milliways_bar | (no subject)

The Voice sits down nearby and nods hello.

Charlie smiles back. "Is this bothering you?"

"Not at all. I delight in all manifestations of the euterpeian muse."

Charlie blinks at him. "I have no idea what you just said, mate, but I'll take that as a yes." He resumes playing, fiddling with chords and rhythms.

The Metatron listens for a while, then says, "So you're the one living with Bartleby now."

Hey. He's the Voice. There's very little he doesn't Know.

The music ends quite abruptly and Charlie stares.

"Who the hell are you?" He doens't bother to keep the hostility out of his voice.

"I'm not from Hell, for starters," the Voice says dryly.

That doesn't stop Charlie from frowning. "So who are you and how do you know Bartleby?"

"I am the Metatron. And I've known Bartleby since the beginning."

"The . . . Metatron." He blinks more. "Huh.

"Well, if you say so." He frowns.

The Metatron smiles and stands, and spreads out his wings to their full expanse. "I am the Metatron," he says in his sonorous voice. "I am the Voice of God."

" . . ."

Charlie tries to think of something to say. 'I like sleeping with angels' is probably a bad idea.

Metatron sits, folding his wings away, and sips from his sparkling water.

"No, it wouldn't," he agrees, smirking.

"Hey, mate? That's just freaky."

"Charlie, I'm an angel--not just your garden variety angel, either. I speak for God.

"Though I'm speaking for myself when I say love is not always going to hurt you." He gives a little nod to his glass. "That's what you need to hear. Prayer answered. All right?"

Charlie fiddles with the guitar strings and swallows the lump in his throat. "Bartleby's going to leave me, isn't he," he says quietly.

"He has free will now," the Metatron says gently. "Only he knows what he's going to do."

Charlie blinks a few times, looking away. He nods shortly.

The Voice stands and puts his hand a moment on Charlie's shoulder. "No matter what happens," he says gently, "you can handle it. I promise."

Charlie nods. He tries to smile, and while the angel's hand rests on his shoulder he almost manages it.

The Metatron squeezes his shoulder and lets him go. "Play something, Charlie. Music gives the soul a voice."

Charlie nods and tunes his guitar for a few minutes, then begins to sing softly.

I'm just so tired
Won't you sing me to sleep
Fly through my dreams
So I can hitch a ride
With you tonight
And get away from this place
Have a new name and face
I just ain't the same without you in my life

Late night drives
All alone in my car
I can't help but start
Singing lines
From all our favorite songs
And melodies in the air
Singing, life just ain't fair
But sometimes I still just can't
Believe you're gone

And I'm sure the view from Heaven
Beats the hell out of mine here
And if we all believe in Heaven
Then we will make it through
One more year, down here

Feel your fire, when it's cold in my heart
And things sorta start reminding me
Of my last night with you
I only need one more day
Just one more chance to say
I wish that I had gone up with you too

And I'm sure the view from Heaven
Beats the hell out of mine here
And if we all believe in Heaven
Then we will make it through
One more year, down here

You won't be coming back
And I didn't get to say goodbye
I really wish I got to say goodbye

I hope that all is well in Heaven
Cause it's all shot to hell down here
I hope that I find you in Heaven
Cause I'm so lost without you down here

You won't be coming back
And I didn't get to say goodbye
I really wish I got to say goodbye

The Metatron listens, and when the song is done he nods slowly and squeezes Charlie's shoulder again. "Tell Bartleby I said hello, would you?" he says, and heads for the front door.