Work Text:
Kevin stood at Lauren’s side, looming over the citizens of Nightvale forced to work within the confines of electrified volleyball nets with only the faint comfort of mediocre cupcakes to keep the strongest of them from succumbing to the tedium of paperwork. The entirety of the town was gathered in mission grove park by Strexcorp, including the town’s rebellious community radio host, Cecil Palmer. Said radio host was staring intently at his double, trying to see if they shared any similarities aside from their shared profession.
This preoccupation is what made it a surprise when all the nearby radios burst to life with a hum of static. A small group split off to make sure the Voice of Nightvale hadn’t managed to grab any broadcasting equipment before his facsimile of a barricade was burst through by Strex employees and managed to sneak it in to be used by his fellow citizens.
That idea was proven wrong when the voice of young women broke through the static and claimed to be in Desert Bluffs. It was an unknown voice to all but two and those two had very different reactions to hearing it. Lauren’s malicious grin somehow managed to change into a snarl despite her lips staying frozen in a too-wide smile as her eyes drifted from the Nightvale citizens to her deliriously happy co-host. To say Kevin stopped smiling would be incorrect. His lips were still pulled painfully into a grin, showing all of his broken teeth, but his heart was lighty less in it. The delirium was slightly less visible in his pitch black eyes. Rather, eyes that had once been pitch black but had now taken on a slightly golden tinge. He had turned slightly towards the speaker, head tilted slightly as he listened carefully.
“Hey, Kevikins. Do you know if you're going to be back at the station soon? There’s been a bit of an accident.”
The nickname given to the terrifying radio host caused snickers to break out in the slightly-less scared Nightvaleans.
It was when the voice gasped and gave a pain-filled whimper that produced the most change in the Voice of Desert Bluffs. The hollow darkness in his eyes was almost completely replaced by a golden glow and previously unseen golden tattoos writhed across his skin, “Are you okay, love? That sounded like you’re hurt.”
When Cecil used his Voice it felt heavy, like eternity and the void were working their way into any listeners’ ears. Kevin’s was light and airy. It was ethereal like sunlight and the breeze that shifted sand around the desert: constant, sometimes gentle but always willing to blind.
This was The Voice of Desert Bluffs and His intern was hurt, “I’m on my way.”
A shock of electricity ran through him from the loop of metal around his throat as he reached for his powers, cutting him off. He turned to Lauren, eyes wild, “Just what do you think you are doing, Lauren Mallard.”
“You’re still on the clock, Kev. You’re not leaving Nightvale.”
A golden blur slapped the remote out of her hand and sent Lauren flying in one movement, “Watch me.”
The blinding light and strong wind that embraced Kevin as he pulled himself through reality to his radio station also blew over the Strexcorp employees and the electrified volleyball nets. The Nightvale citizens, far more used to the eldritch behaviour of community radio hosts, had grabbed handholds in preparation for something weird to happen and took advantage of the distraction to revolt against Strexcorp.
In the Desert Bluffs Community Radio station, Kevin held his injured intern gently as he wrapped her wounds. Vanessa stared fondly into the Voice’s golden eyes, “I missed you, boss.”
“I missed me too, Ness.”
The two looked around at the viscera covered walls. They had been covered in blood before but it had been in the form of patterns painted by Kevin’s hands, standing out against the yellow wallpaper.
“It’s going to need some work,” Vanessa started.
Kevin finished, “So am I.” He laughed dejectedly.
“I was going to say we’ll do it together.”