Chapter Text
Beelzebub does not remember exactly when they sold their old name. The several years that they had to work for Lucifer personally - several long years - merged into a solid gray blur. This is a common situation when selling a name: when you're losing your name, you're losing yourself for a moment.
The name symbolizes the person, their past and future. The magical potential that burns in everyone's soul. The name also denotes your place in society, in the city's life. All decisions made in the past and those for which there would be a place in the future - it's all about the name. Lucifer bought the name of Beelzebub, as well as the name of Hastur and the rest of the employees of his establishments.
Selling a name is a new life from scratch, in which you are not responsible for who you were before. And you get a couple of acceptable gifts as a reward. Usually, this is money, although some buyers may offer something else.
Regarding himself, Beelzebub can guess one of the reasons for selling the name: it is unlikely that they was born with the body they has now. Most likely, they went through a magical transformation to get a more comfortable, suitable one.
Beelzebub got the Bustling Beehive not for selling their name, but for their work. Hard and unpleasant work, most of which were criminal. Beelzebub still sees dreams of long tram rides across the city: they sits in the corner, clutching a heavy suitcase and flinches every time someone else gets on the tram - and then Beelzebub gets to the bay when the sun is already down and throws into the dark water one by one guns that must disappear forever.
These dreams are not nightmares.
They leave behind a sticky feeling, but Beelzebub never wakes up screaming, even when a policeman is following him in their sleep, and noisy footsteps echo throughout the alley.
Beelzebub had many chances to die or end up in prison. And die there, because people who work for Lucifer rarely survive in the hands of the law.
But now it's all left behind. After the Hellhound gang was exterminated, Lucifer disposed of some of his assets. The Bustling Beehive is no longer a cover for a brothel, but an ordinary bar, one of those without a "No Nameless Allowed" sign above the entrance - but there are many such bars and dinners in this part of the city. From time to time, Beelzebub meets familiar faces in the Hive. Surely, illegal deals are still made here: briefcases with drugs and weapons, which sooner or later will disappear into the bay, are being passed from hand to hand.
But Beelzebub has nothing to do with it anymore. Of course, if the cops want to put pressure on Beelzebub - or on any of the employees - the cops will find a way. It always goes like this: if the cops decide to put someone - anyone - on a hook, they won't get off, no matter how dirty or clean their hands are. So Beelzebub just keeping the balance, trying to pretend that everything goes as it should be.
Beelzebub has old friends for emergencies - but they will not bother loyal people over trifles.
The Bustling Beehive is all Beelzebub has now. This is not the best place, not the most pretty looking, and clearly not even close to any posh, but Beelzebub has nothing that feels more like home. And something tells him that in their previous life, with their real name, they had nothing better. Those who live happily do not sell their names. And they certainly don't sell them to someone like Lucifer.
So Beelzebub supports the Bustling Beehive as best they can. Even if it means working overtime again and again. Even if it means eating instant noodles because the Bustling Beehive's revenue for the month barely covered its expenses.
And Beelzebub doesn't want some retired cop just coming to this place and ruining everything. Especially the retired cop whose brilliant investigation wreaked havoc on Lucifer's life. Beelzebub does not like Lucifer - hate is too strong a word for this situation, but every time they remembers Lucifer, Beelzebub feels a musty taste in their mouth, similar to the smell of rotting algae and dirty water in the bay. But still, Beelzebub is more like Lucifer than anyone who might want to get rid of Lucifer or one of his assets.
Beelzebub has never met anyone from the Hellhound gang, so all they can rely on are some old rumors and newspaper articles from when Detective James Gabriel Angelo was on his big hunt. Fortunately, Beelzebub always may leave the Bustling Beehive for the day under the control of Dagon to go to the library.
The Hellhounds were engaged in racketeering. According to rumors, they had a rather powerful mage on the team, and maybe more than one, but the scam who ended up arrested were all ordinary people. And even if it was impossible to connect those criminals with Lucifer, this connection was a well-known secret. So he had to tuck his tail between his legs for a while and change his methods.
And let several people, including Beelzebub, quit their dirty jobs.
Much more interesting was the complete absence of any information about Detective Angelo. Sometimes a random person or someone who was hiding well before could become a big star, but stars that no longer shine usually just remain in the system, becoming dead weight. Some have to leave, and it's always an enormous scandal. Some manage to shine again for a brief moment - and usually, it's the reflected light of someone else's glory.
Detective Angelo seemed to disappear without a trace as soon as the newspapers got tired of telling the story of his brilliant victory over the Hellhounds. And regardless of how impressively they tried to display this triumph, it ultimately held no significance. Life remained the same. As far as Beelzebub knows, the Hellhounds have already been replaced with new ruthless goons.
And instead of pursuing this new prey, Detective Angelo chose to leave the police. Or he was forced to do it - and for some reason, guys in luxurious offices decided to do it as quietly as possible.
One way or another, the solution to the riddle was not on the surface.
And now, Beelzebub has two simple ways to dig deeper. The hard way: contact the cops loyal to their business - some old connections remained and some old gears could still be greased, but some mechanisms are better off remaining motionless. The risky way: try to talk to Angelo himself.
And Beelzebub knows that they would go along both paths.
Moreover, Angelo comes to the Bustling Beehive again already on Wednesday.