The Space Between

By: InitialA

Disclaimer: None of these things are mine. What am I, an alphabet inventor?

"Cecil?"

"Carlos!"

Carlos sat up too quickly; his head spun for a moment. "Oh my—"/"How did you—"

He blinked. "I was just—"/"I wanted to—"

"You go first."/"You go first."

Carlos chuckled; he heard Cecil snort on the other end. "Ah… okay. Let's not talk at the same time. I go, you go, et cetera."

"Deal."

"So… I'm sorry?"

"I think I should apologize first, and explain."

Carlos listened to Cecil explaining the trifecta of bad news bears that had happened the day he left; if it were anyone else, anyone at all, he was sure he'd barely listen to the explanation before cutting him off with a curt 'Thanks, and goodbye'. But this was Cecil. And this was Night Vale. He hadn't spent a year there for no reason at all. Hell, when Cecil finished, Carlos said, "That's all? I mean… I've been thinking of some strange scenarios… but that one is mild in comparison."

Cecil spluttered on the other end; Carlos had somehow forgotten that in the last few months. The normally eloquent Cecil was prone to no more than squawks of outrage and random syllables thrown together when he was absolutely at his limit. "What do you mean, that's all?! And here I was, depressed and thinking you hated me!"

"Well, I did for a while."

"What?!"

"Cecil, calm down. I called you when I landed, but apparently no Night Vale phone numbers exist outside of Night Vale. I thought you hated me for leaving and got a new phone number and deleted your email or something. So I kind of hated you for that for a while. When I got tired of being so angry, I got depressed. Eventually, my employees ganged up on me and made me talk it out, and that's when the pieces started falling into place."

"I think it was established a long time ago that it will be absolutely impossible for me to ever hate you."

"I'm glad," Carlos said softly. "And I'm glad the secret police can still somehow track my phone out here."

"No problem, kid. You should have heard this guy's show tonight. Eddie over here, he practically begged me to hook you two up again after listening to that," a third voice said.

Carlos wasn't even surprised at the intrusion. It was actually a little comforting. "Well, thanks."

"So… you don't hate me."

"I don't. As long as you don't hate me."

"Never."

"I missed you," Carlos said.

"I did too. Everyone does, really," Cecil said. "But mostly me. I make up at least eighty percent of the combined 'missing-Carlos' emotions."

Carlos smiled, and leaned into the couch. He opened his mouth, and then realized he didn't know what to say. So many weeks of just… wanting to talk to Cecil, about everything and anything, and now that he could? Nothing. That was the definite drawback to phones. There wasn't room for a lot of natural flow of conversation, existing in the same space and commenting about whatever is happening, making jokes, teasing one another. No comparisons of how the Glow Cloud is affecting each other that day. He blinked, and realized that several minutes had passed with neither of them saying anything. "Sorry, I er…"

"I was listening to you breathing."

"Er…"

"This isn't the same, is it?" Cecil asked, worried.

"I was just thinking that…"

They were silent again for a moment. Then, Carlos abruptly jerked the phone from his ear as Cecil yelled, "I've got it! I'll come and visit!"

"Well, that will certainly help. Sure. When do you think you'd be able to come?"

"Tomorrow? How does tomorrow work?"

Carlos blinked. He looked at the calendar. "Tomorrow's Christmas Eve…"

"What's that?"

Oh, right. Christmas wasn't a 'thing' in Night Vale. "It's… it's a big holiday, and there's a lot of travel. Can you even get a flight this last minute?"

"Can a hooded figure eat twelve grasshopper pies in under five minutes?"

"Er… I'm going to assume the answer to that is 'yes'."

And that's how Carlos found himself at the airport on Christmas Eve, trying to dodge last-minute travelers rushing to their gates or to their waiting families. He was an hour early, but by Night Vale time, he might be six hours late. He was never entirely sure how the math worked out. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the flight board and it showed that not only was the flight on time, but he was still early.

He spent the time pacing, mostly, and watching families reunite. While he wasn't particularly religious, despite growing up in a dual-faith home, he did love the feel of this time of year, and seeing people greet each other after long periods of separation was part of it. He realized after the fifth reunion or so that he was going to be part of one of those reunions very soon, and his stomach flipped over. A swarm of butterflies erupted in his chest, and he started to pace again as he tried to figure out exactly how he was going to greet Cecil. He wasn't particularly big on public displays of affection, but he needed to do something.

An announcement was made overhead about Cecil's flight arriving at the terminal, and Carlos thought he might actually throw up all over the Santa Claus display.

Somehow, he managed to compose himself long enough to stand near the entrance to the baggage claim, and clasp his hands behind his back. His fingers twitched in anticipation. He was suddenly very grateful for his height as he tried to scan the mass of people for Cecil. Carlos felt an all-too familiar sinking feeling in his chest as the crowd thinned, with no sign of him. He went back to the flight board. His flight was marked as 'arrived'. Arrived how? Metaphorically? Existentially? Literally? Carlos pinched the bridge of his nose. I lived in Night Vale for far too long.

He raked his fingers through his hair and started walking back towards the baggage claim when he heard, "Carlos?"

He turned. A gangly figure was running towards him. All pretenses were lost. Whatever plan he'd had flew out of his mind as he braced himself, opened his arms wide, and Cecil threw himself at him. Carlos spun him around as Cecil laughed—and maybe cried, he wasn't sure—and hugged him tighter.

Eventually, Cecil's feet touched the floor again, and they untangled their limbs from each other. Carlos cleared his throat. Cecil just grinned. "So, ah, do you have any bags?"

"Just the one."

They went and collected it. Carlos glanced around discreetly when Cecil took his hand on the way out, but at that point there were too few people around to care. "I'm still impressed you got a flight," he said as they walked to his car.

"Oh, it was nothing. Intern Dana owed me a favor, and she has a way with the hooded figured these days. It's very cold, isn't it?" Cecil asked.

"Oh, right. Here, I brought my spare coat." Carlos unlocked the doors and heaved the suitcase in the back, dragging the coat out after and handing it to him.

Cecil beamed. "Sweet, perfect Carlos, how very thoughtful of you."

Carlos, to his eternal embarrassment, found himself blushing. He was an accomplished man with a Ph.D, and several relationships under his belt! Blushing like a schoolboy! He coughed. "I mean, I knew you wouldn't have one…"

"And so smart, too."

They got in the car, and waited for it to defrost. "So… was there anything you had in mind to do first?"

"You," Cecil said.

Carlos felt his face warm even further. Cecil was grinning slyly; were his teeth pointier than he remembered? "Er… Well, ah," Carlos' voice pitched to a level heard only by canines, and Cecil grinned wider. "I mean, before we got to that point."

"Ah, well…" Now it was Cecil's turn to look abashed. In fact, he looked around, almost guiltily. "Is it… can we…"

Carlos frowned, curious. Cecil's voice dropped to a whisper. "Can we get a real pizza?"

Carlos laughed, and headed for the nearest pizza place that might still be open.

In bed that night, Carlos slept deeply for the first time since leaving Night Vale, he and Cecil wrapped around each other, fingers intertwined.

The next few days were some of the best he could remember; it was funny, for once being the person who understood everything. Not that Cecil was completely ignorant; he was aware of most things, but as he hadn't left Night Vale in nigh-on fifteen years (or visited many places that weren't similar in nature), there were some advances that he needed to catch up on. Night Vale itself was pretty good at keeping up with outside technology, and even surpassing it, but it was still amusing to watch Cecil attempt to talk to the Wii games to command them, instead of using the Wiimote.

But even so, he noticed that after a few days Cecil seemed to be even more exuberant than usual. He would respond more enthusiastically than necessary to simple questions or suggestions; Carlos dreaded it, but it was probably time for Cecil to go home.

The topic was broached cautiously, but even Cecil had to agree that he was having a difficult time adjusting. When they drove back to the airport, Cecil stared at his hands. "This doesn't bode well, does it?"

"It's not your fault," Carlos said. "I had trouble readjusting, and I only spent a year there."

"But what about…"

Carlos covered Cecil's hands with one of his. "We'll figure something out."

Cecil sighed. It had been a few weeks since his visit to see Carlos, and he was feeling that pit of despair gnawing at him again. He made a mental note to call an exterminator; it was dangerous to just leave despair pits lying around. Whole economies were known to spontaneously combust thanks to a despair pit latching on to a tourist and following them home.

He hit backspace several times, and tried writing out his notes for that night's show again. The words just wouldn't come. Words! From him! Why, he could talk his way out of… out of… "Argh! I can't even make up an eloquent metaphor about my stupid writer's block!" Cecil shouted, messing his hair up in frustration.

Maybe he should just read right off the script this time, instead of trying to be clever. He was allowed to have an off-night now and again, right? Besides, Intern Gary (Hugo had vanished into the ice cream freezer at the Green Market just after Cecil had returned) wasn't too bad at rewriting the memos into something vaguely Cecil-like. He sighed. "I just hope station management understands..."

His doorbell rang. Cecil blinked, wondering who it might be, and went to answer. "Hellooooo—Carlos!" He squeaked out the name as the door revealed the scientist, a large suitcase next to him, and a large box under his arm.

"Hey."

"What… a wonderful surprise!"

"I ah… Well, one of the projects isn't responding to the data we're using. I thought it might be because it's more than a year old. Variables change, particularly here." Carlos shifted the box slightly to balance it. "So I thought… Well, instead of sending someone unfamiliar with the area out to retest, I might… set up shop again."

"You're back?" Cecil asked, his voice almost inaudible.

"Yeah. And since I head the project, I figured that I say who goes where and when. So I'm back… for good," Carlos grinned, and almost dropped the box as Cecil launched himself at him. He wrapped one arm around him. "They're always complaining about wanting fresh data anyway, and how I mope when you're not around."

Cecil buried his face in Carlos' shoulder, smelling the recycled oxygen from the plane as well as the spiced antiperspirant Carlos used. Back… for good. Cecil yelped, "I have something to write about for tonight's show!"

Carlos chuckled, the sound vibrating through to Cecil. "Always glad to be a part of the town gossip."

"So, what's all this?" Cecil asked as Carlos put him back down.

"Well, I was thinking… until I find a place, would you be alright with me staying with you?"

Cecil contained himself this time, only nodding vigorously. Carlos leaned down, cupped his neck in one hand, and pulled him in as their lips met. "I love you," he said when they parted.

"I love you too," Cecil replied.

As they took Carlos' things inside, he asked, "Oh, I kept forgetting to ask. Where was your car, that day I left?"

Cecil looked over his shoulder. "It went on an existential ramble. It does that every now and then," he said, as if it were an absolutely rational explanation.

Which, of course, it was.

((Thank you so much for reading! This last bit was a little choppy, I'm sorry, but that's my fault for not figuring out the pacing of the story better. ^^;; ))