Broken (Cecilos - Welcome to Night Vale)

Confusion

***

Wow. I'm SO SORRY.

That was way longer of a hiatus than I intended to take. It's easy to forget about things like Wattpad, right?

Not Night Vale, of course. Night Vale is still hugely important to me.

I just didn't have motivation to update.

Well, I'm back and hopefully here to stay. Enjoy this long overdue update :)

***

Carlos expected to be more upset about the situation.

Shouldn't he be screaming? Crying? Beating his fists against the ground and shouting until his lungs gave out?

Carlos expected to feel something. Anything.

Instead, he stood beside his parents' empty bed, totally numb. There was no denial. No terror. No crushing depression.

Only dull acceptance.

He knew, deep in the pit of his heart, that his parents were gone. He knew for a fact he wasn't dreaming, and that the shadow creature hadn't been an illusion.

The bed his parents usually occupied wasn't even disturbed. It was completely made, not a single wrinkle to be found. Everything was perfectly, unnaturally, in its place.

Except for the picture on the bedside table.

It was a photo of Carlos on his first Communion, standing beside a couple of relatives. His mother treasured it.

The picture was on the floor, smashed into a pile of glass shards and wooden splinters. The actual photograph was stained with shockingly red blood.

Carlos stared at it.

And still, he felt nothing.

***

He didn't even jump when Cecil placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Carlos...." he whispered, his voice cracked with emotion.

"I'm so sorry..."

Carlos turned to face his boyfriend, his brown eyes glassy and unfocused.

"It's okay, Cecil... it's not your fault..." The words slid from his mouth. They felt wrong. Robotic and monotone...

Cecil's hands fisted into the hem of Carlos' borrowed t-shirt. His pale cheeks flushed a dark, ruddy color, and his eyes filled with moisture.

"Yes, Carlos... It is my fault. I'm a freak! The freak with the family of abusive freaks who dreams about demons! It's my fault your parents are gone. That thing..."

He looked down at his bare feet, eyes filled with pain.

"That thing stalks me. It followed me here, and it's left an obvious message..."

He took in a deep, shuddering breath.bCarlos wanted to comfort him, but was afraid that in doing so, he would break down.

Cecil looked lost.

Completely and utterly lost.

He stood in the center of the bedroom, in a pair of pajamas far too large for him, his blonde hair messy and his glasses askew. A purple bruise had blossomed along his throat, and black scratches now swirled along the length of one of his arms. Tears spilled down his face, and he was rocking in place.

"Oh god, Carlos... I'm so sorry... I've ruined everything. I've dumped all my shitty problems onto you, and I'm sorry-"

Carlos grabbed Cecil, drawing him as close as was physically possible. The boy he had barely even acknowledged weeks before was now pressed against him in a painfully tight embrace. They stood there in heavy silence, simply holding each other.