Work Text:
September 1990
God summoned the angel Shane one day to heaven.
Shane had been busy. He had spent the last few hundred years in Alpha Centauri helping create a few planets scheduled to hold life. It was a decent job, and God could have done it, but you needed some angels to help with the nitty gritty details, and Shane was good at that sort of thing. A scroll floated into his hand from out of nowhere, with official summonings to go to God at once.
Shane stopped what he was doing and stretched, rolling tension out of his shoulders. He had not had a proper break for more than a few minutes in several hundred light years. Not that it mattered, because angels were built for eternal productivity and minimal complaints. He said goodbye to the other angels and flew away to heaven.
God, when speaking, or interacting, used different forms. You always knew it was him talking, though. Sometimes he turned up as a cloud, or nebula, or a little green man for fun. Today, he’d shown himself as an Earthling, with a long flowing white beard, grey linen robes and also holding a very cool looking stick with a sort of tick on the end.
They flew down to Earth, God selecting a grassy spot outside a red brick building that said Hospital in large blue letters.
Shane hadn’t been to Earth in quite some time. He'd gone on holiday to the planet a five hundred years or so ago with JJ, but had to leave due to historical events and him nearly being shot with an arrow. He still felt this had put a damper on the whole trip.
He looked around now. Earth had definitely changed. It was becoming a more advanced civilisation, which Shane thought was pretty cool. He put his halo into his pocket, then tucked his wings neatly into himself and sat down on a nearby bench, trying to look like someone who belonged there, and not a celestial being who had accidentally wandered into modern history.
“You’ve been hard at work in Alpha Centauri,” God said. “I am thankful for it. You can take a break from this, for now, you will be employed as a shoulder angel.”
“Oh. Wow. Thank you,” Shane replied sincerely. Shoulder angel positions were rare and particularly difficult to come by. Shane had never held one before, as he was too busy creating in God’s name. He knew of a few angels who had done shoulder work, and they spoke of it fondly. Almost like a holiday, they said.
But with more moral responsibility.
“Who will the devil be?” Before he even finished saying that sentence, he knew exactly who it would be...
Speak of the devil!
A flash of fire erupted from the ground suddenly, a figure clawing its way out. Lava seeped into the surface of the soil before vanishing, leaving burn marks on the grass. The smoke cleared and Shane saw a very, very familiar devil grinning down at him.
“Hollander!” Ilya Rozanov called out, stepping out of the scorched earth. His blackened sharp claws softened into pink tips, his black horns melted back into his curly hair, and his little devil tail went around his waist like a belt. Then it tucked itself into his trousers. “It’s been a long, long, long time.”
“You again!”
God sighed at the pair of them.
“It has been a while, Hollander. About seven hundred years, give or take. I try not to count.”
“That long?” Said God, turning to Shane. He tapped his stick on the concrete. “I specifically requested Ilya, because he’s your soulmate. I think this job would be more interesting if you spend it with someone you enjoy being with.”
When God made Shane and Ilya, he had filed them neatly under the soulmates register. It made life more interesting, he had said, which was usually how God justified decisions that would later become everyone else’s problem.
God only mentioned it to them when they had been hooking up for a few billion years by that point. It was not something either of them discussed. It was simply an accepted cosmic fact, like gravity and/or poor communication.
The last time Shane had seen Ilya, he had called him an imp. This had been in response to Ilya burning down an entire planet for fun. Burning down a planet for fun, immediately after they had just had sex on it, Shane felt that added insult to injury.
It was justified.
And he had not spoken to him since.
“Come,” said God. “Let us sit.”
Ilya waggled his (forked) tongue at Shane, then followed God over to a bench with a large, very clear NO SMOKING sign bolted to the back of it. God sat in the middle. Shane took the other side. Ilya pulled out his cigarettes and lit one.
God crossed his legs and produced a folder from somewhere inside his robes. “Now, you will both be employed as the devil and angel shoulders for one Hayden Pike.”
“Who?”
“New baby,” God said, pointing vaguely at the hospital. “Born a few minutes ago. His parents have not decided on the name yet, but it will be Hayden. You will help him make the correct choices in life.”
“And what do I get in return?” Ilya asked immediately.
“Freedom to get a hobby,” said God. “I don't fucking know. Here.”
He got out a white folder and handed it to Shane.
On the front, in Celestial Font (size 12), it read: Life Experiences™ for Hayden Pike. Shane opened it up and looked at the introduction:
SHORT SUMMARY FOR HAYDEN ARTHUR PIKE:
Hayden is to grow up to be a good family man. He will come from a large family, and proceed to go on to have a large family of his own with his future wife. He will attend church regularly. He will become a very famous ice hockey player. For more information please see all remaining pages.
The folder is divided into the following: ‘NON-NEGOTIABLE’, ‘NEGOTIABLE’ and ‘DO NOT CHANGE LIFE EVENT EVEN IF ILYA TELLS YOU TO’.
Shane decided to read the rest of The Folder later.
“Cool. What is ice hockey, God?”
“Well,” God said, “you are given a pair of boots with blades on the bottom. They allow you to skate on a flat icy surface. You then receive a stick…” He raised the stick he had already been holding. “…and use it to hit a small object called a puck into a net.”
“I will have to do more research on that, sounds interesting...”
Ilya groaned. “Please no. You will be researching for eternity. Remember when you spent a million years studying architecture?”
“It is nice to have hobbies,” God said. “I am a big fan of war, myself.”
Ilya replied with something vulgar, which Shane ignored.
“I’ll check up on you two every so often,” said God, getting up and stretching. “I have made Earth so that your names fit in as well. Your name will be in Cyrillic, though, Ilya. That means your name will be transliterated inconsistently, and spelled differently on official documents, including French. In the meantime, let’s go visit Hayden on the first day of his life.”
They all changed into nurses’ scrubs and went inside to the hospital. God, because he knew everything, knew exactly where he was going. Ilya, on the other hand, kept getting distracted by the nurses hurrying past, most of whom were very busy and very uninterested in demonic attention at the moment in time.
“Do not tempt them, please,” God said as they stepped into Hayden Pike’s room. “You can do that later.”
A tired but lovely looking woman looked up as they entered. A small chubby face poked out from where he was being held to her chest, in between his mother and the bedsheet. Little Hayden Pike was small, red-faced, and no idea of the amount of celestial paperwork his existence had already generated.
“Hello,” God said pleasantly. “This is baby Hayden, is it not?”
The woman blinked. “I suppose it is.”
Shane held back a smile. Only demons questioned God.
***
They followed the Pikes home sometime later and found the spare room they would be staying in. It was lucky that the previous shoulder angels for Hayden’s parents made sure there was a spare room for Shane and Rozanov to hang out in. The Pikes never saw them because they were invisible, and the family never questioned the fact that there was a random spare room that was always shut in their house.
The first night baby Hayden was home, he slept for a while, then he cried.
And cried.
This was not unexpected. Yes, babies cried. It was how they communicated at being removed from a perfectly warm environment and placed into this cruel world instead.
Shane hovered near the cot, wings tucked tight, watching with the quiet focus of someone who took responsibility very seriously. Ilya was sitting cross legged on the nursery rocking chair, flicking his favourite lighter open and shut out of habit. Mrs Pike was asleep in the room next door, all tuckered out from providing for her new child.
“You are not allowed to interfere yet,” Shane said.
“I am not interfering,” Ilya replied. He clicked the lighter again.“I am observing.”
Perhaps Hayden heard that, because then he started crying.
Shane sighed and gently adjusted the air in the room just enough to be comforting for Hayden. The crying softened, then stopped.
Ilya clicked his lighter shut. “You interfered.”
“I soothed,” Shane said.
Hayden slept.
***
Hayden wouldn’t stop crying or fussing for the first few months. Usually, he was comforted by a member of the family. He was the third child (according to The Folder there would be four, eventually). His mom took Hayden and his siblings on long walks in the park, with Shane and Ilya close by.
Shane was so proud of Hayden at his christening, even though he screamed the place down. The sound echoed off the church walls with impressive stamina. Ilya watched from the window, knowing if he went in, he'd burst into flames. He felt this was deeply unfair, considering the baby was clearly doing more damage to the place than he ever could.
It was hard work for the first few years. Mostly watching and waiting, paperwork, occasional updates for God, and trying not to do much interfering unless it was stated clearly he needed to in The Folder. Shane memorised said folder, highlighting every note and warning. Ilya hadn’t bothered to read it at all. This annoyed Shane because it meant that Ilya was not pulling his weight when it came to Hayden. However, this also meant Hayden was more likely to be influenced by Shane’s good deeds and angelic heart.
***
It then went, over the next few years, from observations to Shane quickly pulling objects out of Hayden’s mouth, to not letting him steal snacks from his siblings. Ilya spilled Hayden’s sippy cup everyday, and Shane had to fix it without drawing attention.
One afternoon, they were sitting by the family dog in the backyard. Hayden was in the sandbox with his siblings, pouring buckets of water into holes to make a miniature beach. God had appeared today as the family dog, crouched at their feet.
“I will be introducing Hayden to ice hockey this afternoon,” said God the Dog. “He’s going to be a member of the Montreal Voyageurs when he is older.”
“In The Folder it says Montreal Metro,” said Shane.
God the Dog wagged his tail. “Same thing.”
“That’s a shitty team,” said Ilya. They’d watched ice hockey with the family about once a week for the past five years. They’d gone to Lac Brome last Christmas, where Hayden learned to skate over the week they were there. He was a quick learner. Shane and Ilya also decided at that time to also reattempt skating - they’d done it last on their fifteenth honeymoon. “He should aim for the Boston Bears.”
“He’s nearer to Montreal than Boston,” Shane pointed out.
Mr Pike came outside at the moment, announcing that it was time for Hayden to start his lessons. His older siblings cheered and they all ran inside.
The siblings all got changed and dashed to the car. God reverted back to Dog and barked as they left. Ilya leaned against the car, cigarette already lit, though Shane was fairly certain it was invisible to humans, but not the smoke. Mr Pike was busy making sure all his children were in their car seats.
“He is going to fall. I guarantee it. And it will be spectacular,” said Ilya, flicking his cigarette away before getting into the car.
“Don't jinx it.”
The drive to the rink was quiet, mostly because Hayden was bouncing in his seat, barely able to contain his excitement. Shane kept one hand on the seat between them to stop Ilya from flicking the emergency brake for amusement.
When they arrived at the rink, Hayden’s older siblings dashed ahead with their own skates, skating circles like tiny tornadoes. Hayden stayed with his father for some reason near a bunch of other children his age. That was when Shane noticed there was a sign by where they were standing for children’s ice hockey introductory lessons.
Ilya grinned. “Want to learn ice hockey?”
“No, we are not children,” Shane said, trying to sound serious. There was a sudden flash of fire, and Ilya transformed into a curly haired five year old with a cheeky smile. His horns and tail vanished completely, leaving him looking deceptively innocent.
“We can’t interact with Hayden!” Shane said after him, his voice tight as Ilya started to walk towards the front desk.
“Does it say in The Folder whether we can or not?” Ilya interrupted, looking up at Shane who was towering over him at this point. “We can be on the other side, away from him. Not a big deal, Shane.”
Shane sighed and rubbed his temples. He had followed Ilya’s antics quite a few times over eternity. Sometimes it had been on planets with ancient civilisations, or it had been holidays full of stardust. Occasionally it ended with them being told off by God, and then neither of them speaking to the other for hundreds of years, then reuniting again.
Shane shrunk down to three feet nine inches, adjusted his angel robes until they were a plain sweater and trousers, and ran after Ilya.
Ilya went straight past and ignored the humans behind the counter, then proceeded to steal a pair of skates. Shane had to make himself visible to interact with the rental skates, fumbling slightly as he paid for both pairs, while the person at the front desk asked where his parents were (he ignored them). He didn’t fill out a lesson form either, because he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to write Ilya’s name (Илья? Ilia? Elijah? llya?).
The children in the introductory lesson had already formed a tight group around the net on the ice, some gripping their sticks like lifelines, or wobbling slightly, eyes wide at the giant ice surface before them.
As soon as Ilya stepped onto the ice, he performed an illegal backflip and landed perfectly before skating away in wide arcs, weaving between the children without touching them.
“ILYA!” Shane shouted, skating after him with arms flailing. “You’re visible!”
Ilya looked around at the children, who were staring at him with mouths open and whispering to each other. “Whoops. My bad,” he said innocently, twirling a little on the spot.
Then, to Shane’s horror, the very worst thing that could happen happened. Hayden skated over, a grin splitting his face and his little legs pumping as fast as they could.
“Wow! That was amazing! Can you do it again?” he asked, eyes shining with excitement.
Shane froze. Were they allowed to interact with Hayden Pike at all?
Ilya blinked, slightly panicked. “Uh. Am I allowed to even talk to you?”
“Huh? What do you mean?” Hayden frowned, as if Shane and Ilya were missing the point of what he asked entirely. “You are here for the lesson like me,” he said simply, holding his stick like a miniature sword and beaming.
Shane felt a deep, familiar dread settle in his chest. He was already trying to plan how he was going to fix this disaster before God found out.
Shiiiit.
“Stop panicking, Shane,” said Ilya. “We’ll sort this out later.”
The teacher blew her whistle to bring them all together and the children went over, forming a loose circle around her. Ilya waved at Mr Pike who was sitting with the other parents, who looked a bit confused and waved back at a child who was not his son. The teacher divided them up into beginners and advanced quickly.
“It feels like flying across galaxies,” said Shane, gliding across the ice. The teacher handed out pucks for the children to hit to one another while many of the others practiced careful laps using the penguin skate aids, gripping the handles on their heads tightly. Hayden had stopped staring at Awesome Ilya entirely and was now hitting a puck with one of his siblings, grinning from ear to ear. Shane hit the puck at Ilya, who stopped it with his stick. “Maybe we should come here often.”
Ilya whacked the puck back at him with a flourish. “We could shut the rink down. I could learn to drive a Zamboni. Or we could use our power to-”
“We are not using our angelic powers and your demon powers to shut an ice rink down,” Shane interrupted sharply, glancing around to make sure no humans were paying too much attention to them. Luckily, they’d gotten over the backflip stunt very quickly.
Ilya gaped at him in mock shock. “As if I would do such a thing.”
Shane knew he would.
“So now we have to encourage Hayden to come here as much as possible,” Shane said, eyes flicking to the boy, who was very happy to be there. They watched as his sibling belted the puck a bit too far away accidentally, near the penguin skaters. Shane was about to move the aides out the way with a flip of his fingers, but remembered he was visible-
A sudden shriek cut across the ice. Hayden had collided with another child and tumbled hard onto the ice, hitting the boards. There was a cry from the other children, and the teacher skated towards him, and his father stood up, checking to see if he was alright.
“Get up, Hayden!” said Ilya, getting there first. “You’re going to be a famous ice hockey player!”
“Shut up, Ilya!”
“Told you he would fall over, Shane.”
“Children, please move!” The teacher gently moved them out the way to crouch down at Hayden.
Hayden’s hands had bent at an awkward angle. His little face was twisted in pain. The lesson that had seemed harmless only moments ago had just turned into a minor disaster.
***
Hayden had broken his wrist.
They spent a few hours at the hospital, with Shane mostly glaring at Ilya while he lounged in the corner, quietly, staring at a wall. Hayden was released in a bright white cast, looking less pale and much better than when they arrived. His parents took him home, and he collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. Ilya watched as one of Hayden’s older sisters teamed up with the youngest brother to scold the second eldest who had accidentally hit the puck into the penguin skaters. The guilty sibling burst into tears and ran out of the room, leaving the other two looking awkward and embarrassed as their parents shouted at them.
Ilya got up, and went into the spare room to join Shane. In the few years they’d lived in the spare room, they had transformed the empty space. It now had a lovely dark blue king-sized bed (Shane put many pillows on it every day before they went out), a mahogany desk Shane bought at auction which they used for never-ending paperwork, a collection of postcards of places they’d gone to with the Pikes, a fridge with ginger ale and Coke in it, a box of KFC Ilya hadn’t thrown out yet, and pinned to the wall was a list of future life events from The Folder that they needed to remember.
Speaking of The Folder, Shane was hard at work reading all 700,000,000 words.
“We didn’t burst into flames speaking to Hayden,” said Ilya. He flicked the door shut, so he didn’t hear Mrs Pike shouting ‘APOLOGISE TO RILEY!!!’ through the walls.
Shane took his reading glasses off. “There’s nothing in the contract saying we can’t talk to him.”
Ilya collapsed onto the bed, kicking Shane gently with his feet. Shane responded by rubbing the arch of his foot. “Relax, Shane. We’ve got time to teach him. For now, I am allowed to be spectacular, and unburnt.”
Shane sighed and turned back to The Folder, flipping pages as fast as humanly possible. Somewhere, he was sure, God was watching and quietly judging, probably with popcorn. “I don’t think we should interact with him that much,” he said.
“I wasn’t expecting him to interact with us,” said Ilya. “But since he did, I am going to enjoy it.”
***
Over the next few years, Hayden became decent on the ice. He attended camps over the summer, practiced relentlessly, and learned to handle both the stick and the puck with impressive skill for his age. He joined the local team who had scouters come to view them occasionally, and luckily, they noticed his talent.
He kept up with schoolwork, earning good grades, attended church on Sundays without complaint, and spent his afternoons when not at the rink riding his bike up and down the street with his friends. Life seemed fairly normal, though Shane and Ilya were always lurking in the background, ready to intervene when necessary.
One day, the Pike children got a PlayStation 2. At first it seemed harmless, but soon Hayden was staying up all night playing hockey games, his eyes red and his concentration flagging the next morning at school. Shane sighed, watching as the boy slumped over his desk, barely able to keep his head up during math.
“We cannot let him ruin himself with this,” Shane muttered. “We have to intervene.”
That evening, a freak thunderstorm appeared by yours truly, and the house experienced a sudden power outage. The circuit breaker blew, taking out both the television and the PlayStation. The parents blamed it on faulty wiring, completely unaware of the angel and demon at work. Once the lights returned, Shane had removed the PlayStation and placed it in the spare room.
Ilya’s eyes lit up. “Finally. Mine now."
Shane muttered something about divine punishment while writing notes in The Folder. Hayden, totally unaware, went to bed that night thinking his console had mysteriously stopped working and his parents put it in the trash during the power outage, completely missing the fact that his shoulder angels had meddled on his behalf.
The day Hayden turned thirteen, Shane found Ilya reading for the first time Life Experiences™ for Hayden Pike.
“What are you doing!?” Shane demanded, eyes narrowing.
“He’s a teenager now. I’m in charge,” Ilya said with a grin, plucking Shane’s glasses off his face and perching them on his own nose to look the part of a serious nerd. “He’s going to skip church for the first time and hang out with me at the rink.”
“What? No!” Shane sputtered, repeating what he just thought. He wasn’t used to Ilya taking the lead over Hayden’s choices.
But according to page fifteen thousand and fifty, there was a clear stipulation about this. Once Hayden became a teenager, Shane was supposed to step back and let Hayden make his own choices, whether good or bad, because that was how life worked.
From thirteen to sixteen, Hayden was still a great kid, but the edges of rebellion were showing. He started drinking too many energy drinks, staying up late on school nights to finish projects or play video games on his Nintendo, and sneaking snacks into his room when his parents weren’t looking. Shane fretted over every little choice, making careful notes in The Folder while Ilya watched on with amusement.
“You can’t let him stay up that late,” Shane muttered, frowning at the glowing clock. It was 1am, and he had school in a few hours. The spare room door was open, and they could see the faint flow of the television from the crack under Hayden's door.
“I already know he will,” Ilya said with a smirk, leaning back on the bed and flicking through a stack of hockey cards he'd shoplifted the other day. “But you can’t stop him.”
Hayden then also started experimenting with his clothing choices, like buying Fall Out Boy shirts, and wearing slightly mismatched socks or putting on two different sneakers, much to his parents’ mild annoyance.
Then he attempted to sneak a girl in, which Shane had to remove from Hayden’s bedroom by setting off the fire alarms.
That night, while the Hayden vs. Parents argument was in place about the girl he snuck in, Ilya rounded on Shane.
“Why did you have to set the alarms off!? Let him fucking live!”
Shane pointed at The Folder. “It says he’s going on a sticky path to get married in a church to a Jacqueline Fischer.”
“Was that not Jacqueline?”
“No, that was Melissa. Jackie’s friend!”
Shane kept tabs on Jackie. She went to a school for girls nearby. She was very nice, and was a perfect match for Hayden. However, Hayden and Jackie seemed to never cross paths. They had friends in common, and were sometimes in each others vicinity (the other day she was in the supermarket queue, while Hayden was behind her. He was buying food with his first money from his first job).
Despite it all, Hayden’s core remained the same: kind and clever. Shane was very impressed with this fine young man.
***
“Good work on getting your first job,” said Ilya when Hayden spotted them at the rink. Shane and Ilya had quietly agreed to stay as ice rink acquaintances only. God had not contacted them about him, so they had taken that as permission and kept going.
Hayden blinked, surprised. “How did you know?”
“You were walking five dogs down the street yesterday,” Ilya said casually. “All different sizes. One of them hated you.”
Hayden laughed, shaking his head as he tightened his gloves and dropped the puck onto the ice. “You seem to know everything about me, Rozanov. I don’t know shit about you.”
“There is nothing of interest,” said Shane from the crease. He dropped into position just in time to block Hayden’s shot, the puck clanging loudly off his pads. Ilya had set it faintly on fire, which Shane ignored out of professional courtesy. “We are not interesting people.”
“I am a devil, though,” Ilya added cheerfully. “We are very mysterious. We are Mr and Mr Mysterious.”
“Shut up, Ilya.”
“Make me.”
Hayden leaned on his stick, squinting at them both. “You two have always been joined at the hip,” he said. “I’ve never seen you separately. I’m pretty sure you guys were here when I broke my wrist as a kid.”
“I was,” Ilya said instantly. “I did a backflip.”
Hayden’s head snapped up. “Oh. Fuck off! That was you!?” His eyes lit up with sudden recognition. “Can you still do one?”
Ilya smirked and, without even pushing off the ice properly, flipped backward in a smooth, effortless arc, landing cleanly on his skates like gravity had forgotten about him, which it had.
Hayden stared, mouth open. “How is that possible, man? Hollander, how is Rozanov not playing junior hockey for Canada with that talent!?”
“Like he said,” Shane replied calmly, adjusting his gloves. “He is a devil.”
“Can you teach me how?”
“You want a broken ankle to go with that wrist?”
Hayden laughed, backing off. “Ha. Uh, no.”
Shane relaxed slightly, watching Hayden skate away with the puck. Ilya raced after him, far too pleased.
***
At 18, Hayden graduated from high school. He had to work extra hard because he’d been working towards his first draft, had meetings with sponsors, and had to miss school occasionally for hockey related travel.
After the graduation, he and his friends went to a club for the first time ever, and Ilya and Shane came along as his ‘friends’, for the first time, away from the rink.
Nobody seemed to notice that Hayden Pike’s ice hockey buddies didn’t go to school, and only mysteriously appeared on ice rinks. It was very obvious Ilya was the one who convinced his friends to go to a club, even the underage ones were able to get in without needing ID to be shown to the bouncer.
They also got all free drinks.
“It’s not every day we party,” said Ilya. His eyes lit up and he pointed a black nail. “Look! Shane!”
Shane looked around. It was Jackie!
“He was supposed to meet Jackie at church!” Shane said, while Ilya pointed his two fingers together to subtly move the future couple nearer to each other. He felt a rush of fear go through hin. “Not the fucking dance floor!”
“But it’s fun,” Ilya said, watching Hayden fall in love at first sight with this beautiful woman in front of him, holding a margarita. “Whatever. Go cry to God.”
Shane stormed out, made everyone move away from the restrooms with a flick of his wrist, and got out his phone and dialled 46663.
“Are you there, God? It’s me, Shane.”
“One moment,” said the cool voice on the phone. It was one of the operators. “Just a sec.”
There was some rustling in the background, and God picked up. He hadn’t seen or spoken to God since he’d appeared as a butterfly recently, asking about a survey on which dates were popular for the upcoming Armageddon. Shane gave him a long, ten-minute heart to heart how they’d secretly guided Hayden over the years, occasionally interacting with him.
“…It says on Life Experiences™ for Hayden, he needs to meet Jackie at church. He met her at a nightclub instead.”
“He marries her in a church, yes.” Shane could hear God opening up his copy of The Folder. “Hmm,” said God. “It says, ‘he’s going a sticky path to get married in a church to a Jacqueline Fischer.’ That’s fine, I think. I know Hayden will be happy in the end with a large family. Sometimes the path is not always clear, my dear Shane Hollander.”
Shane pinched the bridge of his nose. “So the sticky path is a nightclub, God? Really?”
“Sometimes the path has music, lights, and very sticky floors,” God replied. “Trust me, Shane. He’ll figure it out. And honestly… I think Ilya is having fun shaping that path.”
Shane hung up, muttering something about divine patience while Ilya leaned back against the restroom doorframe, smirking like he’d just won the cosmic lottery.
They left the club.
***
2012
Hayden was getting older and didn’t need much help making his own choices anymore. He moved out of the Pike family home and into an apartment. Shane and Ilya now lived down the hallway from him, quietly watching as he went about his life. He spent most of his time away playing hockey professionally, engaged to Jackie after a whirlwind romance filled with cute dates and flowers. He still attended church every Sunday like he did when he was a child, with Shane dutifully and invisibly present while Ilya found other ways to keep busy, like grocery shopping, eating KFC or playing PlayStation.
Meanwhile, Ilya found subtle ways to stir up Shane. He convinced Hayden to buy ridiculous gifts for Jackie on impulse, with the more expensive gifts happening when he was stressed.
They followed Hayden to the ice rink, where he practiced thousands of times throughout the years. But turns out, he wasn’t there to practice today.
He was looking for Ilya and Shane.
“Can you guys come to my wedding? I don’t have your address, you see,” Hayden said, getting out a cream envelope. He was about to get more busy, starting for the season with the Voyageurs (even though he didn't know it yet, but Shane and Ilya had planned to go to every game).
Hayden knew he’d always find them, if needed, at the ice rink they went to when he was a child. Shane hesitated, and then gave him their actual address. Hayden frowned. “…But that’s like three doors down from me?”
Ilya shrugged and grabbed Shane’s hand and squeezed it. “Like we’ve always said, we’re mysterious.”
Hayden handed over the invitation. The word church was printed on it, and Ilya made a small scorch mark on the upper corner with a hiss.
Shane read it aloud, Hayden staring at the smoke, blinking. “Ilya can’t go to that church, sorry. He’ll have to wait by the window.”
“Fine by me. I can wait outside.”
“It’s because he’s a devil,” said Shane. They no longer bothered to hide it. Hayden, of course, would never realise they were telling the truth about themselves.
Hayden frowned. “Has that always been an in-joke?”
“Yes. For all of eternity,” Shane replied.
Had they learned any lessons from being Hayden’s shoulder angels? Probably. Subtlety was key, and meddling could be fun without ruining a life. They had watched a human grow, make mistakes, and flourish, and they realised that guiding someone without being noticed was an art in itself (not that they were good at that, considering they blew their cover years ago).
Most of all, Shane and Ilya had learned that sometimes, being an angel or a devil was more about knowing when to let life take its own course.
***
They said goodbye to Hayden outside their apartment door. Shane was relieved that Hayden hadn’t invited himself in. After all, Shane and Ilya’s apartment was dedicated entirely to keeping track of Hayden’s life (and also playing his old Playstation).
Once Hayden's door clicked shut, God appeared as the outside apartment wall. There was no mouth, just the usual calm, omnipresent voice. “We want you to come to Armageddon,” said God the Wall. “It’s scheduled for the 21st of December, 2012.”
“Hayden has a game against Boston then!” Shane exclaimed, panic in his voice.
Ilya looked annoyed. “Yeah, and I’m busy that day making sure Boston wins. Can you reschedule it? Armageddon - not the game.”
“Hmm,” God said thoughtfully. “The 22nd, the next day?”
“Too early. Any other options?”
God hummed. “There’s another scheduled for the 23rd of August next year, organized by Grigory Rasputin.”
“No. Maybe in a few years?”
“Yeah,” God agreed. “Can do.”
Shane exhaled as a weight lifted off his shoulders. Armageddon was officially rescheduled thanks to one Hayden Pike.
Hayden Pike could continue his life uninterrupted, playing for the Montreal Voyagers, chasing championships, and living the life that had been quietly guided by an angel and a devil making sure he stayed on the right path.
They vanished from the apartment hallway and into their own world, where they didn’t need to look at The Folder as much anymore. They were to leave Hayden to his games, to his future wife, while the universe quietly kept living, content that a small part of it had properly cared for.