Fic: Last Known Address, Part 3
May. 27th, 2008 01:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
girlpireTitle: Last Known Address (Part Three)
Author: girlpire
Rating: FRM
Pairing: Primarily Angel/Spike
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" and "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please do not archive this story anywhere.
Summary: He doesn't think about what it means that two weeks after his last friend died, he headed off to find the old bastard. Maybe it doesn't mean anything. Just something to do.
Author's Notes: This is the third part of a story that was written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spring_spangel 2008. The first part is [here].
Author's Notes 2: This story is set about seventy years post-NFA, but disregards both the AtS and BtVS comics - meaning that the whole Rome thing in TGiQ is canon. Because that is how I occasionally roll. Also, dialogue in italics means that it is spoken in a language other than English. You should be able to tell from the context what language the characters are speaking (probably either Khmer or French).
Author's Notes 3: For reasons beyond my control, this chapter is shorter than originally planned. It's about 1/3 of what I was intending to post today, but since the last third isn't finished yet, and I can't post the second third without the third third, I'm just posting the first third. If that made any sense. However! I'm hoping to finish the last two thirds this weekend sometime, and I'll be posting chapter 3.5 next week (hopefully). On the plus side, new banner! :)
*
Last Known Address
Part Three
*
Angel lay on his bed in a pair of black boxer shorts, the little tape recorder resting flat against his chest. He had a finger on the record button but hadn't pushed it in yet. It had been almost two months since he'd recorded anything, so it was hard to decide where to start. Nothing especially significant had happened over the last several weeks, but all the little things felt like too much to talk about at one time, which was probably why he'd put off recording for so long. He'd thought about just forgetting the whole thing - it's not like he had some kind of obligation to the little recorder - but he'd left it sitting on his windowsill for so long that simply putting it away felt wrong somehow, and ignoring it while it sat there felt even wronger. He almost felt as though he'd been recording a story for some future audience to listen to, and it would be a shame to abandon it partway through.
He shifted a little as he thought about where to start, and the waistband of the boxers slid loosely around his hips. The shorts were becoming a bit too big for him. He'd lost more weight in the past weeks than he ever had since he'd become a vampire, including the couple of decades he spent living off alley rats. He wasn't starving himself on purpose; it was just that sometimes he couldn't be bothered to feed, and so he forgot to. Even when he did feed, he didn't take very much. He only had two animals to alternate between, and he didn't want to take enough to hurt them. He was always a little bit hungry, but then, so was everyone else in the village.
The sheet on his bed was sticking to his lower back with sweat. He was so used to sweating by now that he barely even noticed it anymore; the heat was just a part of living here. In fact, if he gave it any thought, he would probably say that he kind of liked it. It was nice to be warm all the time.
After a few minutes of deciding what to say, Angel finally pressed the record button.
"Marie says the kids are doing well in school," he started quietly, looking up toward the ceiling, one arm folded behind his head while his other hand rested on the small recorder on his chest, "even though Sann doesn't talk. Devi always answers for him. I think they're the two youngest kids in the school, but there are eight other children besides them. The oldest one is twelve. Anyone older than that is already out working in the rice fields or the farms, or trying to catch fish for food." He paused for a moment. "I've never been to the school during the day," he said, "but I think Marie's sort of thinking of me like one of the students. She comes by twice a week to teach me Khmer. I can count to, um, eighty-nine I think... and by this point I can hold a decent conversation, as long as we stick to mostly the weather or, you know, donkeys. I'm pretty good at describing what a donkey looks like. And introducing myself. 'Keen yom ch'moo-uh Chee-yaboh' means 'My name is Chee-yaboh.'" Angel sighed. "Devi laughs at my Khmer sometimes, but I speak Khmer better than she speaks French. Anyway, I can understand a lot of what she says now, but it's still hard every now and then to respond to her. Sometimes I have better luck communicating with Sann. It's mostly just nodding and pointing.
"I thought at first that Marie was the schoolteacher, but she's only a helper. And a missionary, I guess. The man who actually teaches the children is named... well, they call him Papa Pierre. I haven't met him, but the kids seem to like him. And the way Marie talks about him, he seems like a pretty decent guy. He's been living at the mission for about three years, but Marie only came last year to help out. After Pierre's wife died.
"It's been a few months since I moved here, and I've still only met four people - Devi and Sann, Marie, and Mrs. Sen. I still go out at night, but there's never anyone around. Marie keeps trying to get me to come to the mission during the day so I can meet Pierre. She's not really getting the whole vampire thing. I mean, I haven't actually told her what I am, but I told her the sun burns my skin, and a couple days ago she brought me a bottle of sunscreen." Angel glanced over at the shelf next to his bed, where the bottle of sunscreen was sitting. It had an SPF of 85. "I think it's the highest protection factor you can get. I told her it wouldn't work unless it could squirt out a burqa, but she wanted to leave it with me anyway - just in case I 'change my mind.'" He huffed. "Too bad it's not as simple as that. Just deciding, 'Hey, I don't feel like being a vampire today,' and then going outside and not bursting into flames." He paused guiltily, but decided not to record the fact that he'd tried some of the sunscreen on his finger and stuck it out the door to see if it would work. The burn wasn't healing very fast.
"I keep running out of paper," he said. "We went through my whole sketchbook pretty fast, and Marie's been giving me paper from the mission to use, but I'm down to just a couple of sheets again. Sann likes to draw little things, everyday objects, stuff that doesn't take up much room, but Devi draws these really big, elaborate pictures. Uses up a lot of paper. I keep trying to get her to draw smaller, but she's a... big picture kind of girl, I guess. No eye for detail, not like Sann - he'll spend twenty minutes just getting Spot's spot right - but I'm thinking we can work on that kind of thing as she gets older..."
Wait a minute. As Devi gets older? When he realized what he had just said, Angel abruptly stopped talking. Had he really just...? As Devi gets older.
It's true that he'd pictured the kids growing up - in those sort of vague, distant-future terms that you find yourself thinking in after you become immortal - but that simple phrase was the first time he'd ever really acknowledged the fact that he was intending to stay here for more than a few months. It seemed as though his semi-permanent arrangement had become permanent while he wasn't paying attention. It was... more of a surprise to him than decisions like that ought to be.
As Devi gets older. It was actually very easy to imagine her as a teenager. She'd be fifteen in ten years. Ten years wasn't very long at all. And ten years after that, Angel could clearly see himself still living in the same little house by the village, lying on his bed sweating. And ten years after that, and ten years after that... blinks of the eye to someone like him, but to Devi and Sann...
Maybe this was why he hadn't recorded in so long. He'd known what was happening, but it was so easy to ignore when you didn't have to say it out loud. He'd gone and accidentally done exactly the thing he'd come here to avoid - getting involved with humans. Humans, with their vulnerable, fleeting little hearts. Humans that, no matter what happens, will always end up leaving you behind. Humans that don't mean to hurt you as much as they inevitably do.
Shit.
The only way to keep from getting hurt was to leave. Now. He could do that, right? Just take off again. Cut his losses and disappear. Finally make it down to Australia? He'd miss the kids, but at least he wouldn't have to watch them grow old and die. He wouldn't have to see Devi wrinkled and grey-haired like Mrs. Sen, and he wouldn't have to see Sann suffer three heart attacks like Conn--
It was hurt a little now or hurt a lot later... which would be better?
But where the hell could he go? He'd thought this was the best place on earth for not caring about anything, a third world country in the middle of a war where he didn't speak the language and there wasn't even a fucking indoor shower. He couldn't get any further away from humanity than he already had, and still it wasn't enough. It was almost like he was...
Angel huffed a bitter laugh at the thought. Cursed. Yeah. Heard that one before.
Before he could think any further in that direction, though, he heard familiar footsteps rapidly approaching his little house from the path outside. He stood to pull on a tank top and some pants, leaving the little recorder on his bed, and was fully dressed by the time the kids burst through his front door.
"Chee-yaboh! Chee-yaboh!" Devi was calling excitedly as she ran into his bedroom, followed closely by Sann. When she saw Angel, she ran straight into his legs and hugged him around the thighs as she usually did. He ruffled her hair.
"Hey Devi, hey Sann," Angel said in Khmer. "You're early today."
"Papa Pierre made us leave," Devi said. But before Angel could ask why, she said, "This is for you." She thrust her small fist up toward his hand, her fingers clenched tightly around something. "I made it. Sann made one, too." Sann was also holding something out toward Angel.
Angel let both children drop their prizes into his hand. "Thank you," he said. He sat down on the edge of the bed to look at the two identical leather strings with colored beads on them. "You made these for me?"
"Yes. It goes here," Devi explained, holding out her wrist. She was wearing a smaller version of one of the bracelets Angel was holding. So was Sann. "We had to make long ones for you because you have fat arms," she said.
Angel laughed quietly. "My arms are bigger than yours because I'm older, not because I'm fat."
Devi cocked her head slightly to one side for a moment. Then she looked at Angel. "Sann says that Papa Pierre must be really old then, because his arms are like this." She held her little hands several inches apart. Sann was grinning.
Angel grinned back at him. That was another thing... He was convinced by now that Devi and Sann were communicating by thought - he had witnessed it more than enough times to be absolutely certain - and he'd been just about to describe it to his recorder before he got distracted by the idea of the kids growing old.
Wait, now that he thought about it, had he turned the recorder off? No, there it was, lying on the bed by his hip, still recording. He picked it up.
"What's that?" Devi asked.
Angel hesitated. "It's a..." He didn't know the Khmer for 'tape recorder.' "Tape recorder," he said in French.
She reached for it, so he handed it to her. She watched the little gears turning through the window in the tape deck. "What does it do?"
Angel thought. He didn't have enough words to explain it in Khmer, but he gave it a shot anyway. "Remember the pictures I showed you from the cabinet? The pictures of real people?" he asked.
"Yes. Does this make the pictures?" Devi turned it over in her hands, examining it.
"It makes a picture of your voice," Angel said. "So you can hear your words again." He hoped he was making sense.
"Oh," said Devi. She looked confused.
"I'll show you," said Angel. "Will you say your numbers for me?"
"One, two, three, f--" Devi started to recite in Khmer.
"In French," Angel interrupted.
Devi sighed, but started over. "One, two, three, four, five... seven... six, eight, nine... eleven..."
"Close," Angel said, smiling. "Now listen." He stopped the tape and rewound it a little, then pushed the play button.
"En Francais," his own voice on the tape said, and there was a childish sigh, followed by Devi's voice saying, "Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq... sept... six, huit, neuf... onze..."
Angel stopped the tape. Devi was staring at it, wide-eyed. "See?" he said.
After that, of course, Devi wanted to record herself saying different things and then listening to them. Angel ended up with the following phrases recorded on his tape in the little girl's voice: "What should I say, Chee-yaboh?" and "My name is Devi Sen and I am five" and "My favorite color is pink and purple" as well as a snippet of the song "Frère Jaques." She was especially delighted to hear herself sing.
After a while, Angel put the recorder down. "Would you like to make up a story now?" he asked. When Devi and Sann came over, they usually drew pictures and told stories until it was time to go. One good thing about having lived so long is that Angel had a lot of stories to tell, and the kids loved to hear about the adventures of the donkey man.
"What about Sann?" asked Devi.
Angel glanced over at the little boy, who was now sitting on the floor beside the bed, looking back at him expectantly. "Sann can help us make up a story, too," said Angel.
"No, he wants to... make a voice picture," Devi said. She tilted her head as though she were listening to something far away.
Angel's brow furrowed. "Sann can... talk?" he asked. He was sure Sann could communicate with Devi, but he'd never actually heard the boy say anything out loud.
"Yes, silly." She was squinting, head cocked to one side. "But he wants you to say it. He wants you to say something to... to the other one."
"The other one?" Angel asked. "The other what?"
Devi looked from Sann's pleasant expression to Angel's confused one and gave him a smile. "The other donkey man," she said.
*
Spike is lying on his back on Angel's bed, listening to the recording. He smells Angel, and he hears Angel's voice talking, and it's not very difficult at all to picture Angel lying here in exactly the same way he is, hand resting on the recorder on his chest. If he closes his eyes, he can actually imagine that Angel is in the room with him now, just telling him these things, without the recorder and more than a year and a half separating them.
Of course, he'd have to be imagining that because he and Angel had never gotten to a point where they could talk so openly with each other. Still, it's kind of nice to hear a familiar voice just talking, as to a friend, and imagine that the words are meant for him.
When Angel goes silent, Spike wonders for a moment if he's accidentally stopped the tape, but it's still turning inside the recorder, so he waits. Finally, he hears a little girl's voice calling Angel in Khmer, and the exchange between the two of them is impossible for him to follow, but he still listens raptly. Angel'd always been good at picking up foreign languages quickly - unlike Spike - but the transformation of his voice into the weird rhythm of Khmer is still almost a shock. He'd heard Angel speak both Mandarin and Korean before, but this one was even stranger. Didn't even sound like a language, really. He'd probably never be able to learn it himself. Spike had lived in China for almost a year, and by the time he'd moved on he still couldn't speak a word of Mandarin, whereas Angel had picked up conversational Chinese in the space of about two months.
Suddenly understanding two of Angel's words again comes as a surprise. And then the little girl counts to... well, eleven (sort of) in French, which Spike also understands. And then there are a few starts and stops of the recording, signified by soft clicks, where the girl says single sentences in Khmer, and then a chorus of "Frère Jaques" in heavily accented French. Spike supposes that Angel's showing her how the tape recorder works and letting her listen to her own voice. It makes him smile to picture the old bastard entertaining a child like that.
But what he hears next nearly makes him drop the recorder onto the floor.
*
"What other donkey man?" Angel asked.
Devi tilted her head again. "The one who listens," she said. "He's listening to our voice pictures."
Angel glanced down at the recorder. "But no one's listening to it, see?" he said, holding it up for her to see. The tape was stopped.
Devi shrugged. "Sann really wants you to make a voice picture for the other donkey man. He says it's important."
Angel looked at Sann. The boy was sitting on the floor looking back at him, an expectant look on his round face. Sann pointed at the recorder.
Angel had no idea what they were talking about, but he figured it couldn't hurt to humor them. "What does he want me to say?" he asked Devi.
Devi's head was still tilted. Carefully, she told Angel Sann's message. "And," she added, "he wants you to say it in your other words."
"My other words?" Angel asked, eyebrow raised.
"Your English words," said Devi.
*
Bloody hell. Spike stops the tape immediately and rewinds it. Obviously the message hadn't been meant for him - how could it have been? - but he needs to hear it again. Just to... make sure? He presses play.
"--tines, din din don, din din don!" sings the little girl's voice happily. Then there's a pause and the popping sound of the recorder being stopped and started again, and then...
"If you're listening to this," Angel says, "I know that you're trying to find me. Devi can show you where I am." There's a pause, and then the little girl says something in Khmer. Angel says something back to her, and then he adds in English, "But not until you hear the whole story."
*
Angel stopped the tape again. "Is that all?" he asked. He was talking to Devi but looking at Sann. Sann nodded, grinning.
Devi laughed. "He says that's all for right now. Are you going to wear them?"
"What?" Angel asked.
She held up her hand and pointed at the bracelet on her little wrist. "They go like this," she said. "You can be like us!"
Oh, right. Angel put the recorder down on the bed and started to tie one of the bracelets around his wrist, giving Devi a wry smile. "I don't know if I want to be like you," he teased. "You are very short."
Devi rolled her eyes. "I'm five," she said. As Angel started to tie the other bracelet around his wrist below the first one, she grabbed his hand and tugged on it, attempting to pull him to the other room. "Come tell us about the girl who fights monsters again, Chee-yaboh."
Angel sighed a put-upon sigh and let himself be tugged. As much as he hated the idea of the kids growing old and dying, the thought of leaving them behind as he went off to be miserable somewhere else was even worse. He supposed he was pretty much screwed either way, unless he could somehow figure out a way to freeze the little village in time. Because that always went well...
The best thing would probably be to just let life happen and try not to think about it, but he'd done that with everyone else he'd loved, and all he had to show for it now besides heartache was a few photographs. He wondered if all he'd have to show for his relationship with Sann and Devi would be some drawings of donkeys and a heavily accented version of "Frère Jaques" on an old cassette.
The two children, big smiles on their round little faces and completely oblivious to the fate that awaited their mortal bodies, led Angel out of the bedroom, leaving the small recorder on the bed behind them.
*
But if it wasn't meant for him, who was the message meant for? Spike listens to it a third time, then a fourth time. Perhaps it is meant for him. He's the only one listening to this tape. And he is looking for Angel. But how could Angel possibly have known a year and a half ago that Spike would be here now? It doesn't make sense.
And... the whole story? What whole story? Does that just mean to finish listening to the tapes? He'd been planning to do that anyway, but now he's even more eager to hear what had been going on in Angel's life before he got here. Maybe there'd be another clue about where he is now.
Not that the message was for Spike. Because that would be ridiculous...
Right?
On the other hand, stranger things have happened.
With a heightened sense of urgency and even more curiosity about the slowly unfolding story of Angel's new life, Spike presses the play button again.
*
Continued [here].
Back to [Table of Contents]
*
Author: girlpire
Rating: FRM
Pairing: Primarily Angel/Spike
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" and "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please do not archive this story anywhere.
Summary: He doesn't think about what it means that two weeks after his last friend died, he headed off to find the old bastard. Maybe it doesn't mean anything. Just something to do.
Author's Notes: This is the third part of a story that was written for
spring_spangel 2008. The first part is [here].Author's Notes 2: This story is set about seventy years post-NFA, but disregards both the AtS and BtVS comics - meaning that the whole Rome thing in TGiQ is canon. Because that is how I occasionally roll. Also, dialogue in italics means that it is spoken in a language other than English. You should be able to tell from the context what language the characters are speaking (probably either Khmer or French).
Author's Notes 3: For reasons beyond my control, this chapter is shorter than originally planned. It's about 1/3 of what I was intending to post today, but since the last third isn't finished yet, and I can't post the second third without the third third, I'm just posting the first third. If that made any sense. However! I'm hoping to finish the last two thirds this weekend sometime, and I'll be posting chapter 3.5 next week (hopefully). On the plus side, new banner! :)
*
Last Known Address
Part Three
*
Angel lay on his bed in a pair of black boxer shorts, the little tape recorder resting flat against his chest. He had a finger on the record button but hadn't pushed it in yet. It had been almost two months since he'd recorded anything, so it was hard to decide where to start. Nothing especially significant had happened over the last several weeks, but all the little things felt like too much to talk about at one time, which was probably why he'd put off recording for so long. He'd thought about just forgetting the whole thing - it's not like he had some kind of obligation to the little recorder - but he'd left it sitting on his windowsill for so long that simply putting it away felt wrong somehow, and ignoring it while it sat there felt even wronger. He almost felt as though he'd been recording a story for some future audience to listen to, and it would be a shame to abandon it partway through.
He shifted a little as he thought about where to start, and the waistband of the boxers slid loosely around his hips. The shorts were becoming a bit too big for him. He'd lost more weight in the past weeks than he ever had since he'd become a vampire, including the couple of decades he spent living off alley rats. He wasn't starving himself on purpose; it was just that sometimes he couldn't be bothered to feed, and so he forgot to. Even when he did feed, he didn't take very much. He only had two animals to alternate between, and he didn't want to take enough to hurt them. He was always a little bit hungry, but then, so was everyone else in the village.
The sheet on his bed was sticking to his lower back with sweat. He was so used to sweating by now that he barely even noticed it anymore; the heat was just a part of living here. In fact, if he gave it any thought, he would probably say that he kind of liked it. It was nice to be warm all the time.
After a few minutes of deciding what to say, Angel finally pressed the record button.
"Marie says the kids are doing well in school," he started quietly, looking up toward the ceiling, one arm folded behind his head while his other hand rested on the small recorder on his chest, "even though Sann doesn't talk. Devi always answers for him. I think they're the two youngest kids in the school, but there are eight other children besides them. The oldest one is twelve. Anyone older than that is already out working in the rice fields or the farms, or trying to catch fish for food." He paused for a moment. "I've never been to the school during the day," he said, "but I think Marie's sort of thinking of me like one of the students. She comes by twice a week to teach me Khmer. I can count to, um, eighty-nine I think... and by this point I can hold a decent conversation, as long as we stick to mostly the weather or, you know, donkeys. I'm pretty good at describing what a donkey looks like. And introducing myself. 'Keen yom ch'moo-uh Chee-yaboh' means 'My name is Chee-yaboh.'" Angel sighed. "Devi laughs at my Khmer sometimes, but I speak Khmer better than she speaks French. Anyway, I can understand a lot of what she says now, but it's still hard every now and then to respond to her. Sometimes I have better luck communicating with Sann. It's mostly just nodding and pointing.
"I thought at first that Marie was the schoolteacher, but she's only a helper. And a missionary, I guess. The man who actually teaches the children is named... well, they call him Papa Pierre. I haven't met him, but the kids seem to like him. And the way Marie talks about him, he seems like a pretty decent guy. He's been living at the mission for about three years, but Marie only came last year to help out. After Pierre's wife died.
"It's been a few months since I moved here, and I've still only met four people - Devi and Sann, Marie, and Mrs. Sen. I still go out at night, but there's never anyone around. Marie keeps trying to get me to come to the mission during the day so I can meet Pierre. She's not really getting the whole vampire thing. I mean, I haven't actually told her what I am, but I told her the sun burns my skin, and a couple days ago she brought me a bottle of sunscreen." Angel glanced over at the shelf next to his bed, where the bottle of sunscreen was sitting. It had an SPF of 85. "I think it's the highest protection factor you can get. I told her it wouldn't work unless it could squirt out a burqa, but she wanted to leave it with me anyway - just in case I 'change my mind.'" He huffed. "Too bad it's not as simple as that. Just deciding, 'Hey, I don't feel like being a vampire today,' and then going outside and not bursting into flames." He paused guiltily, but decided not to record the fact that he'd tried some of the sunscreen on his finger and stuck it out the door to see if it would work. The burn wasn't healing very fast.
"I keep running out of paper," he said. "We went through my whole sketchbook pretty fast, and Marie's been giving me paper from the mission to use, but I'm down to just a couple of sheets again. Sann likes to draw little things, everyday objects, stuff that doesn't take up much room, but Devi draws these really big, elaborate pictures. Uses up a lot of paper. I keep trying to get her to draw smaller, but she's a... big picture kind of girl, I guess. No eye for detail, not like Sann - he'll spend twenty minutes just getting Spot's spot right - but I'm thinking we can work on that kind of thing as she gets older..."
Wait a minute. As Devi gets older? When he realized what he had just said, Angel abruptly stopped talking. Had he really just...? As Devi gets older.
It's true that he'd pictured the kids growing up - in those sort of vague, distant-future terms that you find yourself thinking in after you become immortal - but that simple phrase was the first time he'd ever really acknowledged the fact that he was intending to stay here for more than a few months. It seemed as though his semi-permanent arrangement had become permanent while he wasn't paying attention. It was... more of a surprise to him than decisions like that ought to be.
As Devi gets older. It was actually very easy to imagine her as a teenager. She'd be fifteen in ten years. Ten years wasn't very long at all. And ten years after that, Angel could clearly see himself still living in the same little house by the village, lying on his bed sweating. And ten years after that, and ten years after that... blinks of the eye to someone like him, but to Devi and Sann...
Maybe this was why he hadn't recorded in so long. He'd known what was happening, but it was so easy to ignore when you didn't have to say it out loud. He'd gone and accidentally done exactly the thing he'd come here to avoid - getting involved with humans. Humans, with their vulnerable, fleeting little hearts. Humans that, no matter what happens, will always end up leaving you behind. Humans that don't mean to hurt you as much as they inevitably do.
Shit.
The only way to keep from getting hurt was to leave. Now. He could do that, right? Just take off again. Cut his losses and disappear. Finally make it down to Australia? He'd miss the kids, but at least he wouldn't have to watch them grow old and die. He wouldn't have to see Devi wrinkled and grey-haired like Mrs. Sen, and he wouldn't have to see Sann suffer three heart attacks like Conn--
It was hurt a little now or hurt a lot later... which would be better?
But where the hell could he go? He'd thought this was the best place on earth for not caring about anything, a third world country in the middle of a war where he didn't speak the language and there wasn't even a fucking indoor shower. He couldn't get any further away from humanity than he already had, and still it wasn't enough. It was almost like he was...
Angel huffed a bitter laugh at the thought. Cursed. Yeah. Heard that one before.
Before he could think any further in that direction, though, he heard familiar footsteps rapidly approaching his little house from the path outside. He stood to pull on a tank top and some pants, leaving the little recorder on his bed, and was fully dressed by the time the kids burst through his front door.
"Chee-yaboh! Chee-yaboh!" Devi was calling excitedly as she ran into his bedroom, followed closely by Sann. When she saw Angel, she ran straight into his legs and hugged him around the thighs as she usually did. He ruffled her hair.
"Hey Devi, hey Sann," Angel said in Khmer. "You're early today."
"Papa Pierre made us leave," Devi said. But before Angel could ask why, she said, "This is for you." She thrust her small fist up toward his hand, her fingers clenched tightly around something. "I made it. Sann made one, too." Sann was also holding something out toward Angel.
Angel let both children drop their prizes into his hand. "Thank you," he said. He sat down on the edge of the bed to look at the two identical leather strings with colored beads on them. "You made these for me?"
"Yes. It goes here," Devi explained, holding out her wrist. She was wearing a smaller version of one of the bracelets Angel was holding. So was Sann. "We had to make long ones for you because you have fat arms," she said.
Angel laughed quietly. "My arms are bigger than yours because I'm older, not because I'm fat."
Devi cocked her head slightly to one side for a moment. Then she looked at Angel. "Sann says that Papa Pierre must be really old then, because his arms are like this." She held her little hands several inches apart. Sann was grinning.
Angel grinned back at him. That was another thing... He was convinced by now that Devi and Sann were communicating by thought - he had witnessed it more than enough times to be absolutely certain - and he'd been just about to describe it to his recorder before he got distracted by the idea of the kids growing old.
Wait, now that he thought about it, had he turned the recorder off? No, there it was, lying on the bed by his hip, still recording. He picked it up.
"What's that?" Devi asked.
Angel hesitated. "It's a..." He didn't know the Khmer for 'tape recorder.' "Tape recorder," he said in French.
She reached for it, so he handed it to her. She watched the little gears turning through the window in the tape deck. "What does it do?"
Angel thought. He didn't have enough words to explain it in Khmer, but he gave it a shot anyway. "Remember the pictures I showed you from the cabinet? The pictures of real people?" he asked.
"Yes. Does this make the pictures?" Devi turned it over in her hands, examining it.
"It makes a picture of your voice," Angel said. "So you can hear your words again." He hoped he was making sense.
"Oh," said Devi. She looked confused.
"I'll show you," said Angel. "Will you say your numbers for me?"
"One, two, three, f--" Devi started to recite in Khmer.
"In French," Angel interrupted.
Devi sighed, but started over. "One, two, three, four, five... seven... six, eight, nine... eleven..."
"Close," Angel said, smiling. "Now listen." He stopped the tape and rewound it a little, then pushed the play button.
"En Francais," his own voice on the tape said, and there was a childish sigh, followed by Devi's voice saying, "Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq... sept... six, huit, neuf... onze..."
Angel stopped the tape. Devi was staring at it, wide-eyed. "See?" he said.
After that, of course, Devi wanted to record herself saying different things and then listening to them. Angel ended up with the following phrases recorded on his tape in the little girl's voice: "What should I say, Chee-yaboh?" and "My name is Devi Sen and I am five" and "My favorite color is pink and purple" as well as a snippet of the song "Frère Jaques." She was especially delighted to hear herself sing.
After a while, Angel put the recorder down. "Would you like to make up a story now?" he asked. When Devi and Sann came over, they usually drew pictures and told stories until it was time to go. One good thing about having lived so long is that Angel had a lot of stories to tell, and the kids loved to hear about the adventures of the donkey man.
"What about Sann?" asked Devi.
Angel glanced over at the little boy, who was now sitting on the floor beside the bed, looking back at him expectantly. "Sann can help us make up a story, too," said Angel.
"No, he wants to... make a voice picture," Devi said. She tilted her head as though she were listening to something far away.
Angel's brow furrowed. "Sann can... talk?" he asked. He was sure Sann could communicate with Devi, but he'd never actually heard the boy say anything out loud.
"Yes, silly." She was squinting, head cocked to one side. "But he wants you to say it. He wants you to say something to... to the other one."
"The other one?" Angel asked. "The other what?"
Devi looked from Sann's pleasant expression to Angel's confused one and gave him a smile. "The other donkey man," she said.
*
Spike is lying on his back on Angel's bed, listening to the recording. He smells Angel, and he hears Angel's voice talking, and it's not very difficult at all to picture Angel lying here in exactly the same way he is, hand resting on the recorder on his chest. If he closes his eyes, he can actually imagine that Angel is in the room with him now, just telling him these things, without the recorder and more than a year and a half separating them.
Of course, he'd have to be imagining that because he and Angel had never gotten to a point where they could talk so openly with each other. Still, it's kind of nice to hear a familiar voice just talking, as to a friend, and imagine that the words are meant for him.
When Angel goes silent, Spike wonders for a moment if he's accidentally stopped the tape, but it's still turning inside the recorder, so he waits. Finally, he hears a little girl's voice calling Angel in Khmer, and the exchange between the two of them is impossible for him to follow, but he still listens raptly. Angel'd always been good at picking up foreign languages quickly - unlike Spike - but the transformation of his voice into the weird rhythm of Khmer is still almost a shock. He'd heard Angel speak both Mandarin and Korean before, but this one was even stranger. Didn't even sound like a language, really. He'd probably never be able to learn it himself. Spike had lived in China for almost a year, and by the time he'd moved on he still couldn't speak a word of Mandarin, whereas Angel had picked up conversational Chinese in the space of about two months.
Suddenly understanding two of Angel's words again comes as a surprise. And then the little girl counts to... well, eleven (sort of) in French, which Spike also understands. And then there are a few starts and stops of the recording, signified by soft clicks, where the girl says single sentences in Khmer, and then a chorus of "Frère Jaques" in heavily accented French. Spike supposes that Angel's showing her how the tape recorder works and letting her listen to her own voice. It makes him smile to picture the old bastard entertaining a child like that.
But what he hears next nearly makes him drop the recorder onto the floor.
*
"What other donkey man?" Angel asked.
Devi tilted her head again. "The one who listens," she said. "He's listening to our voice pictures."
Angel glanced down at the recorder. "But no one's listening to it, see?" he said, holding it up for her to see. The tape was stopped.
Devi shrugged. "Sann really wants you to make a voice picture for the other donkey man. He says it's important."
Angel looked at Sann. The boy was sitting on the floor looking back at him, an expectant look on his round face. Sann pointed at the recorder.
Angel had no idea what they were talking about, but he figured it couldn't hurt to humor them. "What does he want me to say?" he asked Devi.
Devi's head was still tilted. Carefully, she told Angel Sann's message. "And," she added, "he wants you to say it in your other words."
"My other words?" Angel asked, eyebrow raised.
"Your English words," said Devi.
*
Bloody hell. Spike stops the tape immediately and rewinds it. Obviously the message hadn't been meant for him - how could it have been? - but he needs to hear it again. Just to... make sure? He presses play.
"--tines, din din don, din din don!" sings the little girl's voice happily. Then there's a pause and the popping sound of the recorder being stopped and started again, and then...
"If you're listening to this," Angel says, "I know that you're trying to find me. Devi can show you where I am." There's a pause, and then the little girl says something in Khmer. Angel says something back to her, and then he adds in English, "But not until you hear the whole story."
*
Angel stopped the tape again. "Is that all?" he asked. He was talking to Devi but looking at Sann. Sann nodded, grinning.
Devi laughed. "He says that's all for right now. Are you going to wear them?"
"What?" Angel asked.
She held up her hand and pointed at the bracelet on her little wrist. "They go like this," she said. "You can be like us!"
Oh, right. Angel put the recorder down on the bed and started to tie one of the bracelets around his wrist, giving Devi a wry smile. "I don't know if I want to be like you," he teased. "You are very short."
Devi rolled her eyes. "I'm five," she said. As Angel started to tie the other bracelet around his wrist below the first one, she grabbed his hand and tugged on it, attempting to pull him to the other room. "Come tell us about the girl who fights monsters again, Chee-yaboh."
Angel sighed a put-upon sigh and let himself be tugged. As much as he hated the idea of the kids growing old and dying, the thought of leaving them behind as he went off to be miserable somewhere else was even worse. He supposed he was pretty much screwed either way, unless he could somehow figure out a way to freeze the little village in time. Because that always went well...
The best thing would probably be to just let life happen and try not to think about it, but he'd done that with everyone else he'd loved, and all he had to show for it now besides heartache was a few photographs. He wondered if all he'd have to show for his relationship with Sann and Devi would be some drawings of donkeys and a heavily accented version of "Frère Jaques" on an old cassette.
The two children, big smiles on their round little faces and completely oblivious to the fate that awaited their mortal bodies, led Angel out of the bedroom, leaving the small recorder on the bed behind them.
*
But if it wasn't meant for him, who was the message meant for? Spike listens to it a third time, then a fourth time. Perhaps it is meant for him. He's the only one listening to this tape. And he is looking for Angel. But how could Angel possibly have known a year and a half ago that Spike would be here now? It doesn't make sense.
And... the whole story? What whole story? Does that just mean to finish listening to the tapes? He'd been planning to do that anyway, but now he's even more eager to hear what had been going on in Angel's life before he got here. Maybe there'd be another clue about where he is now.
Not that the message was for Spike. Because that would be ridiculous...
Right?
On the other hand, stranger things have happened.
With a heightened sense of urgency and even more curiosity about the slowly unfolding story of Angel's new life, Spike presses the play button again.
*
Continued [here].
Back to [Table of Contents]
*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 06:28 pm (UTC)Excellent, excellent! Made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck at that point!
Great chapter love.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 10:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 06:33 pm (UTC)This is....fabulous!
I am enthralled, I am engaged, I am waiting...
[taps fingers, crosses fingers, crosses toes.....]
[still waiting....]
no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 10:11 pm (UTC)ps. icon love. :D
no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 10:24 pm (UTC)Very sad, Angel's musings about humanity.
my poor woobie... *pets him*
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 06:54 pm (UTC)More please! I can't wait.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 03:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 07:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 03:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 08:20 pm (UTC)And I can empathize with Spike; I'd be more than willing to listen to hours and hours of Angel, even if he was talking in another language ;)
no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 03:20 am (UTC)I'd be more than willing to listen to hours and hours of Angel, even if he was talking in another language
girl, you are so right. i sometimes even go back and listen to [this radio interview with DB (http://media.putfile.com/Boreanaz-is-our--Celebrity-Football-Picks---)] even though sports-speak is like a different language to me.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 08:41 pm (UTC)So…. The kids have the sight and are telepathic? Hmmmm interesting very very interesting! I seriously cannot wait for more. I wonder how Spike is going to communicate with Devi. And I’m still worried for Sann.
decided not to record the fact that he'd tried some of the sunscreen on his finger and stuck it out the door to see if it would work. The burn wasn't healing very fast.
Awwww he’s so so adorable *hugs Angel*
Really really amazing chapter honey! And I love the new banner :)
*kisses*
no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 06:33 pm (UTC)i'm so glad you think so! i spend very little time around children, so i've never really been quite sure how to act around them, and i definitely don't feel comfortable writing them, so i was worried i would have angel doing something wrong by accident. heh.
Awwww he’s so so adorable *hugs Angel*
yay! thank you. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 08:47 pm (UTC)Angel and the kids, again, are so realistically drawn and so nuanced I feel like this all really happened and you stowed away in the cabin to write it all. *SIGH*
Oh so incredibly beautiful.
Spike's lucky he's already dead, or that little 'message' would have given him a heart attack!!
You are awesome and magnificent and fabulous and more please??
no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 06:35 pm (UTC)I feel like this all really happened and you stowed away in the cabin to write it all.
heh! i wish. although i don't think i'd be too happy without an air conditioner or indoor plumbing. :) i'm really happy that you're enjoying this!
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 09:30 pm (UTC)(I'll be back on Friday. Oh yes.)
no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 06:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 10:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 10:06 pm (UTC)Can't wait to see where this is all going.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 06:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 10:27 pm (UTC)Oh excellent plot development, and a little creepy.
Loved it, looking forward to the next.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 06:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 10:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 08:29 pm (UTC)can't wait for Spike and Angel to, I don't know, get on the same timeline or something. You know, together
haha, yeah... i'm finding it difficult to write hot sex between characters who aren't in the same place at the same time. :) the problem is that i'm afraid the rest of the story won't be very interesting once spike finds out where angel went. *sigh*
and i always picture angel as he appeared in season two of ats. that's my perfect angel. and since he doesn't change (theoretically), then even when i read season five fics, he's still season two angel in my head. just, you know, wearing suits and being all important. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 11:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 08:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 05:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-30 09:26 pm (UTC)captured the experience of only having young children to communicate with
heh, i just pictured talking to my brother. :D
angel is a big dork! part of why i ♥ him so much.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 05:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-30 09:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 05:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-30 09:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 06:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-30 09:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 08:35 am (UTC)I think that was my favourite part so far. You make me fall in love with Angel all over again - not that I was ever out of love with him, but somtimes, among all the drama, one runs in danger to forget how totally endearing he truly is.
*hugs you and Angel and Devi&Sann*
Of course, you convey the drama and heartache that is Angel's live very wellwell, too. The thought that Angel had to watch Connor have three heart attacks makes me want to cry and his thoughts about the mortality of others versus his own immortality make me gulp (because they are sad and melancholy and resigned and perfect).
It also makes me worry that Angel lost more weight by now than during his alleyrat-days *scolds him for not eating right* ... No, seriously, it makes me worry about him and wonder if the danger Spike might have to rescue him from - if such danger exists - is a purely physical one ...
You've got me intrigued! And biting my nails!
BTW I loved it that Angel and Spike have, through Sann and Devi, reached a new level of communication, so to speak.
no subject
Date: 2008-06-03 05:45 am (UTC)make me fall in love with Angel all over again
yay! \o/ i'm so glad. there can never be enough angel lovin. :D
You've got me intrigued! And biting my nails!
yay again! i'm having a lot of fun building this mystery... i'm kind of sad that i'll have to end it pretty soon in order to finish telling the real story.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 09:20 am (UTC)Of course I'm all in love with the details again. The thought of Angel sticking out his sun blocked finger had me smile like a dork.
I so hope I'll have internet again by the time you post the next part.
no subject
Date: 2008-06-03 05:48 am (UTC)the sunscreened finger made me grin too - because you just know he'd really try it. :D
no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 06:31 pm (UTC)"Devi tilted her head again. "The one who listens," she said. "He's listening to our voice pictures."
I really wans't expecting this! Love it! ;)
Can't wait for more!
no subject
Date: 2008-06-03 05:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 11:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-03 05:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 01:08 am (UTC)It goes without saying that I can't wait to read the rest.
no subject
Date: 2008-06-04 02:56 am (UTC)not much has actually happened yet. No big bad, the heroes are not in any danger that we know of, no big confrontations, Spike and Angel haven't even seen each other
er... yeah, sorry about that. heh. i promise there really is a story here somewhere - it just hasn't, you know, happened yet. but it will! i'm glad you're enjoying it anyway. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 05:12 am (UTC)This has me on the edge of my seat, which is so odd, because when I think about it nothing has really happened. Yet there is always at least one point in every chapter where I gasp aloud. With your writing, I hear the eerie, suspenseful music where it would be. I see it like it's a movie. Like it's a long lost, future movie of the shows.
I love all the little details, like the nickname the kids give him and their playful banter. I spend a lot of time around little kids and it rings perfectly true. These original characters are so seamless that I have not even thought of them as original characters until just this moment. It was kind of a revelation, like wow... you just made them up.
You commented about a Firefly fic that you thought "what are they doing writing fanfic?!" Well I would say the same thing about you, except I would never say such a thing because I am thrilled you are writing fanfic, especially this one in particular!
no subject
Date: 2008-06-04 03:06 am (UTC)i promise i will try to make an actual story happen in this fic soon. most of the key elements are here... i just need time to draw them together. i'm hoping everything will make a lot more sense in the next chapter.
I spend a lot of time around little kids and it rings perfectly true
oh, good! i'm so relieved to hear that... i don't spend very much time around children at all, so i'm basing their entire characterization on my sister's niece, who was adopted from china at the age of five. she's absolutely adorable and speaks chinese like a pro, although she's learning english now. i'm endlessly impressed with her, but i don't see her very often. which is why i was so nervous about writing the children.
anyway, thank you again!
no subject
Date: 2008-05-29 11:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-04 03:14 am (UTC)i'm glad you're enjoying the story!