The sun may have taken an unreasonable amount of time to set in the sky, but once it did it left the land punishingly cold. They walked until they had stumbled a few too many times and their feet wouldn't take them another step. Kevin had been chipper the rest of the day, even though Carlos knew he must be exhausted and this wasn't even a trip he'd wanted to take in the first place.

It went against everything Carlos had ever learned about traveling in the desert to stop now, while the sun wasn't beating down on them, but they hadn't been able to afford to rest during the heat of the day like would have been wise and they could not physically go on. They gave in and Carlos started a little fire before rifling through his pack. "Do we want canned vegetarian chili or apple cinnamon oatmeal?"

"Uh. The chili." Kevin unfolded a blanket and laid it out for them to sit on. "Are you vegetarian? I thought you ate meat."

"I do sometimes when I'm on my own, but at home it's easier to just eat vegetarian, 'cause Cecil does. And this is Cecil's pack."

"That's sweet of you, to eat like that for Cecil."

He shrugged. "Like I said, it's just logical. Means we don't have to cook two different meals."

"Still."

They held their cans of chili over the fire until they were warm and then settled on the blanket, wrapping a second one around their shoulders. "We should drink this bottle of wine tonight," Kevin said. "That'll help warm us up."

Carlos glanced over at it, peeking out of the top of Kevin's backpack, and nodded. "I feel bad. I can't believe I forgot to give it to the Carlsbergs. I just walked straight out with it still in my hand."

"I think the walking straight out without actually having dinner with them part was probably rude enough to overshadow that."

A laugh bubbled from Carlos' chest, and he shoved at Kevin's shoulder. "Thanks."

Since they didn't actually have a corkscrew, it took a good, frustrating ten minutes, Kevin's nails, and a skewer from Cecil's scoutmaster pack, but eventually they got it open. "Oh my God, that was it," Carlos declared, flopping back onto the blanket. "That took the last of my energy. There's none left. Hope it's worth it."

"It's kind of like old times, huh?" Kevin hummed, surveying their little set-up. "Real old times, before we had houses and stuff."

"Kind of," he granted.

"Sit up and drink with me, you knocked the blanket off."

The wine did make him warmer. And his head a little looser. He'd always been something of a lightweight. Once the chili was gone and the bottle was about three quarters empty, he let out a long sigh.

"Cecil didn't know about the time thing."

"What?"

He poked dejectedly at the fire with the skewer. "He didn't know that time works differently in this desert. And I bet Diego didn't tell him. How did Diego know about it anyway?"

"I don't know," Kevin said.

"He's just been there, waiting and not knowing why I haven't shown up. Diego said he gave up on me. He also said he didn't know who I was, which is nonsense, but the first part sounds reasonable. He didn't know, because I didn't tell him. Because… I was ashamed."

"I was hoping the wine would help you relax, not make you sad."

"I should've told him." Carlos jabbed at a piece of kindling hard, sending up a flurry of sparks. Well, technically, years ago he had told him that time was slowing down in Night Vale; that was actually one of the first things he ever said to Cecil. But Cecil didn't seem to take it seriously then, and either way it was still quite a leap to expect him to make from there to conclude that time in the desert otherworld specifically was much faster. "I was ashamed of how long I stayed in this desert without him, doing research that ultimately went nowhere and making justifications and figuring my shit out, so long, and I couldn't tell him. But he deserved to know. And now…"

Kevin nudged his shoulder with his own. "As soon as you show up, I'm sure it'll all be okay." The flames crackled and Carlos couldn't tear his gaze away. "Hey, I know a little something about shame myself," Kevin offered after a stretch of quiet.

Carlos shook his head. "But you… Before you'd even go into the Carlsbergs' home, you made a point of apologizing and waiting for them to make their own call. Steve accused you of hurting the town and you looked him in the eyes and owned up to it, even though… even though it wasn't really your fault, even though Strex did so much more damage in your own town. You don't hide it, or deny it."

"Only because I can't hide it. Every single person in Night Vale knows a lot of what I did, and people from Desert Bluffs know even more. Granted, a lot of them are more understanding, but a lot of them were more deeply affected, too. If I could hide it, believe me, I would." There was a harrowed look on Kevin's face, the flames dancing in his dark eyes. Now Carlos had gotten him all grim, too. Maybe the alcohol had been a bad idea.

"I don't know how you do it," he said with all the respect he felt.

"I stole from them."

Carlos blinked. "What?"

"Yeah." Kevin nodded, a smirk forming on his face and brightening his features. "I stole from them, even when I was working for them, like part of me knew they deserved it. Not money, but just little stuff here and there. Files, keys. I swiped a bottle of pills from their lab, and I've kept it ever since. No idea what they do, but I'm guessing it's nothing good. I told myself once I got out that if I ever meet a person from Strex again, I'm gonna force them down their throat somehow and just see what happens." His grip was tight on the wine bottle, bloodlust sparking in his gaze as he stared into the campfire. Carlos hadn't seen that look in his eyes in a while. He mused how anticlimactic it would be if it turned out he'd pinched a bottle of aspirin.

"What?" Kevin demanded, turning his gaze on him. He must have chuckled out loud instead of in his head like he meant to.

"Nothing," he evaded with a shrug. No need to crush all his dreams of revenge. "I was gonna say something sappy, like I'm proud of you. Granted, this isn't based on the last thirty seconds."

Kevin laughed, warming Carlos' chest. "Hey, let's pretend that the wine made you feel better instead of worse, and then maybe it'll be true."

"Worth a shot."

That wasn't really how things worked, but that was fine. Carlos didn't want to be cheerful right now. They finished off the wine and put out the fire, then laid out their bedrolls for the night. They could only afford to sleep for a short while, since he wanted to be walking again as soon as possible. Every moment they were out here was—who knows how long for Cecil.

Kevin was sleepy and still a little tipsy; his words had started running together near the end of the bottle. It was so dark Carlos couldn't really make him out, but he could hear his quiet breathing as they lay side by side.

"You seem different, Carlos," Kevin said, his voice warm with sleep.

"Right now?"

"Different than when we were here before."

Carlos closed his eyes. "I should hope so."

"Why?"

"Because…" The darkness cocooned them like a protective blanket, and somehow made it easier to speak unspeakable things into the space between them, like two young boys on a camping trip who were just figuring out what it could mean to have a friend. "I didn't really like who I became out here."

There was a soft rustling next to him. "I did." Carlos gave him a look he probably couldn't see, but he must have felt it, because he continued, "No, I know, but really. You were brilliant, kind. Passionate. Pretty obviously conflicted about some things, but that was understandable. And I'm pretty sure you were just as screwy when you got here."

He smiled quietly in the dark, thinking maybe he'd end up feeling a little better after all. It was easy to forget when Kevin was being aggravating that he did really, truly know Carlos. Better than most anyone. "And now?"

"You're stressed and snippy a lot of the time, again understandable. But you seem… more like who you thought you were supposed to be, I guess. Like you finally know you're fighting for the right things."

Carlos didn't know what to say to that. Tipsy Kevin was apparently quietly profound.

"I wonder who I was supposed to be," Kevin said, and the slur was stronger in his words now. He must be close to drifting off. "Like, originally. I guess I'm never gonna know."

He wondered what that would be like, to live with such a big piece of yourself just gone. Cecil had to deal with that too, if in a less extreme and traumatic way. "I think," he said, "that you were always meant to like wine. And...cats. And storytelling."

Kevin hummed, amused. "Are you sure you wanna get married?" His voice sounded like it was mostly stuffed into the blanket.

Carlos snorted softly. "You would make a terrible best man."

He giggled. "Don't get married, Carlos."

"You don't mean that." That was apparent from everything he'd just said.

A long, deep exhalation came from the other bedroll. "No, I don't."

"Go to sleep, Kevin." Carlos rolled onto his back, staring up at the stars. Way out here in the middle of nowhere, it seemed like there should be more of them.

"Okay."


The door to his bedroom was already unlocked when Cecil got up the next morning, which meant that Diego was awake. He went to the kitchen to find him eating a bowl of cereal at the bar.

"I have the day off," he announced once he noticed Cecil.

Oh. Cecil mentally recalibrated his expectations for the day and grabbed himself a bowl.

"I was glad to hear you talking again last night," Diego continued after a moment. "I know I yelled at you right after, and I don't want that to discourage you from… continuing to talk."

If he squinted, it was almost an apology. He tried to come up with some piece of what happened last night that he could talk about without immediately wanting to gouge his own eyes out. He pulled the milk from the fridge and poured himself a bowl of cereal.

"That audio equipment in your office," he decided on. "I'm guessing that's Kevin's?"

For a moment Diego seemed torn between relief that Cecil was talking to him and his usual hesitance to discuss Kevin, but apparently the former won out. "Yeah. He'd make a lot of the pre-recorded stuff in there, sponsored ads and things like that that he didn't absolutely have to be in the station to do."

"Huh." He chewed his spoonful of Cheerios thoughtfully. Regular, non-honey, non-nut Cheerios. "So you just haven't had community radio this whole time? They haven't replaced him?"

Diego shook his head. "No, they haven't replaced him."

He wondered if they'd replaced him back home. It was an idle thought, though, and he mused to himself that if the person he had been a few weeks ago had been there to hear it he probably would've been appalled at how little thought he gave it. That, more than anything, made him put down his spoon with a frown.

When he looked up again, Diego was staring back. He'd stopped eating, too. "What?" Cecil asked flatly.

Diego blinked. "I—" He cut himself off and bit his lip, as if struggling with whether or not to let something out. Cecil just waited and eventually he continued, taking a deep breath. "I've been thinking. I know why you're not happy here, why you can't be happy here."

"Oh, is that so?" Cecil drawled. This should be interesting. "Alright, I'll bite. Why can't I be happy here?"

"It's because you keep thinking about what you think you've lost. You look at me, and you think of Carlos."

It was a simpler answer than he'd been expecting, but Cecil realized it wasn't entirely accurate. He couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at Diego and thought of Carlos. "No, I don't," he insisted, although he wasn't entirely sure why he wanted Diego to know that.

"It's okay," Diego assured him. "I understand."

"Do you?" Cecil wondered. "Do you look at me and think of Kevin?"

He half expected to be met with another venomous assertion that he was nothing like Kevin, but Diego just shrugged. "Sometimes. Until you open your mouth."

Cecil chuckled. "So you must have been thinking of him a lot these days. No wonder you wanted to get me talking again."

"That's not the main reason," he said with a smile. Cecil shifted restlessly on his barstool. Diego didn't smile all that often, so when he did it was kind of a little victory. A thrilling but unnerving victory that Cecil didn't even realize he was aiming for until it happened. "Anyway, I'm not trying to debate whether you're still thinking about Carlos or not. I'm trying to propose a solution."

Well, that sounded dubious. "You've got a solution to me thinking about what I've lost?"

"I do," Diego said confidently. "A way to start fresh. To forget the pain of Carlos' betrayal and be content where you are in the present moment."

"O-kay…" Cecil narrowed his eyes in an attempt to look skeptical instead of terrified. "You're starting to sound like you're trying to get me to join a pyramid scheme, and I'll just let you know now, I've already learned my lesson with those."

"No scheme, though I have been a little bit anxious about bringing it up, 'cause I'm not sure how it will be received." Diego laughed a little, and it was a distinctly nervous sound. "You see, it's a pill. You take it, and it'll help you move on."

"A pill," Cecil repeated.

He nodded. "You'll forget those things that hurt you and be able to focus on right now. And don't worry, it shouldn't leave you confused or scared about what you're missing."

Cecil stared. "Okay, now I'm worried that you're actually serious, and also concerned about how you know the exact effects of this pill."

"I've done my research," Diego said, sliding off his stool. "And I am very serious." He vanished into his office for a moment before returning with a small, unmarked pill bottle.

"Oh, my God, you're serious." He slid off his own stool and pointed at the offending object in Diego's hand. "That, that thing, that's gonna do what, exactly?"

"Make you forget. But just episodic memories, you wouldn't lose your sense of self or your abilities. Episodic memories, meaning like, events that have happened to you—"

"I know what episodic memory is; I like science."

"Well, that's what it would do."

"Wh-why, why would I want to do that?" He couldn't take his eyes off the little bottle. Had that just been in Diego's office this whole time? All these weeks?

"I just think it would make things a lot easier on you," Diego said. Cecil tried to gauge his body language. He seemed a little tense, his knuckles tight on the bottle, and maybe he really was nervous about bringing up this whole topic.

"Wait a minute." Cecil crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, so if I forget about Carlos, then you can have him to yourself, is that it? Kind of seems like a strange workaround, but alright. I mean, you could just kill me, unless you think Carlos wouldn't forgive you for that. But you know what? I kinda think he might not forgive you for this whole thing anyway."

The furrow between Diego's brow was getting more pronounced the longer Cecil talked. "Hold on, you think I want Carlos? Why would I want to be with Carlos?"

"But—those letters in your office."

The confusion melted away. "Ah." He grimaced. "Cecil, I didn't write those."

Cecil dared to feel tentatively relieved. "You didn't?"

He shook his head. "Kevin did."

Kevin? "To you?" Cecil took a shot, though he thought he could guess the answer.

The furrow was back. "No, to Carlos. He's in love with the guy." Diego's tone was acrid.

Kevin wrote the letters. Kevin was in love with Carlos. Cecil sat back down on his stool, feeling a bit like a glass perched on the very edge of a counter. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

Carlos had never said anything. Maybe he'd just been trying to spare Kevin's feelings by not spreading it around. "Does Carlos know?"

"Well, I thought you knew Carlos a little better than I do, but I would think so."

It felt like he'd been handed the rest of the pieces of the puzzle, if he could only get his head on straight long enough to fit them together. "But why would you have letters written by your boyfriend to another man pinned up in your office?" He remembered the recording equipment. "Or is it actually Kevin's office?"

"It's my office. I put them there…" He shifted uncomfortably, and Cecil got the feeling that he was talking about this despite his better judgement, maybe because for the first time he actually wanted something from Cecil. "As a reminder. For when I'm weak, and want to take Kevin back. It's to remind me that he doesn't really love me, and never will. Seeing them helps strengthen my resolve."

"When did he write the letters? Is there a chance he doesn't still feel that way?"

He shook his head. "If you'd read them you'd understand."

Cecil dropped his eyes to the countertop. There was still a bowl of cereal there. He'd completely forgotten about it. "So is that when you started sleeping in your office? When you found those?"

"Yes," Diego said flatly. "Now can we get back to the matter at hand? This pill. Is it something you'd be interested in?"

It seemed odd that he'd be asking him about this, when he'd never consulted him on any other important matters, like say, locking him in the bathroom every day or being here in general. Maybe he was trying to break his spirit. He was looking at Cecil like he genuinely thought this would be a help to him.

Cecil actually took a moment to consider it. It wouldn't be the first time he'd lost a significant chunk of memory. What if those times were voluntary too? What if Cecil's mind was just predisposed to be unable to handle a certain amount of pain, and he just did things like this to survive?

He thought of Carlos, who'd told him everything was going to be okay. Carlos, who knew where he was and still hadn't shown. Carlos who was either dead or off somewhere with Kevin, who was in love with him. He squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn't Carlos' fault Kevin was in love with him. Who wouldn't be? He trusted Carlos to be faithful to him, but he realized that he'd lost all faith that he'd ever actually show up here, that anything would ever change. Things in this house simply didn't change. Ever. And maybe there was nothing even Carlos could do about that.

He thought of his friends, his family, Khoshekh. Of Janice. Janice, his little basketball all-star. Janice who didn't like hugs and was so, so smart.

"No." His throat burned and his eyes stung and he realized that for the first time since he'd been here, he was crying. The next breath he took came out all hiccupy and gaspy, and oh God, he wasn't going to be able to stop. "No, I don't want it."

"Hey." Cecil's eyes were still screwed shut, so he heard rather than saw Diego round the counter. "Hey, it's okay." He wrapped Cecil up in his arms where he sat and Cecil buried his face in his shirt, the sobs that had been building up and being shoved down for weeks pushing themselves out so forcefully he was afraid they might just crack his chest. Diego was not any of the people Cecil would have chosen to be hugging him right now, but he was here. He squeezed Cecil close and pressed his cheek to the top of his head. "Let me know if you ever change your mind," he murmured, his breath warm against Cecil's hair.