from the lab?" Dave responded, smirking.

"Oh, of course, I remember! Wait, why are you calling from Carlos's cell phone then?"

"Well, we have a bit of a situation down here at the lab." Dave began, before Cecil cut him off.

"Oh my gosh, did something happen? Is it Carlos? Is Carlos hurt? Is he dead? Has he been taken in for reeducation? Is--" Cecil rambled frantically.

"Woah, no, Cecil, Carlos isn't hurt or anything, nothing happened!" Dave said quickly. "It's just, well... Carlos is really, really sick and he refuses to go home. In the name of science and all that. You know how it is." There was a moment of silence.

"Oh, dear, I was worried something like this would happen." Cecil fretted. "Don't worry, I'll just set up a prerecorded message to play after the weather, and come get him. I'll be down there before you know it!"

"Thanks, Cecil, I was hoping you'd say that." Dave said gratefully. "Take care, okay?"

"Of course. I'll see you soon." Cecil hung up. Dave quickly got out of his car, and surreptitiously returned Carlos's phone to the counter.

"Was your car okay?" Rachelle asked, with an obvious double wink.

"A-okay, Rach." Dave replied, rolling his eyes. Rachelle raised an eyebrow, and Dave nodded subtly. Honestly, working in Night Vale, Dave was pretty sure his fellow scientists thought they were turning into secret agents.

Not five minutes later (seeming to defy the laws of distance and time, but then what else was new in Night Vale?) there was a knock at the laboratory door. Carlos, coughing deeply into his arm, went to get it, but Dave beat him there.

"Carlos?" Cecil immediately asked, as Dave stepped aside to allow him access. He sighed in concern as he grabbed Carlos's shoulders, assessing his not-so-stellar condition. "Are you--oh, dear. Poor, sweet Carlos. Dave told me you were sick, but... Oh, Carlos!" He drew his bewildered boyfriend into a hug.

Dave smirked as Rachelle shook her head, and Joacim made kissy-face behind their backs. Haile seemed to be fighting off an "Awwwww!" Carlos looked, confused, between Dave and Cecil and his cell phone on the counter.

"You told my boyfriend on me?" He demanded raspingly as Cecil firmly coaxed him onto one of the stools, fussing over him, murmuring things like "Oh, poor Carlos." and "My dear, sweet, Carlos!" Dave shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

"Hate to say it, Carlos, but it was kinda painful to watch. Especially after you mis-measured that alkaline solution for the man-eating pavement samples." Dave said apologetically. "I felt like I was justified in calling in the boyfriend patrol."

"Wait, I did what?" Carlos asked in sudden panic. He made to get up, but started sneezing harshly, allowing Cecil to gently pull him back down.

"Don't worry, I fixed it before I applied the solution." Rachelle called from where she was updating her list of messages from the morse-code bacteria, which seemed to be reciting Genesis from the Bible backwards and in Portuguese.

"Carlos, you really should go home." Haile said worriedly, coming over and rubbing his arm comfortingly. "You have a fever, you're really sick. You'd just be doing yourself harm, staying here."

"Seconded!" Joacim called over. "Also, why are you fighting spending a few days at home with your hot boyfriend taking care of you? Science is there every day, man. Hot boyfriends with chicken soup? Limited supply."

"But--" Carlos cut off, coughing harshly. "But there's so much science to do here!"

"Carlos, remember what you told me? It's okay to have to take a break for a while." Cecil said, rubbing his hand over Carlos's hair comfortingly. "I promise, the science will still be here in a few days when you're feeling better. Unless something particularly odd happens, in which case I would be glad that you weren't here for it."

"But--but, I...!"

"Carlos. I did tell you that you need to learn to put things other than science first." Cecil said gently. "Your health is one of those things."

"I, but, I...!" Carlos finally sighed, coughing defeatedly. "Fine." He then glared at Dave. "You're still a traitor though."

"Duly noted." Dave said, smirking. "Take care of yourself, Carlos."

"I don't think he'll need to." Haile remarked as Cecil helped Carlos out of the lab. "I wish I had a boyfriend like that."

Dave saw Joacim sigh and return to his work, unnoticed by Haile. Rachelle didn't give any indication that anything had occurred, and simply kept on at her list of morse code messages. Dave, too, sighed. Leave it to him to be the only socially adept scientist in the world. He wondered if his next project should be the SS Haicim, or Operation: Get Rachelle a Date. After all, Operation Cecilos had obviously gone swimmingly, and it was nice to see Carlos having a little non-science-related fun for once, not to mention such a wonderful boyfriend. The irony of the aromantic guy having to play matchmaker for all his socially awkward science friends was not lost on him. Nor was the saddening fact that he knew more about romance than the people who actually felt a physical inclination to seek it.

Dave glanced behind him to see Joacim give a longing glance towards sweet, oblivious Haile. Okay. SS Haicim it is.


Sorry, it kinda got a bit headcanony in the end there. See, my theory is that Night Vale, though dangerous and often hostile, is a place of great acceptance for things many people in the outside world find controversial. Night Valeians simply don't care about who you are, how you are, or who you love, how you love. In a place where you could die at conceivably any moment from conceivably anything, who has the time or patience to worry about that kind of thing? As a result, many people running from things--perhaps persecution in the outside world--manage to find their way to Night Vale. Dave's family wasn't accepting of his being aromantic. Joacim was attacked in the name of racism. Haile was a consistent victim of sexism and sexual harassment. Rachelle was persecuted for being trans.

Maybe Carlos had a falling out with his family over his being gay.

Night Vale was an escape, and became a haven of acceptance for them.

Anyway, sad headcanons aside, Carlos is sick now. ;) Hope you enjoy!

Edited by SpamKey
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. "I promise, the science will still be here in a few days when you're feeling better. Unless something particularly odd happens, in which case I would be glad that you weren't here for it."



So glad there was more. I adore your head cannons, sad though they are. There's space for all the misfits in Nightvale <3 Dave is a shipper and it's great.

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I love this! So much! And I love all your headcanons and details that make it feel very real and very Night Vale. Keep up the wonderful work!

(So glad it's Carlos's turn now twisted1.gif )

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  • 1 year later...

Awwwwwwwww! Hot boyfriends and love confessions and so many cuddles and staying home from work to cuddle more. This was wonderful! It really captured the feel of Night Vale and the characters, of course. And I love Cecil unable to stand hearing someone else doing his show. Awww.

Thanks for writing this!

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  • 1 month later...

Okay, this is just amazing! Your characterisation is absolutely perfect, and your descriptions of the symptoms are delightful!

On 19/12/2014 at 5:12 AM, SpamKey said:

Cecil's radio show was 40% news, 40% drama, and 25% lack of any sense. But those pauses hadn't been quite aesthetic. It wasn't like Cecil to slip up on his histrionics.

And this ^ is probably my single favourite pair of sentence in anything I've ever read. 

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  • 9 months later...

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