There had, for a short few days, been less fear. He'd had a tongue, and vocal cords, and he had used them to tell Carlos so many important things, which had been interrupted with kisses, and long moments spent saying nothing at all. He'd felt safe, more or less-- or, safer, anyway. He'd slept, and there had been almost no pain.
It had all gone to hell quickly, when it had gone. First, Carlos had begun speaking strangely, and pointing toy scientific devices at hazards that did not appear to exist. Cecil had left to find help; found nothing; returned to find that Carlos was gone. There was only his blood-splattered labcoat lying in a pile in the middle of the shop floor, and Darwin the roomba, with nothing left to guard, had wandered away.
Cecil had stood for long minutes, overwhelmed with guilt and fear, because he could see well enough what had happened: They'd killed Carlos because of what he'd done for him. They'd killed Carlos to punish him. He'd been waiting for it to happen, for someone watching to realize just how great his transgression had been; and finally, it had happened.
He hadn't taken a weapon with him when he'd left to find Terezi. It had been his next thought, finding her - her, or whoever would kill him on his way to her. Preferably her, but he didn't feel he had the luxury to be picky. It's with mixed relief, and sadness, and fear, that he sees her silhouette at the front of the bookstore.
He doesn't want to use his new voice. It frightens him again, like it did when he first realized he had it - it shouldn't even be his. But, well. He has proven himself the most useless Avox the Capitol has ever seen well enough already; how much deeper can he really dig this pit?
And so he clears his throat as he comes up behind the troll; swallows hard against the roiling anxiety in his stomach at the thought of how directly he is about to address her (of what he is about to address her for); and says, with Punchy's voice, soft but clear: "...Terezi. It's-- Cecil."
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There had, for a short few days, been less fear. He'd had a tongue, and vocal cords, and he had used them to tell Carlos so many important things, which had been interrupted with kisses, and long moments spent saying nothing at all. He'd felt safe, more or less-- or, safer, anyway. He'd slept, and there had been almost no pain.
It had all gone to hell quickly, when it had gone. First, Carlos had begun speaking strangely, and pointing toy scientific devices at hazards that did not appear to exist. Cecil had left to find help; found nothing; returned to find that Carlos was gone. There was only his blood-splattered labcoat lying in a pile in the middle of the shop floor, and Darwin the roomba, with nothing left to guard, had wandered away.
Cecil had stood for long minutes, overwhelmed with guilt and fear, because he could see well enough what had happened: They'd killed Carlos because of what he'd done for him. They'd killed Carlos to punish him. He'd been waiting for it to happen, for someone watching to realize just how great his transgression had been; and finally, it had happened.
He hadn't taken a weapon with him when he'd left to find Terezi. It had been his next thought, finding her - her, or whoever would kill him on his way to her. Preferably her, but he didn't feel he had the luxury to be picky. It's with mixed relief, and sadness, and fear, that he sees her silhouette at the front of the bookstore.
He doesn't want to use his new voice. It frightens him again, like it did when he first realized he had it - it shouldn't even be his. But, well. He has proven himself the most useless Avox the Capitol has ever seen well enough already; how much deeper can he really dig this pit?
And so he clears his throat as he comes up behind the troll; swallows hard against the roiling anxiety in his stomach at the thought of how directly he is about to address her (of what he is about to address her for); and says, with Punchy's voice, soft but clear: "...Terezi. It's-- Cecil."