#like of course ive drawn my face before. not that often actually. but since yes i do draw. i have drawn myself

[britneyshakespeare]

My toxic trait is that I like how my incomplete drawings look better than the finished things

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XII: Fever Ray

Hmm...where was I? When I opened up my eyes, I noticed I was laying down in a bed, but not my bed. A Talking Heads song started to play in my mind, but I couldn’t remember which one.

I leaned up and saw a tube attached to me, and next to me, IV bags.

Did I get my organs stolen again? I couldn’t help but wonder. Sure, it had been a while since such a thing happened, but there could’ve been some debt I needed to pay off that I forgot about.

That notion was swept away as fast as it had been drawn up. Someone entered through the door in a pair of scrubs and that was when I realized that I was in a hospital room.

Damn, my mind must be such a fog right now, considering it took me THAT long to figure it out.

“Hello again, Ray,” the doctor (or head nurse. Or surgeon. Or could have been an intern. I was still trying to sort my mind and I felt like I was ready to pass out again) greeted with a familiar, icy voice. But no, it wasn’t Remora.

“Hi Shirley,” I opened my mouth to speak. It was more like a creak, a croak, or even a groan. Tired, weak, and a hint of hoarse. If I could bring myself to joke, I would have said that I swallowed hoarse-radish.

“I told you: I’m Dr. Cole-Slaw. We’re not close enough that I’ll allow you to refer to me by my first name.”

Ah, Dr. Cole-Slaw. The doctor formerly known as Shirley Cole. But coleslaw was good, too. Especially with the right ingredients.

I managed a smile. It felt forced, even if the intent was genuine.

“But that can change, right?”

“Perhaps, but when you’re my patient, you will refer to me as ‘doctor’. Understand?”

Such charm. It was good to know she took her job seriously. That’s why she was my preferred doctor. But the question still remained as to why I was there. So of course she would tell me before I even had a chance to ask.

“I presume you know why you’re here, yes?”

There it was. I opened my mouth, but she spoke up again before I could reply.

“Your wife found you all stiff and purple, and then you fainted. Fade to black. End scene. Understand now?”

Oh. There it was. The arm thing. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t even move my head, but she must have seen in my eyes that I understood the situation.

“We spoke about this a few months early when you asked for a check up. Even though it must have been an issue far longer, you just let it go untreated.”

She moved about the room in less of a pace and more of a march. Eyes focused on me the whole time.

“First, your hand got shot. Hole right through the middle of your palm. Hurt like hell, I presume. Fine enough so far. Except you did not clean it.”

“I went right to the diner and took care of other business,” I recalled.

“While still bleeding? I hope not. Think of the poor floor. Good lord. Such indecency. Don’t you have a first aid kit in your establishment? I would think so, given the business you tend to deal in.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I dismissed. We already went through that very conversation when I asked her to check out my hand. At this point, it sounded more like she wanted to rub salt in my wound. My untreated, festering wound.

“I wasn’t finished,” she dismissed my dismissal. Of course. I should have known better than to talk back to a doctor. She took a second, as if to make sure I wouldn’t interrupt her. “Then, you went on for months pretending as if you were fine. Your wound on the outside healed, yes, but you already exposed them to the elements. Your hand became paralyzed, and you tried to hide such a fact. Honestly, I was surprised it didn’t happen right after you got shot, but, delayed reaction. It happens. Moving on.”

I didn’t even notice until she turned a page on her clipboard that she had been holding one.

“So here we are: your entire arm has been infected. Not only are you not able to use it, but if left untreated, it will spread.”

Maybe I had been in the vicinity of carelessness. Things happened. It was an easy mistake to make. But now that I was there, I could get antibiotics and it would all be fine. So it was fine. No need to worry.

“Hey,” she showed some grit in her voice. “Look at me.”

Well, how could I say no? I turned my head, and she stared down at me, and for a moment, I thought it was in contempt, but I had a slight gut feeling that underneath her face mask (which was endearing), deep down, she was getting a kick out of this.

“If you’re thinking of telling me that it was all an ‘oopsies’ and you were just careless, don’t. Out of all of your faults, being careless is not one of them. You are nothing if not meticulous. So refrain from that bullshit.”

That was one of my favorite things about being her patient; the lack of bedside manner really made me feel like it was less a talk between doctor and patient and more of a talk between friends.

“In any case, it’s none of my business if you want to die, but rather than construct an elaborate ruse around your loved ones, you could have talked to a therapist. I know a really good one. I’ve got his business card in my pocket right now, if you’re interested.”

“Pass,” I told her, with less of a passion than I wish I had. It was the tiredness the IV gave me. I felt the lights would soon fade, anyway.

“Very well. In any case, before you decide to check out of this existence, I think you ought to know that your condition is treatable, albeit you may want to consider the treatment before accepting as it will involve amputating your arm.”

That serious, huh? What was this, the 19th century?

“I see,” I managed to form the words. “Is Sunny around?”

“Yes. In the lobby.”

“I’d like to speak with her…” but I started to yawn and drift off.

When I awoke, I was still in the hospital bed. Which was good. That meant I hadn’t been kidnapped by a gang wanting secrets out of me. Of course, I didn’t even know if I had any secrets left to tell. Not even the secret about my arm now that Sunny knew.

To make matters worse about how out in the open I now was, I turned my head to the left and was shocked to see Sunny seated right next to me. Her hands were on my one uninfected hand. I did my best to muster a laugh.

“Careful. You should really put gloves on.”

To my surprise, she didn’t look all that angry for keeping something so serious from her. Well, the seriousness of it was up for debate. It wasn’t like I had cancer. No broken bones. No coma, either. Worst case scenario, I’d die due to a lack of action. Best case scenario, I’d go out on a limb.

“Hey hun,” I smiled. I felt a tear run down my face, so I closed my eyes.

“Looks like you managed to slip one past me as well,” she remarked. No hint of anger in her voice, either. I think I would have preferred her angry. It just seemed more appropriate.

“What can I say?” I meant it to sound more cheerful. Like, “what can I say? I’m good at what I do and I do it often.” You know, to be jovial. But instead, it sounded more like I was asking her what it was I should have said. I opened my eyes and saw her look up and around the room.

“I don’t know, but you’re clever, so I’ll let you think of something,” she replied, with a chuckle to boot. Passive-aggression? Genuine playfulness? My mind was too fogged up to tell the difference.

“I think I figured it wasn’t important enough to mention,” I began to tell her. Good. That was a start. “Like it would just resolve itself, y’know?” Hmm. Did I really believe that? Maybe I should have started over.

“Actually, I figured it was a small problem. Yeah. Like, what was one hand, right? You were gone for a while, and when you’d come back, I figured you’d barely notice. I didn’t expect it to spread.”

She gave no reply. Maybe I needed to try something else.

“Or maybe this is just who I am: I’m a curious person. I test things and I like to see what happens next.”

Not that one, either? Well, I was probably on the right track. Just a couple more explanations and I’d be there.

“You know, when I found out last night, my first thought was that it was my fault for being away so long,” she said at last. “But I just figured it would be like usual: we’d both do our things, have fun, and then when I came back, we’d both have fun together. That’s how it’s been in the past, hasn’t it?”

“It can still be like that,” I assured her. “I’m never not having fun. Even now, I can’t help but laugh.”

She let out a forced laugh. “Yeah. Me too.” Then, she let go of my hand. I watched as she got up. “Tell me, what were you thinking?”

I still couldn’t detect any anger. It didn’t even sound like she was upset.

“Ah…” I think it took me a moment to find the means to speak again.

“It wasn’t planned,” I told her at last. “It was the night in which I set out to recruit Remora. When I went to speak with her, I ended up irritating her just enough to the point that she shot right through the palm of my hand.” Oh, all of that was such old news, it didn’t seem worth repeating. But I did so just in case I never told her. “The pain was intense, and indeed, much blood was spilled. I took it all in stride, however. After all, I understood that it was a risk. In spite of her not being very emotional, she can be rather violent to those who piss her off. Or maybe that was the old her.”

I continued after I drew a quick breath. “I figured the handkerchief would suffice to stop the bleeding, and then I’d treat it later. After all, it wasn’t the first time I’ve been shot at.”

“Indeed, but go on…” My sunshine replied. So I did.

“I guess I treated it. Somewhat. The wound closed, there wasn’t a hint of blood. It was kind of a DIY job. In other words, it hurt like hell. Somewhere along the line, I started to notice that I was losing function of my right hand. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. By then, I just figured I may as well let it happen. Later, I had Dr. Cole-Slaw check it out and she confirmed. At the time, suggesting that I take antibiotics. Or that I should have taken them. Oh, it’s such a blur right now.”

“But you didn’t?”

“I didn’t. I figured, ‘why?’ If it was going to get worse, why not just let it happen? I’m someone who deals in high risks and high rewards, and sometimes, the risks and the reward are one and the same. You know how it is, right? Win some, lose some.”

I saw her shake her head.

“We both deal in dangerous things. I’m not upset about that. But if you know you can get your wounds treated, why wouldn’t you? If you don’t, how do you expect to live the life you want to?”

Heh. To that, I couldn’t help but smirk. I didn’t even care whether or not she saw me.

“To be honest,” I replied. “I’ve just never taken life all that seriously.”

After that, I went back to sleep. Blame it on the IV.

Of course. Sunny was still there. Times in the hospital was just like that; asleep, awake. Asleep, awake.

“Still here?” I asked.

“Of course! Can’t get rid of me that easily. Unless you want to lose that bet, too.”

I managed a chuckle. Ah, nostalgia.

“Hey, remember when we first met?” She sprung the question out of the blue. Just like Sunny. We were both such nostalgic people.

“You mean the night we got married? How could I forget?” I retorted.

I wondered how she saw it, and if I saw it the same way.

Ah, but before I got too ahead of myself, that wasn’t the story I told people, now was it? I’d often tell people that Sunny and I were high school sweethearts, a young couple who would spend time on the school bleachers during the sports team’s off-season. That wasn’t quite how we met, though. There were enough details that were true so that the “high school sweethearts” story wasn’t a total lie: for one, we did attend the same high school, and coincidentally, we did tend to sit at the same bleachers during the sports team’s off season.

We just never really noticed each other until way later.

So the version of the story that we told others was sweet enough. An ideal narrative. Maybe because the truth was far more ridiculous.

See, it was at a county fair, or something of the like, when it all happened. I passed by rigged games and carnival rides. Cotton candy, elephant ears, and hot dog stands all paraded as well. Wherever the crowds would migrate to, there was something ready to sucker others out of their money. Which was what brought me there in the first place.

I looked around and thought of all the ways I could make easy money fast; all I had to do was come up with a rigged game with a cheap prize attached and dollar after dollar would drop. Children begging their parents, a romantic partner urging the other to keep going to win them something. I already saw it all around me.

But before I could plan too far ahead with my scheme, I was stopped by the voice of an old woman.

“Heya sonny,” she crooned. It was funny, because she referred to me, and not Sunny. “I’ll read your fortune for a dollar.”

I laughed. I laughed so much that I decided to let myself get swept up in the thieving festivities.

“Very well,” I sneered while pulling out a dollar. “Let’s see what you got.”

She told me to hold out my palm. Great! She really played up the act! Excellent! After she closed her eyes, she took a moment, then said:

“The next person you meet will be the love of your life.”

Oh my! That was too good! Out of all the bold psychic statements, that’s the one she had to go with, huh? Very well, I thought. I’ll take her up on her bet.

I turned around and saw a buxom lass with curly brown hair all tied up in a thick, long pony tail.

“Hey there,” I said to her and pointed to the psychic’s booth. “Nice to meet ya, I’m Ray. I know we just met and all, but wanna prove this psychic right and get married?”

That was it. The moment that should have sealed the deal and proven that psychics were just as fake as all the other attractions.

She laughed. Like, a real chortle. Just a full-on hoot right there. Then, she put her hand on my shoulder, smiled a daring smile, and said, “that sounds stupid! I’m in!”

With that, the two of us left the fair and went down to the courthouse to fill out a marriage certificate. It only cost us, like, what? Fifty bucks? Afterward, since the day was still young, we opted to sit out on the grassy fields of a park.

“So, husband and wife, huh?” She turned to me and laughed.

I can’t believe that actually came true, I must’ve thought. Then again, it’s all in the wording. She never said anything about getting married. Just ‘love of your life’. We’ll see how this goes.

“It would appear so,” I nodded along. Then, I got a call from my best friend/roommate, Lucky.

“Hey bro, we still up for sucking each other off tonight?” He asked in that shameless manner that I loved about him. Too bad I had to be the bearer of bad news.

“Sorry, I’m married now,” I broke it to him in a nonchalant manner.

“Whoa. Dude. Since when?”

“Just now. We decided to prank a fortune teller.”

“Well grats, bro! Wish I was invited to the wedding.”

“Yeah, well, we didn’t have one.”

“All right, well, just to let ya know, I still expect cuddles tonight.”

“Of course. Talk to you later.”

I hung up the call and put the phone back into my pocket. Sunny must’ve heard the whole thing.

“Should we have had a wedding?” She asked, then changed her mind. “Ah, but then my family would want to be invited, and then they’d hate that I married a scoundrel. My mom and sister alike would’ve probably taken me aside and say, ‘you should’ve married someone nice and have kids’, which, y’know. Totally boring.”

I gave it a good thought and took zero offense to any of that. I knew who I was, and I was good at who I was.

“I get that. I got no problem with kids, myself. I used to launder money at a daycare. If I recall, I had a drug dealing business at the time. Don’t remember which drug, though.”

“Far out! The most adventurous thing I’ve ever done is explore abandoned buildings. Sometimes I find cool things people left behind and it makes for nice keepsakes!”

“You don’t say,” I made a note of what she said. “Well, I wouldn’t call what I do ‘adventurous’. It’s all about knowing the right people and avoiding the wrong ones.”

“Oh yeah? Then what would you call yourself?”

I shrugged. “I’d say I’m the wrong person who acts like the right person.”

I noticed Sunny pull something out from the corner of my eye. While my instinct wanted to say “gun”, I favored my odds that it wasn’t.

“Do you smoke?” She asked. That’s when I noticed that she held a joint between her fingers.

“Not really, but I keep a lighter around just in case,” I replied.

I lit her joint, and she took her first hit, which conjured up a mighty cough. She passed the joint to me and I got the clever idea to make a bet of it.

“Betcha I can take a hit without coughing.”

“You’re on,” she challenged my bluff.

Alas, it had been my first time, and although I would end up getting high many more times in the future, luck was not on my side. Within seconds of inhalation, my lungs waged a war against me and it took me a good bit to settle down.

“Oh yeah. Forgot to mention. This is the dank shit right here.”

We laughed along as we got to know each other more while waiting for the high to set in.

“So, like, get this...I’m like, pretty sure my sister’s into chicks, but she’s too preoccupied with the notion of being a caretaker or something like that. Like, she talks wanting a family ‘n shit, but it’s, like, so obvious.”

“Who’s to say you can’t have both?” I suggested.

“Oh yeah, totally. That’s me. I’m into chicks, but I also, like, guys are cool, too, and either way, it’s a win for me. Y’know?”

“Yeah, I get that. You did hear what I said to my bro on the phone, yeah?”

“It’s like they say, man! Boys will be boys! That’s what dudes do, right? Dudes…”

I had the faintest suspicion she was more high than I was. Maybe I just had a stronger tolerance. Case in point, while she was divulging her family’s details, I was busy thinking about business. So of course, a business idea popped into my head.

“So, like, get this: what if someone opened up a diner, yeah? But get this, it was, like, in the most remote part of the arctic.”

“That’d be dope! What would it be called?”

It could be called something like ‘Dope Diner’ or ‘Sunny Ray Diner’, but none of those had the right ring to them. “Do restaurants even need names?” I asked, aloud, although I was sure my thoughts were somewhere nearby.

“Whoa…” That’s when I knew I got her. “That’s such a good point! Like, you may have just cracked the universe! Lemme write that down!” She got out a notepad and a pen and wrote down ‘restaurants don’t need names’.

“So that’s the best part, right? It wouldn’t have a name! It would look just like any ol’ building, and you’d have to go inside to find out it was a diner!”

“You’re like, such a genius! This has gotta be fate, man! Total universe in sync!”

I couldn’t just keep that idea an idea anymore. It was too good.

“If we’re gonna do this, we should figure out where we’d put it, yeah?” I proposed.

“I’m kinda partial to Alaska, myself,” Sunny suggested.

“Nah, not remote enough. Gotta be somewhere like Siberia. Maybe Greenland. But the less green parts.”

“But green’s the best part!” Sunny started to cry.

“All right, all right. Settle down. Maybe some green.”

I started to cry as well. “I mean, who could imagine a world without green?”

We looked at each other, the backs of our heads covered in dirt, then, we both closed our eyes and smiled.

“I think the high’s wearing down…” I told her.

“Yeah, same here,” she agreed.

My legs felt like they were folding into each other.

“Are you also turning into a mermaid?” I asked in earnest.

“It’s all a part of the process.”

Somehow, as if there weren’t enough improbable things that day, we managed to stay out all night, asleep in the grass. When we woke up, it was early morning and we were ready to say our goodbyes with groggy voices. The same grogginess that carried into present day with me in the hospital.

“See ya around,” I waved to her.

“Oh, uh,” she got out her notebook and pen. She looked about as dizzy as I felt. Guess it couldn’t be helped.

After she wrote down her address, she tore the sheet of paper and handed it to me. “I figure since we’re married now, you ought to know where to find me.”

I nodded. “Good point. Shit. I forgot about that.”

“Oh really?” Her lips curled upward into a sly grin. “How about this, then? I bet you a dollar we’ll be divorced by tomorrow.”

Ah, we had just met and she knew me so well.

“You’re on. But just to up the ante, I bet you two dollars we’ll last two days.”

After a while of upping the ante, it somehow came to the agreement that whoever broke up with the other would have to forfeit money proportional to the amount of days we lasted. So it went, and somehow, we’ve kept it going for well over twenty-five years. Which was to say, the betting pool sure was huge.

So that was how the two of us met. More or less. I may have still embellished a few details. Give or take a few anachronistic details.

“Oh, and remember how we didn’t have our first date until a month into our marriage?” She continued to reminisce.

“Mm-hmm,” and again, how could I forget?

“It was one of those five star restaurants that only celebrities and people with reservations could get into, but you got in, and not only that, we didn’t have to pay for our meal. I remember asking you how it was possible, and you said, and I quote, ‘the manager owes me a favor’.”

I smiled, even through a sigh. “If anything, I’d say the way we met just proves how ridiculous life is.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “But I’d say that’s what makes it worth it.”

“Mm…” I gave it some thought. “Still, if I were to die, I’d say I’ve lived a good, long life.”

“Oh, quit it, you rascal,” she patted me over the back, though with her strength, it felt more like a slap. “You’re not that old! We’re both only 46!”

“I think...you’re right. Oh, you aren’t called Sunny for no reason.”

She snapped her fingers. “Besides, how will I know what schemes you’ll come up with next if you’re dead? The suspense would kill me!”

“Actually,” I thought it over. “I prefer living with no regrets, and, well...if I’m going to keep going, I’d like to be able to talk to my daughter again.”

“Oh...uh...right. Our daughter,” I noticed Sunny look away and out the window. “Man, I really wish we could be doing some heist stuff right now. Parenting was never my strong suit.”

“Nor was it mine,” I told her. “But even still, I care about her, and I wish we’d talk to her.”

“But what would we say? And hasn’t it been, like, what? Six years or something? We’re probably way late on that, and she probably hates us for not saying anything for so long. I don’t think there’s anything we could say to fix that.”

“She has that right. I just want to take a gamble on trying, all the same.”

“Very well. Are you sure you can hold your phone in your current state, though?” She asked, and I found myself drifting off to sleep once more with the words spilling from my mouth, “I’m not ambidextrous for no reason.”

When I woke up once more, I checked the clock to see that a few hours had passed. Sunny was no longer in the room, but my phone lay at my lap. Before I could reach over to hold the phone and dial Violette’s number, the door opened up and Dr. Cole-Slaw appeared once more in her signature scrubs.

“So, have you made a decision?” She asked. Right to the point.

“Yeah...I think I’ll go out on a limb, if you know what I mean.”

She groaned. “That’s such a terrible joke, but it’s at least better than you being miserable, so I’ll take it.”

“You’re the best, coleslaw,” I took the time to remind her.

“Repeat after me: D-R. Doctor.”

“Doctor.”

“Good. Now let’s see if you’ll be calling me the best after you wake up and find yourself missing an arm.”

“Oh, before we start the surgery, can I make a phone call?” I remembered what I wanted to do.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t you? It’s going to be a bit before we get everything ready. I don’t think the infection’s gonna spread past your arm in the next couple hours. You should be fine. But if not, yell as loud as you can, and maybe I’ll hear you.”

Ah, how was I so blessed to know such people as Shirley Cole-Slaw and Sunny Reyes/Sunshine? Oh. Right. Sunshine. Rays. I forgot why I had my phone in the first place. I dialed Violette’s number and let it ring.

After a few rings, no answer. Default voicemail message. I decided not to leave a message. But, Violette called back right as I was about to set my phone down.

“Ray, do you even know what time it is?” She sounded mad, like I just woke her up. Maybe I did.

“Not really. Time stopped having any meaning to me ever since I showed up at the hospital,” I replied.

“Oh my god! Are you all right?!”

“Yeah. I’ll live. I’m just getting my arm chopped off. Though I thought about letting it get worse and dying, but, what’ll you do, am I right?”

“That does NOT sound all right! I thought your bodyguard was supposed to protect you!”

Huh? Bodyguard? Did she just assume I had one of those? Though when I thought about it, I had a good idea what was going on.

“Ah, right. My bodyguard. Well, shit happens, y’know? Nobody’s perfect, not even bodyguards.”

“Still, you need to be more careful. Damn near gave me a heart attack, and it’s still early in the morning.”

“Oh yeah. How are you doing? Met anyone new?”

“Really? You called just for that? I thought you’d call over something more important.”

“I did, but who says I can’t check in with you?”

“Ugh. Well, there’s nothing to say. I’m better off staying at home and taking care of Elodie.”

“You haven’t tried at all?”

“Not since I got duped by your bodyguard.”

Right. I was definitely going to have a talk with my “bodyguard” about that.

“Well, keep your chin up.”

“Okay, but is that all you called about?”

“I also wanted to see if I could talk to Elodie for a bit,” I admitted. My heart started to race as the two options, whether I spoke with her or not, both gave me equal measure excitement and anxiousness. “Think I could do that?”

“Yes. Er. No. Maybe. I don’t think she’d like that.” Sunny was right. So it seemed. Even still, I  But maybe...er...I could try. Hold on.”

I heard her get up and open Elodie’s door. Though she held her hand in front of the phone, I could still hear her say, “hey Elodie, it’s your dad. Wanna talk to him?”

I couldn’t make out what Elodie said, but I was ready to accept whatever outcome I was given.

“Hello?” Came a hoarse, but still sweet voice. To my surprise, I recognized it as her. Even six years later, I was able to tell what she sounded like.

“Hey...kind of unexpected, huh?” I answered.

“Yeah.”

“To be honest, I wanted to say something for a while, but I could never figure out what, and it felt like whatever I could have said wouldn’t have been good enough to make up for the pain I thought I caused you. But the longer it went, the more I felt like it was too late, and it became a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“Yeah? So now you decided to try? You didn’t even bother to send me a birthday card.”

I deserved that. I expected it, and she was right to be upset. Angry, even.

“You’re right. I’ll send you one on your next birthday. And I’ll send you six more to make up for the other birthdays I’ve missed.”

“That’s not going to mean anything! You still missed them!”

“Again, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“...Still, even just like this. I guess it’s better than nothing,” she grumbled. “So thanks.”

“If you want, I can call more often. I want to say I’d visit you in the future, too, but we’ll see. One day, it would be nice if you could visit up here as well, but it hasn’t been very safe lately…”

“Maybe. But I don’t know.”

“Well, even like this. It’s a start.”

“Yeah,” she may have said to agree, or just to get me off her back.

“I’m going to go to sleep now, but take care, dear.”

“Bye.”

I ended the call, then allowed myself to drift off once more.

When I came to, I noticed bandages on my right side.

“Well, looks like it was a job well done.”

Right on cue, Dr. Shir...Cole-Slaw came in.

“Everything came back good, infection’s gone. Still, there could have been complications from all sorts of things along the way…” She trailed off, to allow herself the element of suspense.

“...But there wasn’t. You’re all good,” she finished. “Oh. But I’d stay here for the next few days, if I were you. To put it lightly, you’re gonna be in ‘hella’ pain.”

“Gotcha.” It would be fine, then. I’d just appoint Tigershark as temporary manager of the restaurant. No biggie. As soon as Sunny showed up again to check on me, I intended to tell her just that.

“Oh yeah, and might I recommend physical therapy? Considering you may be a little off balance?”

“Sure thing.” I tilted my head up. That anesthesia must’ve been some good stuff. I didn’t even remember being pulled into the surgical room.

Maybe I could think of the hospital like a little vacation resort. Or a hotel. One where the food was subpar, but I was sure I’d adjust. Now, for the other matter…

As soon as Dr. Cole-Slaw left, I noticed another presence in the corner of the room. I closed my eyes.

“You already saw me, no use pretending you didn’t,” she spoke up. Ah, all right. Fine. I leaned up and opened my eyes back up. Remora sat there with one leg over the other and with a face of total disinterest.

“How long have you been here?” I asked.

I noticed her examine her nails as she sat.

“Hm? Oh. Not too long ago. The doc let me in. All I had to say was that I was a close, personal, family friend.”

“And she bought it?” I managed a chuckle.

“No. But a little bit of cash goes a long way.”

“So you bribed her?”

“No.”

“Then how’d you get in?” I asked, but then decided it wasn’t important. I guess a little like me, she’d continue to come up with a different reason, none of which being the truth. But if I had to wager, the first one was probably closest to the truth. “Oh, never mind that.”

“Good to see you’ve recovered,” she observed. “Though you should be more honest. I can’t believe you never told Sunny.”

“I could say the same about you,” I recalled what Violette had told me.

“I’m honest most of the time, unless the situation calls for it,” I could already tell she didn’t like where I was going.

“I already know you went over to see my sister-in-law.”

Remora looked stunned. As if “how? I thought I covered all my tracks.”

“I did it to get information on you,” she growled.

“Oh, Remora, Remora...you could have asked me anything. I had nothing to hide. Even if you felt the need to dig up dirt, couldn’t you have done it without hurting someone who had nothing to do with me?”

“For the record,” oh yeah. On the defense now. “It proved fruitless. The only thing she could tell me is that she thought you had a savior complex.”

Now that was a hoot. A whole riot. I began to wheeze.

“Oh? Do I go around telling Mr. Highwayman to stop robbing people?” “I know, right? I thought it was ridiculous, too!”

I shook my head and smiled. “But that’s beside the point. Do you really think she deserved that? She’s a good woman. A little naive, yes, but many people are. At least from my experience.”

“It feels weird being the one to be lectured. Especially coming from you.”

“Everyone’s got issues.”

“Yes. I’m aware. But I’m honest.”

“Mainly when it comes to criticizing others. But really? Bodyguard?”

“It’s not like I’d just tell her ‘yeah, I shot your brother-in-law, and now I’m digging up dirt on him’.

“Ha. I guess not. Even still, you don’t think that was a bit hurtful?”

“Yeah, but –”

“I know you don’t like when others are dishonest with you. Or when others are dishonest with anyone else, for that matter. So why doesn’t the same apply to you?”

“You’re right. I’ll think about it.”

“Other than that, kill whoever you want if you feel that’s what you need to do,” I gave it some thought. I wasn’t going to totally discourage her from her ways, but the complete opposite end also sounded a bit much. “Within reason. I added. No violence in the diner. People are there for a good time and a good meal.”

“I don’t know why you feel like telling me that. But yeah. Okay. Sure. Anything else?”

“Just the golden rule, don’t be a hypocrite. All that.”

“Hmm...about that…yes, but no. I’m going to have to take a raincheck.”

“Oh darn. Here I thought I reached you.”

“I’m going to need to hurt some people. Lie to those same people. It may not make them feel good, and it may not be how I would want to be treated, but that’s beside the point.”

“Why is that?”

“You’ve noticed, haven’t you? The lack of customers in your diner. The sudden blizzards. Mysterious fogs that appear. Creatures being where they shouldn’t. Even stranger creatures appearing, existing, attacking people, killing and laying waste, then disappearing into the night.”

“Oh yeah. Forgot about all that. Well, I’m investigating it. There just hasn’t been any more leads.”

“That’s why. They’re all linked. That I’m sure. I need to figure out why so I can put it all to rest. For that, I need to partake in a bit of trickery. I need you alive. And...I need you to have two functional arms.”

“A little late for that one, missy,” I joked.

“Get a prosthetic one. I’ll wait as long as I need to for you to recover.”

“Aw, I didn’t know you cared.”

“I don’t,” she shot back. “But I have a plan.”

“Care to tell me?” I tested to see if she would at least budge an inch.

“I’ll tell you as much as I need to. You may tell Sunny if you’d like. It would probably be better if you did than you didn’t.”

“I’m all ears,” and maybe it was the anesthesia, maybe it was a ghost memory of some really dank grass, but I really did feel like I was all ears and nothing else.

After she told me, excitement grew, and I couldn’t help but wish for the speediest of recoveries.

[catboythanatos]

so... cecilos. i literally had to stop listening to wtnv last night because i couldnt focus on anything else, i was so emotional, i just want carlos and cecil to reunite so badly. their relationship is one of the most genuine and heartfelt things ever. its so amazing. so i stopped listening and i wrote this completely cathartic thing, i just started writing and didnt stop until it was past 4am. its been a long time since ive just written something with no plan just straight from emotional overload, so it was kinda nice. i like how it turned out.

i’m only up to episode 56 so later canon might contradict something in this but idgaf honestly this is some sweet and heartfelt cecilos from the middle of the night. enjoy

Cecil awakes in the desert. There is sand all around him, warm and course against his skin. He isn't sure how he ended up here, having no memory of coming here, but he's woken up in weirder places in the past. He is used to deserts, but this desert is not his own. He can feel it. Something in the air is completely different here.

He rises, brushing the sand off of himself as best as he can, and has a look at his surroundings. There is just desert, as far as he can see. Sand wastes strewn with sad, tiny shrubs and the strangest cacti he has ever seen. There is also a distant, looming shape -- almost mountain-like in size and appearance, however, it's difficult to say what it could actually be. He decides to start his journey towards that shape, drawn to it for reasons he cannot explain. He treks for quite a long time.

As the mountain-like mass gets closer, he sees that there is a light, blinking high upon it. It is red. Blinking lights are always red. The colour evokes an emotion within him. He recognizes it. He knows where he must be. His toes tingle with excitement underneath his sand-covered shoes. There is someone here he is longing to see.

As he continues moving forward, his steps become rapid, and his breaths become strained. He is running now, defying gravity, floating now, flying at maximum speeds. He watches the vast desert pass beneath him, dry and lifeless.

Before he even knows it, Cecil is floating up to a lighthouse. His feet find their way to solid ground, and it is his heart that starts to float next. Leap, perhaps, would be a better word. He can feel his throat tightening as he meets the eyes of the white-coated man standing before him, blinking in awe and confusion.

“Cecil?”

“Carlos?”

“Cecil!”

Carlos throws himself into Cecil’s arms, laughing a joyous laugh that's riddled with secret tears and longing.

“I missed you,” says Carlos, smiling into Cecil’s chest.

“I missed you, too.” Cecil holds Carlos tightly. “Don't scare me like that. I thought you'd be gone forever. I respect your research, and your acts of valiant heroism, but… I just wanted you to come home, Carlos. I've missed you so much.”

“Gosh, Cecil, I… I’m sorry. I missed you, too, more than you could ever even know. I watched you sometimes. I watched you through the photographs in the lighthouse. I saw you frowning, grimacing, whispering for me in the dead of night. I wanted to tell you that I love you, but I didn't want you to be freaked out over me watching you… It sounds silly now, but…”

“That's okay, I understand. Forget all that, Carlos, just… Shut up and kiss me, please,” Cecil begs, not caring about anything right now. What's past is past, what's now is now. It doesn’t matter how many lonely nights he spent longing anymore, because those days will be over now. Carlos is home! Well, Cecil is trapped in this desert otherworld with him. So neither of them are home home, but they're at home with each other.

Kissing Carlos is home. Running his fingers through Carlos’ thick, wavy hair is home. Carlos’ hands cupping his waist, his hand cupping Carlos’ delicate cheek, is home. Carlos and him, kissing, rolling in the sand, laughing, breathless, giggling, touching, being… Home is Carlos. Cecil cares about nothing else anymore in this moment. He loves Night Vale, but he would honestly leave it all behind if it meant Carlos’ sandy, unwashed hair falling into his face, and the feeling of his back pressed against the gentle roll of a sand dune, and callused hands of a scientist stroking his face, as he’s propped up on one elbow above him, staring down at him, eyes filled with love behind dusty, smudged glasses.

Cecil’s mouth had fallen agape, but his eyes were smiling. Carlos’ eyes smiled, too. His perfect lips grinned. He kissed his boyfriend again, laughing bubbly and brightly. Cecil’s heart tightens, filled to the brim with love and adoration. Carlos’ laugh was perfect. His mouth was perfect, his eyes were perfect, his hair, perfect. All was perfect. Carlos was his yet again. He never wanted this moment to end.

But then, just as soon as it had began, it ends.

Cecil awakens, once again. This time, he is in his own bed. This time, alone.

“Oh,” he says simply. “Oh.”

A small, weak whimper slides past his lips.

“Oh, Carlos,” he whispers, as he often does, helplessly into the still of the night. “Oh, Carlos…”

He stares up at the ceiling above him. He clutches at the pillow beside him, empty, devoid of any luscious presence; of any stray perfect hairs to tickle his neck as he shifts under the covers in the night. He sighs.

He sits up on the edge of the bed. The red light from his phone charging on the bedside table creates the only light in the room. It blinks. For a moment, he knows that Carlos would probably be awake right now, being, of course, in a desert otherworld where time is completely different from here at home, but he doesn't think he would understand. Deep down, Cecil knows that Carlos would understand because Carlos loves him, and misses him, and cares about him deeply, but … everything seems so complicated right now. He could call, text, or email him right now, and possibly get an immediate response, but for some reason, he doesn’t.

“I miss you,” he sighs hopelessly instead, as if there might be someone around to hear. There is no one around to hear.

Cecil flops himself back down on his bed, exhaling, long and dramatic. He tries to return himself to the dull lull of sleep. His heart aches so painfully that it is hard to even imagine that Carlos is alive and well and just a click of a button away.

He quietly watches the blinking light on his phone blink for a while, before it dawns on him that blinking signifies a notification. A solid red light is for charging, and a blinking light means something else is happening. He wants to think that different colours of the blinking lights should signify something, but he knows that that's ridiculous, since blinking lights are always red.

He reaches over and collects his phone from the bedside table, and is surprised, not unpleasantly, to see the notification on the screen. It is a Snapchat from Carlos.

The photo is of the night sky. There are specks of stars, and other strange shapes and lights, all along a backdrop of a dark velvety purple. It's obviously hard to capture something like the sky in just a cell phone camera, but it looks remarkably familiar. The caption reads: “How’s my favourite radio host doing tonight?”

There is a subsequent Snap reading “Is it night there?” And another saying “I don't mean to wake you up or anything, if it is. But the sky reminded me of home, and of you.”

Cecil’s chest tightens. The messages are sweet, but he wants Carlos to be here, with him, right now! He can't take one more minute of this treacherous absence.

He half-heartedly lifts his phone above him to snap a photo, in which he is pouting, barely visible in the darkness, one cheek pressed against the pillow.

He types various iterations of whiny ‘I miss you’s and needy demands before backspacing and starting over from the beginning, chewing his lip in frustration and thought.

“Missing my favourite scientist tonight,” he captions it eventually, hitting send in a haste before he can think too deeply about any of it.

It takes less than a minute for Carlos to reply. He has switched to the inside camera of his phone, where he has a sympathetic, but genuine, sad smile.

“I miss you,” it reads.

Cecil has trouble breathing suddenly. He wants Carlos home. He needs Carlos home. It has been days, maybe even a week, since he has even heard Carlos’ voice, and his heart is screaming with longing. If he is free to send photos, maybe he will be free to call…

Cecil brings the phone up to his ear, and the first ring feels like it lasts a century. But a mere millisecond into the second, Carlos picks up.

“Cecil?”

“Carlos,” Cecil breathes, trembling.

“Cecil? Are you feeling alright?”

“It is so good to hear your voice. I’m-- yes, I'm fine, Carlos, I… I just… miss you. I miss you so, so much.”

“Oh, Cecil,” Carlos sighs a beautiful sigh. “I miss you, too.”

“You need to come home now, Carlos.”

“I understand, Cecil. But you know it's not as simple as that.”

Cecil wants to be mad, he wants to scream, he wants to yell at his beloved Carlos, to come home, come home right this instant, I need you to be home, but… he does know.

“I… I know,” he sighs eventually.

“You know I miss you, too,” says Carlos. His voice is genuine, but it just makes Cecil sad.

“I know,” he mumbles.

“Go look at the stars, Cecil.”

“The stars?”

“The stars. Just pull back your curtain and look at them, just for a moment.”

Cecil rises, and walks over to the bedroom window. He does as Carlos asks. The sky is velvet purple with flickers of stars and other distant shapes and lights. “I… am looking at them now. Is there some kind of special surprise here I’m supposed to see?”

“There's not really a special surprise, no. I’ve not found a way back home just yet. I’ve just been looking at the sky a lot recently, and I wanted to share it with you.”

Come to think if it… The sky in Carlos’ picture did look very similar to the sky here in Night Vale. The sky probably looks similar no matter where you go. It is so vast, and everything else is so tiny, so insignificant.

“No matter where we are in the world, there's always a beautiful sky to look at. And if we do it at the same time… it's almost like we’re together.”

Tears prick the corners of Cecil’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I really do miss home, Cecil. And I miss you. I guess in a way, you are my home.”

“Have you been dreaming of me at all?” Cecil asks suddenly, recalling the powerful sentiment of his dream.

“I… no, why?”

“Oh. I've dreamt of you a lot. I keep dreaming I'll wake up next to you, or that I’m out in your desert, with you… together. But it's not real... None of it is real. You're never going to be home, are you?”

Cecil’s voice is breaking, and Carlos’ heart feels like it's breaking, too. “Oh, Cecil… Cecil. Baby. Don’t say that…”

Cecil softens considerably at the pet name. Carlos has never called him one before. It's gentle. But there are still tears welling in the corners of his eyes, threatening, dangerous, ready to spill down his face at any moment. “It’s--it’s been forever, Carlos.”

“Oh, honey,” Carlos coos again. “Oh, Cecil. I'll be home soon. I promised. A scientist always keeps their promises. I'm sorry if I've been … distant, recently. I'm sorry if I've made you feel left out with my scientific interest in this world. I haven't exactly been trying very hard to get home to you. It’s not that I don't want to come home for you, it's just that it's so very strange here… So very compelling. You understand, right?”

“Not really, no,” Cecil admits finally. “I don't understand. The most compelling thing to me … is you! I just want you here, I just want… you,” he huffs.

Carlos is silent for a long, long moment.

“I didn't realize that was how you felt, Cecil… Gosh, I… I am so sorry. I've been a real jerk.”

“No, Carlos,” Cecil sighs. “You aren't a jerk. I mean, I was kind of mad at you when you called that community more interesting than my community, but you aren't a bad person… Okay, I was really mad. Is that vague, possibly nonexistent desert even really a community? I disagree with that terminology. And I disagree with your opinion on their ‘scientific interest’. But… that's… okay! You didn't mean any of that. You--you always mean well! I just need you to understand how much I miss you, Carlos. I want you here ... with me! And I want you to feel the same way I do.”

“I understand, Cecil. I completely and actually understand this time. Ugh, you just wanted to be together and I brushed you away to gush about some silly science stuff. I am so sorry! I wish I could be home right now. I'm sorry I haven't been looking for doors home. I will seriously get on that tomorrow, seriously. I- I should have been doing that already. God, I’m sorry. I want to be home. I do feel the same way. I've missed… Oh, oh dear... We've spent our anniversary apart, Cecil, haven’t we. How can I make it up to you?”

“It's okay, Carlos. Sometimes we get invested in things, and forget to care about other things. I forgive you.”

“Really?”

Cecil is still mad, but he isn't lying when he says he forgives Carlos. It's not his fault that he's trapped in that other dimension, and he won't be able to be home instantly no matter how hard he is willing to try. He is definitely mad about the anniversary, but he doesn't see any use in bringing that up right now. Carlos truly feels sorry. The feelings of anger will pass. “Yes. I love you.” Cecil bites his lip, hovering delicately over the next set of words. “And … I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry for making you feel guilty about being interested in that other desert. I'm sorry for being jealous. I just want you home. I’m sorry if that’s selfish of me, but... It's been a really long time now and I just… I want to kiss you again. I want to hold you again.”

“I love you, too, Cecil. And it's okay to be jealous. It's okay to be mad. It's okay to be… anything you ever are. I love you no matter what.”

Cecil smiles, wiping up some of his spilling tears with the sleeve of his nightshirt.

“Now, Cecil?” Carlos is saying. His voice is like soft silk, a delicate, private whisper into Cecil’s ear, smooth; seductive; perfect.

“Yes, Carlos?”

“Tell me about your dream. I want to hear what fantastical truths your subconscious makes up about me when I’m not around.”

In another time, in another place, Carlos the scientist is lying down in the cool sand, unwashed sandy hair falling into his face as he stares up at a velvety, purple sky. His one hand rests on his knee, the other clutches dearly to a cell phone at his ear. The desert, vast and all-knowing, spans out wide and far in all directions around him. He pays no mind to this. His full focus and attention is on the smooth baritone voice drawling into his ear. He pictures the images from Cecil’s fantasy with awe, and a vague twinge of melancholy. He smiles, delighted, showing off teeth that are like a military cemetery.

Back home, in the other time and place, Cecil Palmer is yawning. His cheeks are decorated with a deep blush as he rambles embarrassing and personal stories into the distant ear of one that he loves. They talk until the latest hours of the night; until sunlight starts to stream in through the curtains of Cecil's window, too happy and too afraid to let the other hang up.