Hell's Detective

Chapter Forty-seven- All We Need

Now that Ingleseid thought about it, he didn't ever really take time to look at the stars. He was always so busy, wasn't everyone? Granted, they were busy with jobs and weddings and tax returns, while he was busy with fighting goblins or making deals with witches or running away from killer angels, but still, as he lay on the hood of Holly's car with Beelzebub curled under his elbow and Holly snuggling up to Tatters on his other side, he realized just how beautiful the night sky was, lit up by pinpoints of light burning their way through the blackness. It was a very magical moment indeed.

"So, basically you're the Antichrist's lap dog now," Holly said, and it was gone.

"Thank you for wording it so eloquently."

Holly shrugged. "So, when's he gonna pop on down here?"

"Don't know," Ingleseid said. "Time passes differently in Hell. Could be a month from now. Could be tomorrow."

"There's a pleasant thought," she muttered. She glanced at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, thanks to your spell."

"Yeah, well, you're lucky I gave it to you," she snapped. "The next time you go round stabbing yourself, I'll let you stew in a hospital bed with nothing but mortal medicine to fix you." She paused, looked down. "I really thought you were going to die, you know."

"I'm sorry," he said honestly.

"I was going to get Tatters to turn you into a zombie."

"You were going to what?" Ingleseid demanded. The idea of all that wit and intelligence he possessed being thrown away and replaced with slow, drawling speech and shuffling steps was simply a crime against humanity.

Tatters pointed out a star he found particularly fascinating to Holly, and she grinned at him. Ingleseid had been worried that when they returned Tatters wouldn't have gotten over being left behind, but he seemed to have genuinely forgotten about it. And although Ingleseid suspected that somewhere, deep down, he still held a bit of a grudge, Tatters was yet to mention anything about it, and Ingleseid was more than happy to do the same.

"Do you think it's up there?" Holly asked, peering up into the sky. "Heaven, I mean."

"Probably," Ingleseid said.

"Do you think we're going? We did just save the world. If that doesn't win us a ticket, I don't know what does."

"I'm not sure it works like that," Ingleseid murmured.

"Well, it should." She paused, made a face. "Hang on, if Samael can sense the Saviour, won't he know we didn't kill him?"

Ingleseid shook his head. "The Saviour's in Heaven now. The connection's been cut. The only way Samael would know of his existence is if he came back to Earth."

"Which hopefully won't be for a very, very long time," Holly muttered.

"Look," Tatters said suddenly, pointing at the sky. Something bright and golden streaked across, over the trees and out of sight.

"Shooting star," Holly murmured. "Make a wish, Tats."

"Don't want to," Tatters said. He looked over at them. "I have everything I need."

A few seconds of silence followed this profound little statement.

Ingleseid blinked. "Oh my God, you're adorable."

Vibrations shot through the hood of the car, and Holly frowned, pulled out her phone.

"Holly speaking," she said slowly. "Uh-huh. Okay. Really? Uh, tomorrow. Tomorrow's fine. Cheers." She hung up the phone and gripped Ingleseid's arm painfully tight. "I have a client," she said. "Oh my gosh, I have a client!"

This was surely a rare and momentous occasion, and Ingleseid would have been very happy to celebrate it with her if the circulation hadn't slowly been draining from his arm. He wrestled it back. "What's the issue?"

She grinned. "Affair."

"You don't have to sound quite so happy about that."

But she ignored him. "This is a sign, you know?" she said. No more demons. No more angels and vampires and antichrists. Just good old normal human problems."

Beelzebub whined at the sudden lack of attention he was receiving, and Ingleseid slung an arm around him. He looked at Holly and Tatters and started grinning, found he couldn't bring himself to stop.

"What?" Holly said, but he just shook his head.

They were alive. They were alive and together. And against all odds, it looked like they were going to stay that way.

Tatters was right.

They had everything they needed.

Author's Note: Thanks to KatherineSislow for her amazing critiques! They really inspired me and all your advice made a great improvement to the story. Thank you!