the good grace to know which is which (chapter five)

A little late because I had exams this week, but eyy, we're done and I can edit and update again. 

V. Raise Heaven Bend Hell

Finding the Antichrist is a lot more difficult than people would think it to be, at least those who have never actually tried to find the Antichrist before. Like Beelzebub, as it had never been in the Great Plan to find the Antichrist. 

All that they had been supposed to do was assign someone to deliver the Antichrist to Earth when after he was born, keep tabs on the boy to make sure nothing had happened to him (not that anything really could, but you know, making sure), and then get all the demons ready for the Great War. 

They’d done a stellar job on all points, really, had it not been for Crowley’s bumbling around. 

But the good thing is that Aziraphale had mentioned that he was with his friends, and so while it is hard to find the Antichrist, it is not particularly hard to find the three other humans he usually hung out with, and much easier to find a hellhound stationed on earth to accompany a young boy. 

Beelzebub finds them in a fair, just like Aziraphale had said. The whole thing is actually quite lovely; loud and crowded just like Hell is but none of the dreariness that usually pollutes the air there. It’s the lively sort of loud and the fun sort of crowded, although it’s interspersed with the annoyance of some of the stall workers and a few tired parents. 

They can see why Crowley had taken credit for this, even if the humans probably made the whole thing up themselves. The stalls scam people and the games are all rigged, just to rake in money, so that’s a point for greed. Customers are rude to workers and take their frustrations out on them, so that’s a point for wrath. People who are supposed to be at work are spending their time here instead, so that’s an argument for sloth. The kids who buy more food than they can eat, and who eat more than what their stomachs can take therefore leading them to getting sick, a point for gluttony. The place is a cesspool for low-grade evil that’s churned out day after day, which is exactly Crowley’s style.

Beelzebub wonders idly, if Crowley had learned from the humans, or if he’d evolved his ways to suit their progress. The humans really don’t need them around, and they most certainly don’t need Crowley to push them to sin, as they do everything themselves and the more time Beelzebub spends up here, the more irritated they are at the realization. 

They slip out from behind the tent they’d landed in and smooth out their jacket, lowering their glasses onto their face. All the way across them, from where Wensleydale is currently somehow beating a rigged game with quick calculations, Adam Young is watching with rapt, entertained attention.

They think about their approach, for a moment. They’ve never had the impression that they’re in any way good with kids, but they know the basics on how to approach them: don’t be rude because that scares most of them off or just makes them rude back, dangle a carrot in front of them and watch them run, and speak nicely even if you’re the furthest thing from nice. That’s not going to work on the Them, much less Adam Young, but, well, there’s not a lot of angles to deal with the situation. 

If they stroll up to him with no good explanation at hand, and only appear to be orchestrating the end of the world again, he’ll likely wipe them out of existence. If they ask him where the Almighty is, and he doesn’t know how to contact Her, then he’ll probably not help because then he’ll know something’s up. They’re going to need him to either spill the answer or extend his help and bend reality to his will out of the goodness of his heart (because he sadly has both), not knowing that he’s helping Beelzebub.

How? Would a simple disguise work? They look a lot more human than they had the last time they’d been on earth, and they’d mostly done that  to avoid stares from strangers (less holdups that way, in case someone tried to drag them to a priest to get blessed) so maybe he won’t recognize them with the glasses, but he’ll still be able to look past Beelzebub’s corporation and realize who they are. Possessing someone isn’t going to help and would just disgust him. Getting a new corporation to act like a poor human who needs the guidance of a higher authority still won’t work since again, he’d just see through it.

Maybe they can get another human to do it? Bribe them or threaten them to do some dramatics in front of Adam Young on the - for a lack of better term - Hail Mary pass of a chance that he’d help? 

There’s that too, the fact that this is a hell of a Hail Mary pass of a chance. Sure, they’d immediately latched onto the idea that Adam Young would be a way to know the Ineffable Plan, but it’s in the same way that some people get an epiphany, rush into the epiphany because it’s a solution to a longtime problem and also they’re racing against a jackass who happens to be their hereditary enemy, and then realize that there’s still several steps more to go before everything is solved and the epiphany is just that, an epiphany. 

Just because the boy could didn’t mean he would. Beelzebub doesn’t have any leverage against him and any leverage they did have wouldn’t be enough since the boy could sneeze and everything with flesh could have their skin and muscles turned inside out if he wanted them to.

Ahead, Wensleydale pops another balloon with a well-aimed throw. The kids gathered around the Them cheer. Brian whoops and drops most of his icecream on his shirt. 

Adam Young, very subtly, freezes. 

So does Beelzebub.

The young boy turns to the side, slowly. Dog, at his feet, suddenly stands to attention and snarls. 

Beelzebub moves back behind the tent they’d been peeking from, as silent as they can manage it.  They know they look weird to anyone who would glance at them right now, but risking spreading out a small sliver of disfavour (they absolutely refuse to call it grace - it’s not grace when they no longer affiliated with Heaven or Her) to turn everyone’s gazes away from them might catch Adam’s attention before they’ve fully thought up a plan on how to proceed.

Slowly, he walks off, and Beelzebub feels their wings, incorporeal, relax and lower from where they’d been flared. They watch him as they make their way through the crowd, careful, Dog padding by his side on alert like the guardian he had been meant to be. His friends don’t appear to notice he’s gone off.

Beelzebub looks away. Should they follow him, or should they think of a better way to approach the situation first? It’s not like they can’t find him. When the Them and the Idiots Two are done with their vacation, the children are going to return to Tadfield and the Idiots are going back to - where are they living now again - right, South Downs. Beelzebub knows where to find them when they’re done here. They don’t need to rush into things, they have to have a strategy.

Around them, suddenly, the world shifts. 

It’s a subtle shift. Really, it’s not a shift at all, because nothing is moved out of place. Nothing is moved. 

Beelzebub closes their eyes as all the noise of the universe grinds to a halt. The fair has frozen with its people standing in place like wax figures in a museum; the earth stills in its orbit; the stars cease burning up tons upon tons of gas, the crackling hum of each of them suddenly muted even when everyone’s mostly tuned those out. 

The silence is actually defeaning, when everything isn’t making any noise anymore.

“Come on out,” Adam Young says, calm, but with the steady authority that he’s always had. Oh, wasted potential. 

Dog sits beside him, patient as he is.

Deciding that there’s not much to be done when the entire universe has been frozen into a three-dimensional still image, Beelzebub steps out from behind the tent and carefully weaves their way through all the bodies around them. Angering the Antichrist, no matter how great it would feel to just shove the humans aside, would not work in their favor right now. 

Hell is likely frozen too. No one’s even gonna know if they’re smited off the face of the earth. 

As they near Adam, they notice someone else walking through the crowds, tall enough that Beelzebub doesn’t even need to look over people’s shoulders to know who it is. 

Of course he’d immediately caught up. Ah, well, at least they’re both going to have to talk their way out of this together. Beelzebub hates him, but there’s always some comfort in knowing you’re not alone when you have to go through something rather harrowing.

Adam Young stares up at them both as they stop in front of him. 

“Adam Young,” Gabriel says.

“Lord Beelzebub, I think,” Adam says, nodding to Beelzebub, who inclines their head back. “And Gabriel.”

Dog whines a little.

Adam laughs. “He wants someone to greet him.”

Gabriel...smiles very tightly and very slowly. Beelzebub kicks his foot. 

“No, you do it,” he hisses, which only gets him another kick. 

Adam patiently waits for both of them to settle their tiny, not-very-subtle squabble.

Finally, Beelzebub says, “Hello...Dog.”

They get a happy tail wag for that. 

“So,” Adam says. “What brings both of you here? I’m sure you know my stance on the end of the world.”

“We do,” Gabriel says, “We’re not here about that.”

“And we’re not collaborating with each other either,” Beelzebub points out.

“Simply coincidentally assigned on small errands at the same time,” Gabriel says.

Adam hums. After a pause, he asks, “What are you here for, then?”

Gabriel and Beelzebub share a glance, not out of any innate synchronicity, but out of an actual simple coincidence. 

“Well,” Beelzebub says, “Like he said, small errands.” They motion to how they look. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered looking like I’m human.”

“How small?”

“Nothing to be alarmed about,” they say.

“Heaven and Hell actually have a peace treaty right now,” Gabriel says. “We cannot incite violence with each other.”

Yeah, which is going well with both of them, but as long as no one dies, both sides will likely be lenient. Besides, they’re Beelzebub and Gabriel, they helped draft the whole damn treaty in the first place.

“Oh,” Adam says, relaxing a little. “That’s good. So just messing people about then?” He frowns at that, like he’s just realized something about it.

“No,” Gabriel says, to stop him before his thoughts go somewhere that’ll end up with both of them disappearing with a snap. “We’re not here for either wiling or thwarting.”

Since Adam would be able to tell if either of them are lying or not, Beelzebub decides to keep their mouth shut and let Gabriel do the talking. He’s a priss about angels not lying after all, he’s got this.

Beelzebub pauses.

Wait.

Adam smiles innocently, knowing exactly when the realization comes to Beelzebub’s mind.

“First, before you get mad,” the boy says, raising his hands up in surrender, which is funny considering, well. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“And why’s that?” Beelzebub asks. Beside them, Gabriel closes his eyes and looks away as he too, comes to the same realization. 

“You hear a lot in what people aren’t saying when they’re making excuses,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets, the rigidity in his posture gone, his hunch back. “So - the Ineffable Plan?”

“And all it entails,” Gabriel says. “What do you know about it?”

“Why would I tell you?” he asks, although it’s playful. 

Gabriel sighs. 

“Earth is my home,” he says, “And it’s my friends’ home. I’m not going to help destroy it.”

“It’s not - it’s not to destroy it,” Gabriel says, even when it’s through gritted teeth. “We’re not here to destroy earth.”

That’s - that’s not a lie, technically. They’re not here to destroy earth, they’re here to figure out the Ineffable Plan, which Adam Young isn’t going to tell them about, obviously, since it’s going to involve the destruction of his home, so this is also, unfortunately, a bust. 

Beelzebub doesn’t want to sulk, but they can already feel like they’re going to, anyway.

“The last time you were down here - well, you, up here - ” Adam motions to Beelzebub. “ - you told me to start the apocalypse and begin the war.”

“Aziraphale tried to shoot you,” Beelzebub says flatly.

Adam winces and scratches his cheek.

Gabriel blinks. He turns to them. “I think I missed that.”

“Dagon wrote a report for the apocalypse and cross-checked between sources. Apparently, Aziraphale tried to shoot him.”

“Oh.”

“Well, I can’t deny that,” Adam says. He hesitates over his next few words, and then shrugs. “I got nothing to defend him.”

Beelzebub snorts.

“Point here is, though, the last time you were here, you wanted me to destroy the earth,” he says, “Not really a big surprise if I think you’re here to do it again.”

“No, I suppose not,” Beelzebub says. 

They need to convince Adam Young not on the ‘destroying the world’ part - because that’s going to come eventually, because there has to be a war, after all - but on the figuring out the Ineffable Plan part. That wouldn’t be a lie. And it is what they’re here for. Not a war, not yet, just the Plan.

“Look,” Beelzebub tries, “We’re here to figure out the Ineffable Plan, that’s all.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “And destroy the world.”

“Just to figure out the Ineffable Plan,” Beelzebub says, because that’s just it, and they need to believe their own lie - no, not even lie - first for it to be convincing. “That’s all. We have a treaty, we can’t attack each other, we haven’t attacked each other, and we’ve been here for days.”

Gabriel appears to have caught on, because he says, “Part of our treaty is to not meddle with humans as well.”

“See?” Beelzebub asks, before Adam can pick that apart. “Under the treaty, neither Heaven nor Hell is to incite violence with each other, unless of course it is self-defense, and the first attacking party will be charged of breaking the treaty and be punished accordingly. Earth and humanity is off-limits.” They don’t add the part that it’s only because one side might use it against the other as a loophole. “We are only here to figure out the Ineffable Plan.”

“And,” Gabriel says, “We don’t even know what the Ineffable Plan is. That’s why we have to figure it out.” He’s hamming up the theatrics now,  exaggerating facial expressions to make up for the flimsy argument.

“For all we know,” Beelzebub says, picking up on his point and running blindly with it, “The Ineffable Plan might not even include a war.”

When children are young, guardians, and every other book on safety they’d read, would tell them not to run with scissors, and for obvious reasons. If they drop the scissor, they could hurt their feet. If they trip and the scissors are pointed at them, they could hurt themselves. If they bump into someone else and the scissors are pointed outwards, they could stab them 

They’re dangerous weapons, but also very, very useful items. They’re used in crafts all the time. Some specialized scissors are used in the preparation of food. They’re a necessity for the tailoring of the clothes Gabriel so loves. They can be used to prune and trim a garden. 

They’re like knives, although - well, they’re kind of just two knives pasted together, if one really thinks about it, but the thing here is that, scissors and knives aren’t one thing or another, they’re tools. Most things are. Spoons are used for feeding but also scooping out eyeballs. Pens are used for writing but also for seriously injuring someone’s ear. The ability to get thoughts out can be used to give praise or to tear someone down.

Critical thinking is an angel and a demon’s pair of scissors. 

Beelzebub has just started running with one.

“It’s the Ineffable Plan,” they say, word-vomiting. “Ineffable. We don’t know exactly what it is.”

Gabriel is looking at them with an odd look on his face, but they barely give it a glance, because Adam Young has lit up, like he too, has realized something, and Beelzebub has just gotten his attention. 

Which is exactly what they need.

“If we really wanted a war,” Beelzebub says, “We would have ignored the fact that you didn’t want to lead the apocalypse. Think about it. If Aziraphale and Crowley could just go around earth and do whatever they wanted, why wouldn’t we be able to? Why would we strike a treaty instead, put everything on hold, and just try to figure out something that’s bothering us?”

“It’s not always a bad thing,” Gabriel says, although his focus is more on being confused at what Beelzebub is saying instead of supporting their nonsense to get Adam Young to offer his help. “It’s like one of Aziraphale’s...uh...books,” he says, a little uncertain, “Some of them are about mysteries.”

“Imagine if you’ve been told your whole life that you’re about one thing,” Beelzebub says, and this is steadier ground for them, so they’re able to get their thoughts out easier. “And then it turns out it’s something completely different, wouldn’t you want to figure it out when you realize you can?”

When you run with scissors pointed at you and you trip, you stab yourself.

“Well, when you put it that way,” Adam says, putting a hand to his chin in thought, a certain light in his eyes. “That does make sense.”

“We’re more than six thousand years old, Adam,” Beelzebub says, “And in all that time, we’ve been trying to follow the The Great Ineffable Plan, thinking it’s one thing, and it turns out it’s not.”

And it’s like getting the ground pulled out from under you, they think, so suddenly that it actually makes the trainwreck of their thoughts still.

It is like getting the ground pulled out from under you, like you have been taught: we are love and we are light and we are forgiveness, and it turns out those were big fat lies. And then you think: we are hate and we are darkness and we are resentment, and in a way, you forge it to be truth, because otherwise you wouldn’t have anything else to hold on to.

“That would mess you up quite badly, wouldn’t it?” Adam says. There’s a certain softness in his eyes when he says that. Beelzebub glances to Gabriel just to look away from it. 

“Exactly,” Gabriel says, although he doesn’t sound very convinced. He does know that Beelzebub’s just successfully reeled Adam Young in, and he’d be a fool to let this out of his grasp. “It’s just figuring out the Ineffable Plan, whatever that may be.” He makes sure to put emphasis on the last part.

Dangerous things, scissors.

Adam Young, with a glint of mischief in his eyes, smiles.