Chapter Text
HOME
His feet hurt. They hurt. But he kept them moving, kept walking, first over miles of endless sand, then over rough asphalt. First approaching mountain mirages, charlatan horizons and then the familiar cityscape of a place that had first been an exciting scientific oddity of a town and was now the closest thing he had to a home.
His feet still hurt, but the euphoric joy of finally finding his way back home made him feel like he was floating as he approached the city streets. His steps faltered slightly as he noticed differences, subtle changes in the layout, a shifting of familiar landmarks. But Night Vale was a town that was constantly shifting, constantly changing in response to it's unusual location in space and time and he has been gone...what? A few weeks, maybe a month or so?
His hand went up to his face, where he had a bit of a scruffy beard forming along his jaw and chin. He had tried his best to keep his hair tamed, but the desert heat and the rough conditions left it an unmanageable rat's nest on his head. He knew he looked (and probably smelled) deplorable, but he didn't bother detouring to his lab prior to seeing Cecil.
Cecil. He missed Cecil. They had talked several times on his cell during the first few days in the desert wasteland before his phone had started having trouble. It failed picking up signals, calls were dropped. Eventually, when a call would go through to Cecil's number, it would only produce overwhelming bursts of static or the drone of a busy signal. He hoped Cecil hadn't been too worried about the lack of communication.
His heart leapt as he saw their house, lights on inside, making it look cozy and inviting. His eyes drifted over the unfamiliar vehicle parked in the driveway...had Cecil gotten a new truck...? and bounded up the stairs. His heart was pounding and he wiped his sweaty palms on his stiff, dust stained jeans before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door.
There were footsteps on the other side and then the door was open and Cecil was there. He, like the town, looked a little different. His hair was styled differently than usual, the frames of his glasses were new, and the lines of his face were a little more defined than what Carlos remembered, but he hardly noticed.
What he did notice was Cecil's reaction upon seeing him. He had expected tears, possibly, or disbelief, or exuberant excitement. What he didn't expect was the way the blood drained from Cecil's face, leaving him pale and washed out, or the way Cecil took a weary step back from him. His eyes widened, and seemed all the more bright and luminous against the paleness of his face.
"Cecil, baby? It's me," Carlos said. He wanted to touch Cecil so bad it was a physical ache, wanted to wrap him in his arms and feel him against his body, to breathe him in and hold him, God he wanted to hold him so badly, but Cecil looked so confused and panic-stricken that Carlos held back, and tried to keep his voice as calm and soothing as he possibly could.
Cecil put a hand over his mouth, the other one clutching at the doorframe and shook his head mutely. His eyes shone, then tears were slipping over his lashes and trickling down his cheeks.
"Cecil-" Carlos took another step forward. Cecil didn't just step, but stumbled back and bumped into someone who was approaching the doorway.
"Babe, who is--"
Carlos' gaze shifted to the newcomer. He recognized him, having seen him around town on several occasions, usually trailed by children, like a duck with ducklings. The last time Carlos had seen him, he had been struggling, dragged away by mute children into an endless chasm of nothingness.
Earl Harlan blinked at him, a similar spark of recognition lighting up his eyes. He glanced at Cecil, then at Carlos and something else flickered across his face...resignation? disappointment?...before hardening. The other man gave him a stiff nod.
"Carlos."
Cecil looked from Earl to Carlos and back to Earl before his eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed bonelessly. Carlos sprang forward but Earl had already caught him underneath the arms. Carlos lifted his feet and helped carry the man further into the house--their house, Carlos reminded himself--and propped his feet up on an unfamiliar couch as Earl gently deposited him on the floor.
Carlos watched as Earl bent over Cecil, checking his breathing and pulse.
"Is he okay?" Carlos asked, trying to ignore the hot hard knot forming in his chest.
"I think so." Earl knelt down next to Cecil, ruffling his hair with a mix of exasperation and affection. "Probably just overwhelmed from seeing you back. And he probably hasn't eaten enough today either. Still..." The former Scoutmaster turned to an open window. "Hey Otis? Can we get EMT over here just in case?"
"Sure thing," came a muffled reply from outside.
Carlos was staring as several things caught his attention. Earl was in his house. Carlos didn't recognize most of the furniture. Earl knew their SSP agent. Earl also looked and acted like he was way to familiar with Carlos' boyfriend for Carlos' liking.
"Well, thank you, but I can take things from here," Carlos finally said, forcing his voice to remain steady and stern. After several weeks in thin desert air, it came out weaker than he would have liked.
Earl regarded him for a moment, then that look, that hardness returned to his eyes, turned his face into a collection of planes and angles. "No, I don't think so."
Carlos gestured to Cecil. "This is my boyfriend. My house."
"You're wrong." Earl sat back on his heels. "Listen, Mr. Scientist."
Carlos scowled. He was used to Cecil calling him that sometimes, to tease him and some of the townsfolk even called him that was well, with friendly affection. Earl's tone was cold, almost sarcastic.
"I don't know why you thought Cecil would just wait around for you to come wandering back from wherever you decided to waltz away to for all these years, but he didn't. Things are different now. This is not your house anymore. It's ours. Cecil is not your boyfriend. He's my husband and I am going to be the one taking care of him."
Carlos felt like someone had punched him in the gut.
Husband. Husband. Husband.
His eyes automatically went to Earl's left hand, saw the slim band encircling his finger. He could see Cecil's hand from his current vantage point; there was a matching band on his as well.
"Go back to where you came from, scientist," Earl practically spat the word out. "Cecil will be fine. I'm here to take care of him."
"The hell you are," Carlos retorted, advancing on him. Earl rose to his feet. The former Scoutmaster was taller than he was and there was a promise of strength underneath his fluid movements. Carlos had no intention of backing down. This was his house, his boyfriend, his life and he was not going to let some old flame of Cecil's steal it away just because he had taken a couple weeks to do some science in the desert.
"Get out," Earl said, with soft, measured tones. Carlos saw the way he moved, placing himself in between him and Cecil. It was a protective gesture, one that made the hard knot in his chest flare hot. Earl was protecting Cecil. From him.
Carlos was hardly aware of moving until his fist met the hard ridge of Earl's jaw. Earl recoiled slightly from the impact, but Carlos had a suspicion that the blow probably hurt his hand more than it did Earl. As it was, Earl didn't even stumble or step back.
But he did hit Carlos back. Carlos wasn't a weakling, but he was feeling the effects of dehydration, exhaustion and hunger, enough so that the resulting strike sent him reeling. He staggered and almost fell, as a deep pain bloomed from the point of impact and radiated across his face in aching rays. He found his balance before he fell and set his stance, pulled back for another punch even though he knew he was outmatched. Before he could follow through, a strong hand closed around his arm.
Carlos, startled, glanced over to see a balaclava-clad figure standing by. Carlos was still tempted to try another swing and tried to shake him off, only to feel the grip on his arm tighten around the same time a long sweep of exhaustion and vertigo passed over him. He let the SSP officer guide him over to the front door.
"Charges, Mr. Palmer-Harlan?" the officer asked.
Earl was bent back over his husband, rechecking his pulse. "No, just make sure he is out of the way by the time rescue squad gets here."
The officer kept hold of Carlos until he was safely out on the street. Carlos yanked free. "Thanks for nothing," he snarled.
"Welcome back Dr. Mendoza," the SSP officer said politely. "Do you require accommodations for the night?"
Carlos just glared at the figure, glanced back at his house---his fucking house!---then turned away and stalked down the street.
He was only slightly disappointed to find that his keycard didn't open up the lab doors for him. He pressed a finger against the intercom button instead.
"Hello?" A staticky female voice came over the line. Carlos sighed with relief. Even with the distortion from what was now an antiquated system damaged by relentless dust storms, he could recognize Rachelle's voice instantly.
"Rachelle, can you let me up? It's Carlos."
There was a long pause.
"Who?"
"Carlos."
There was another lengthy pause and Carlos was about to give up and see if he could find another place to regroup--maybe the Moonlight All Night Diner was still around--but then the door buzzed and swung open. He had barely stepped inside when he heard a clatter of heels in the hallway and Rachelle appeared.
The changes in her were the most noticeable. She had a new short haircut, a flashy pair of earrings and wore a skirt with high heels. She looked nothing like his old scientist friend and if it weren't for the lab coat she wore with her badge on it, he might have thought he had the wrong person.
"Oh my God," she whispered. "Carlos!"
She stepped forward and hugged him. He returned the embrace gratefully and felt an unexpected surge of tears when he realized this was the kind of reaction he had hoped to get from Cecil. She stepped back and cupped his face in her hands, beaming at him. With her, too, he could see that she had aged. There were streaks of gray in her hair as well, a network of fine lines starting to fan out from her eyes and increased softness in her generous curves. He gripped her wrists as she drew her hands away.
"What's going on here Rachelle?" he asked. His mind was awash with confusion, but he was already putting some pieces together and coming up with some very unsettling conclusions.
"After you disappeared, oh God Carlos, we all thought you were dead!" Rachelle said.
"Dead? How--How long was I gone?"
"Years, Carlos, years."
"How many?" he ground out. He struggled to keep his hands from tightening around her wrists, from shaking her in frustration as his panicked mind began to claw the inside of his skull for answers.
"Seven or eight, I think."
Carlos released his grip on her hands, feeling his stomach drop. He figured that he had been gone far longer than the four weeks he had counted, but not...
"Carlos?" Rachelle's voice sounded like it was coming from far away. He found himself sitting down hard on a lab bench and Rachelle pushing on his shoulders, lowering his head down between his knees.
"Breathe, Carlos, breathe," Rachelle said. Carlos did as she asked, drawing in deep breathes, closing his eyes and clenching his fists to try and center himself. He listened to the sound of Rachelle's heels clicking against the linoleum as she bustled back and forth. A few minutes later, he opened his eyes and sat up. Rachelle pressed a glass of juice into his hand and he took a sip.
"Thanks," he said.
"Do you remember the last time you ate or drank anything?"
Carlos shook his head.
"I called Dana and told her that we would eat at home tonight and to set an extra place at the table."
"I don't want to intrude-"
"You're not intruding. You need something to eat and I'm sure as hell not leaving you alone right now." She knelt down next to him and pressed a wet cloth against his chin. "What happened to your face?"
"Earl happened."
Rachelle cursed softly. "You would have gone there first, of course. Sorry Carlos. Come with me, you need some food and I have a ton of questions."
At a loss, Carlos followed Rachelle out of the lab.
"I was staying late to get some experiments done, but I don't think Dana will mind me showing up to help with dinner," Rachelle said as she locked up the lab. She glanced at Carlos. "I better drive. How are you feeling?"
"Fine," Carlos said. Thankfully, he meant it. His mind was just a pleasant white blank at the moment. It stayed that way as Rachelle drove through the streets of the town he used to know.
"I finally convinced Dana to move out of the apartment a few years ago and invest in a real house," Rachelle said as she pulled up to a small bungalow.
"It's nice," Carlos said as he followed her to the front door.
"Dana?" Rachelle called as she shut the door behind him. "I brought a guest for dinner."
Carlos glanced around the living room, which was a cozy collection of comfortable looking sofas and chairs clustered around a television; the walls lined with municipally approved books.
"Who is it?"
Carlos turned at the sound of Dana's voice and couldn't keep the surprise off of his face. Dana didn't look terribly different from the way he had last seen her, perennially youthful and pretty. But even the billowy dress she was wearing didn't hide the fact that she was very much pregnant.
"It's rude to stare Carlos," Dana finally said and Carlos blushed, and averted his eyes from the bulge under her dress. She walked over and pushed herself up on her toes to kiss him on the forehead. "Welcome home."
"Thank you."
Rachelle spread her hands. "No kiss for your wife?" she asked with mock indignation.
Dana rolled her eyes and gave Rachelle a kiss. "Come on Carlos," she said over her shoulder as she walked back into the kitchen. "You look like you are about to fall over."
"How can I help?" Carlos asked, suddenly aware of how filthy he was in the spotless kitchen.
"You can help by sitting down and resting," Dana said. "Did you just get back into town?"
"Yeah," Carlos said, sitting down. "Uh...when are you due?"
"Next month," Rachelle said. "And you should be resting too."
"I left the office early," Dana said.
"Doesn't count if you went in early."
"Stop mother henning and set the table," Dana retorted. Rachelle set out plates, glassware and cutlery, then pestered Dana until the other woman gave up with a sigh and went to sit at the table with Carlos.
"Bring over some of that guacamole you made the other night then," Dana requested as she lifted her legs onto another chair and leaned back with a little sigh. "Try it Carlos, Rachelle is a genius in the kitchen. Must be all that science."
Rachelle set a small bowl of guacamole out with some corn chips.
"Is the ban against wheat and wheat by-products still in effect?" Carlos asked.
"As far as we know," Rachelle answered, turning back to the oven. "We retest every few years, but everyone has gotten so used to it that's it not really much of an issue anymore."
"Rachelle came up with a lot of wheat-free recipes and then local restaurants found out about them and started using them as well and it spread all over town," Dana said proudly.
Carlos took a corn chip and sampled the guacamole. It was delicious and the small taste woke up his dormant appetite. He had cleared the plate almost before realizing it. Dana poured him another glass of water, which he accepted gratefully.
"So, do you know the sex?" he asked, nodding to Dana's stomach.
"Well, all the diviners at Night Vale General seem to think I'm carrying twins...one boy and one girl," Dana said. She patted her stomach. "Sure feels like I am."
Rachelle set dishes down on the table and loaded up Carlos' plate with chicken, mashed sweet potatoes and zucchini with quinoa stuffing. Carlos ate until he began to feel sick, after he had put away two helpings and had downed several more glasses of water.
Rachelle refilled his and Dana's glass after she had cleared the plates away and Dana regarded him curiously. "Carlos. How old are you?"
"35."
"And how old were you when you came to Night Vale?"
"33."
"I was 22 when I became mayor of Night Vale. I'm 30 years old now," Dana interjected. "Rachelle?"
"I came to Night Vale the same time you did Carlos. I was 36. I'm 44 now."
If Cecil aged the same way they did, he would be 34 by now, Carlos realized.
Rachelle reached out and gently touched Carlos' chin. "You don't look like you've aged at all. It's incredible."
"I haven't been gone eight years," Carlos said. "I know that time works differently in Night Vale, but I was not gone eight years. I was gone a few weeks, maybe a month, tops. That's all."
"I believe you," Rachelle said. "There must have been some kind of temporal divergence in this other world. Speaking of which, Carlos, I was hoping to get some samples?"
Carlos glanced at her. "Back to the lab?"
Rachelle shook her head. "No, no, I can get them here."
Carlos turned the glass he was drinking from in his hands.
"First, I want to be filled in on some of the things that have happened while I was gone."
"Sure." Rachelle leaned forward a little, resting her elbows on the table. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything."
Rachelle smiled. "That's a large subject area. Can you narrow it down?"
"Cecil."
Rachelle sat back and exchanged a glance with her wife. "Dana could probably tell you more."
Dana shifted in her chair and turned her attention to Carlos.
"It was hard on him Carlos, losing you. He would talk about you a lot, about the calls and pictures and texts he got from you and..." Dana lifted her hands and shook her head. "Then the calls stopped coming. We didn't know why. Cecil was falling apart. He held himself together on the radio, but he had started drinking to forget, like a lot. Wasn't eating, wasn't sleeping..." Dana shook her head. "Josie and I tried to help, but she has the Erikas and I had my job as the mayor and Rachelle had to take care of the lab and your team..." her voice trailed off. "And nothing helped," she finally continued after a long pause. "Nothing was going to help except for you coming home." Dana's dark hand crept across the table and found Rachelle's. "Earl had come back around the same time you had left. He was a friend of Cecil's from childhood. They had dated a little bit, but it was a casual thing, never went anywhere. And then Earl was taken by the mute children-"
"At the Eternal Scout ceremony, I remember," Carlos interrupted. That was shortly before he and Cecil started dating.
"But he returned, after you were gone, and he and Cecil started spending a lot of time together. And slowly, Cecil started to get better. Earl works at a restaurant now, so he would bring Cecil food, making sure he was eating and would keep him from drinking too much. Eventually, they started dating."
"When-When did they-"
"They got married two years ago," Rachelle told him, her voice gentle. "We all thought you were dead, Carlos, all of us. Cecil held out the longest, but after five years or so, he had to...he needed closure. He needed to move on."
"I understand," Carlos said, gripping his glass so tightly his knuckles were turning white. He took a deep breath in through his nose, let it out slowly. "What about the team?"
Rachelle brightened visibly. "It's good. We have a steady source of funding now so we were able to take on more scientists for specific specialties and we took on more grad students."
"How is Dave? Daytona? And Santiago?"
"Santiago is good. He and Bianca got married a few years ago. Daytona graduated and set up a volunteer program at the Night Vale Zoo."
"Dave?" Carlos prompted. Next to Cecil, Rachelle and Dana, Dave was one the people he was most looking forward to reuniting with.
Rachelle wouldn't meet his eyes. "Dave is gone. He...he died."
Carlos closed his eyes. Disappointment flooded over him, stronger than he expected. He had known Dave for years, almost as long as he had known Rachelle. They had been graduate school buddies, and he had been part of the original Night Vale team.
"How?"
Rachelle still wouldn’t look at him.
"He went spelunking in some caves that he theorized might lead into Hidden Gorge," Dana finally said. "He was attacked by...something."
"Something," Carlos repeated flatly.
Dana nodded and glanced at Rachelle meaningfully before speaking again. "Rachelle, sweetheart, why don't you get Carlos settled down for tonight? I'll get some of my brother's things, they should fit you Carlos."
Rachelle nodded. "Come on. I have a futon set up in the basement, you can stay there for as long as you need. Your room above the lab has been packed up and it's mostly used for storage, but we'll work on getting it cleared back out for you right away."
Carlos followed her down the stairs.
"We used to have a guest room, but it's being set up as a nursery for the baby right now," she explained, unlocking the basement.
"I didn't know you wanted children," Carlos said.
Rachelle shrugged. "I didn't, when I was single. But with Dana...it was something she wanted and now that we're somewhat settled down, it sounded like a good idea." She flicked the lights on. "She didn't want me to carry our baby, with the type of work I do. Not that hers is much safer."
Carlos glanced around. There was a smaller, compressed version of her own lab space in one corner of the basement, along with a washer, dryer and a futon near a small bathroom, with shelves attached to the wall.
"Do you work down here a lot?" he asked.
"Not really. I sleep down here, sometimes, if I get caught late at work. Dana doesn't sleep well and I don't want to risk waking her up if I come in after she's gone to bed." She turned to look at him. "Can I-"
"Yeah, sure."
He knew Rachelle too much to be embarrassed as she gathered samples, collecting dirt from under his fingernails, saliva, navel dust and strands of hair.
"Do you have any theories?" she asked.
"A couple," Carlos replied, and involuntarily let out a jaw-cracking yawn. Rachelle put her sample trays away. "Get some rest, Carlos, you're exhausted."
Dana came in a few seconds later with a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt in her hands. "They might be a bit small," Dana said apologetically.
"Thank you Dana," he said, taking them from her. "I appreciate everything you have done for me."
She gave him a small surprised smile. "You're welcome Carlos. You're our family."
Rachelle nodded. "We're glad you're back. We'll be right upstairs if you need anything. Please make yourself at home."
Carlos felt filthy and in need of shower, but settled for washing his hands and face and brushing his teeth before changing into his borrowed clothes and collapsing on the futon.