Chapter Text
They didn't think much of it at first.
Why would they? It was just the brothers having another silly little competition for their approval, it barely registered in their mind.
It certainly wasn't anything new.
They'd been sincere in their answers to those who'd expect a serious answer and to the ones they knew would need it, while they'd replied more playfully to the ones they knew could handle it. As far as they were concerned the topic was over, and the brothers would easily move on to something else.
Right?
The first sign that something wasn't right was during breakfast the next morning.
Mammon had slinked into the room, much later than was usual for him, settling into his seat with none of his usual bouncing-off-the-walls energy, and resolutely avoiding eye contact with anyone at the table. He toyed at the food on his plate, ignoring the daily jabs by his brothers with a lowered head until they had eventually gotten tired and moved on to Levi as their next target.
To their own much softer inquiries he had answered with noncommittal grunts, his shoulders rising up to his ears with each of their questions, until they too had slowly stopped. Put off my his unusual discomfort.
With a screech of his chair, that had put a stop to any other ongoing conversations at the table, he left as quickly as he had come. The sound of the front door opening signaling he'd left the house entirely, presumably to RAD.
"Lol," Levi said, glad to get the attention off himself, "what's his problem?"
"He was probably out all night again," Asmo replied, a sweet smile in place, "gambling, drinking. You know how he is."
"Maybe he hasn't been sleeping again," Beel said, quietly, eyeing Mammon's still full plate.
"It's probably just the witches again," Satan says with a sigh, already looking bored with the conversation.
"You should walk with us today," Belphie said through a yawn, staring at them with tired eyes as they passed Beel Mammon's plate.
"Sure," they reply, trying to stamp down the knot of worry blossoming in their chest. They let their gaze dart to Lucifer, as conversation begins around them again, trying to catch his eye. But he remains staring straight ahead at the shut door, the slightest furrow between his brows.
It was all fine.
Right?
Something was wrong.
They were sure of it.
Mammon had been suspiciously quiet the whole day. He'd kept his head firmly lowered during class, his jaw tight as his hand flew across the page taking down notes that he'd usually borrow from them.
They turned down to their own notes.
Empty.
Hell was definitely freezing over.
He was avoiding them.
They were sure of it.
During their shared break they had rushed after him, elbowing through the crowded halls and daring to sneer at any demons who complained. They had much more important things to worry about than getting eaten alive.
Even with their use of excessive force, Mammon had managed to lose them and they resigned themself to sulkily sharing lunch with the angels and Solomon.
Maybe Mammon wasn't the only one who was a little too attached.
They were worried.
The knot that had formed at breakfast had grown and tightened until it threatened to suffocate them. They were anxious. Restless. Unable to shake the thought that something bad had happened. Something awful, terrible, devastating had happened and hurt Mammon. And they had missed it. Someone had hurt Mammon and now he was shying away from them. And they had missed it.
Some best friend they turned out to be.
They paced in front of his last class, five minutes before it was set to finish. Should they be here? Should they be doing this? Were they pushing him too far?
On a normal day Mammon needed to be pushed towards more sincere conversations.
But today.
Today wasn't a normal day and they still weren't sure how one must deal with this softer, quieter Mammon that popped up whenever someone managed to find a chink in his armour. A weak link that a knife or a harsh word could easily slip through. Could easily cut into the soft flesh hidden underneath his hard exterior.
They shook their head in a futile attempt to rid themself of that horrifying imagery, vowing to find out who had hurt their First Man and fight them. Be it Lucifer or a witch. They were not a violent person. But for Mammon? For Mammon they could try.
They are startled out of any more elaborate plans of vengeance when the door next to them opens minutes before Devildom History is scheduled to finish.
Mammon slips out.
He looks tired. Their chest tightens.
"Mammon?" They don't mean for their voice to come out like that. Soft. Unsure.
Mammon startles, whipping his head around towards them, and blushing.
"Hey," he said, his voice rougher than it should be.
"Hey," they echo back.
"Liste-"
"Is something wrong? Are you ok-"
"No."
"What..."
"No, nothin's wrong. Just busy ya know," he shifted his weight, hand clenching on the strap of his bag, "Look I've gotta go."
They wanted to move closer. Wanted to cup his face, feel that unnatural warmth under their palms, see the mischevious light dancing in his eyes. They didn't think they would be allowed to. Not right now. So they ask, "Another gig?"
"No. Library."
They blink. Surprised. "Oh...that's-"
"Surprising. I know. Didn't think I could read huh?"
And for a second his face looks cold and hard. And for a second he looks nothing like Mammon. And then it's gone. His face folding into something so deeply hurt it causes tears to prick at the corner of their eyes but before they can open their mouth, before they can reach out to him, he's shuffling back, looking dejected.
"Sorry," he says quietly to the ground, "didn't meanta snap. Head home with the others, I'll catch up with ya."
He raises his head to flash them the smallest of smiles before he's turning around and walking away. And they're left standing there, in the middle of the hallway as students start to flood it, feeling like they've let something incomprehensibly precious slip through their fingers.
He doesn't catch up to them and he doesn't come for dinner, which passes as an unusually sombre affair.
Hours later, in their room they hear Lucifer yell at Mammon for missing dinner but by the time they make it to the hallway he's gone, leaving only Lucifer behind.
Lucifer looks as disgruntled as he'd ever let himself look, eyes distant, noticing them only when they call out to him.
"Where's Mammon?"
"His room."
"Oh. Did - is he okay?"
Lucifer looks over at them, his eyes softening, "I don't know. Whatever it is he'll get over it. He only needs time." And with that Lucifer turned to leave, fondly ruffling their hair on the way up the stairs.
They watch him leave.
Time.
Time.
Time.
Time does nothing and they're almost tempted to scowl at Lucifer even as his own mood seems to have worsened over the last few days.
Mammon has yet to break free from this new quieter creature that now inhabits his body and the rest of the brothers have descended into various states of agitation.
Three days later and the mood at breakfast is tense and deadly. The plates are cleared within minutes as everyone scrambles to get to RAD as fast as possible without having to walk together.
They eventually leave as well, tagging along with Beel who seems to be the least affected by the suffocating gloom that had descended on the house. Beel's appetite, however, while still nowhere near that of a regular demon's had diminished from his usual standards, so maybe that was all the more telling.
"It's because of Mammon." He says quietly, as if reading their thoughts "they won't admit it but Mammon being upset is upsetting everyone else. You too." He glances at them before turning his eyes back on to the sidewalk in front of them. "You should talk to him."
"Why me?"
"Because he'll listen to you."
"Oh."
"Get him something to eat too. He hasn't been eating much."
"Okay."
"Okay."
"Thank you, Beel."
He looks back down at them, smiling kindly but not saying a word.
The walk to RAD passes in comfortable silence.
'Hey Mammon?'
No.
'Hiii buddy!'
Ugh
'Are you okay'
No.
I'm scared. I'm terrified that someone hurt you and I didn't notice and that's insane isn't it you're thousands of years old you survived so long without me you can handle yourself but I'm worried because you're acting weird and the others are acting weird because they're worried too and you're avoiding me and I miss you I miss you so much mammon and I don't like seeing you hurt and I'm scared I hurt you did I hurt you mammon pleas-
Nope. No. Too much.
They frantically delete the unsent text until they were once again staring at their blinking cursor. It was exactly twenty minutes since dinner had finished meaning Mammon must be in his room and it'd be so easy to go to him. To talk.
But.
But they were being a coward.
Angry at themself, they scrolled through their previous messages, unable to help the smile that formed at his responses right up until they came to their last chat and oh.
Fuck.
Shit.
Fuck.
They were an idiot, weren't they?
It takes them less than a minute to get to Mammon's room and three whole minutes to debate whether they should knock.
They don't. Instead they push open his door, like it's any other day, like he has absolutely no reason to hate them.
"Mamm-" they pause, as he leaps off his couch, sending papers flying, staring at them with horror.
His eyes are swollen and red and he scrubs at them frantically, even as he tries to will his voice into something close to his usual, "what's up?"
And they're stumbling on their own feet, as they kick the door shut behind them and sprint the remaining distance, leaping over his coffee table and slamming into him with a bone crushing hug.
They take a shuddering breath. Breathing him in. He smells like coffee and something distinctly metallic. He smells like Mammon. Familiar. Safe.
They hug him tighter, even as he yelps and squirms. He feels warm and solid in their arms. They were so fucking stupid.
"Hey," he says oh so gently, placing his hands on their shoulders and prying them away, "What's wrong? What happened? Did anythin' happen? Who hurt ya? I swear ta - someone, are ya okay? If ya not I'm gonna-"
And they're laughing. Hysterically. They hurt him. They made him cry. Made him withdraw from all of them. And he was worried about them. Was ready to go fight on their behalf. They were so fucking stupid.
And so they laughed and laughed and laughed, until tears were pouring from their eyes and their body was shuddering. Until he pulled them close and threaded his fingers through their hair while his other hand rubbed at their back.
They burrowed their wet face into his neck and sobbed their incomprehensible apologies while he whispered his own for not being there. For not protecting them. For whatever that had hurt them. For a crime he did not commit.
And they hated this. They hated being vulnerable in a world where anything and everything could kill them. But for Mammon? For Mammon they could try.
With one last shuddering sigh, they move back, wiping off their face in their sleeve, they give him a small smile, "Sorry."
"What was that for?" He asks, worry still as apparent.
"Guess I just missed you."
"What!" He startles, flushing, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
"We all missed you Mammon."
And he frowns. Face closing off. "Don't. I'm not- I know. Jus' don't okay. Don't lie to me. Please. Okay?"
"I'm not- Mamm- I'm not lying Mammon! We missed you, we all missed you so much. And I'm - listen I'm sorry. God- shit sorry- fuck I'm sorry about everything. I didn't think and I was so fucking stupid and that's not an excuse Mammon, it's not but -"
"What the hell are ya rambling about?"
They stop to stare at him again. His features are closed off but they see the uncertainty, the hurt, swirling within.
"The text. I'm sorry I called you an idiot."
He snorted, looking away. "Wha's wrong with that? It's the truth ain't it? You know it. They know it. I know it. I just thought maybe you'd-" he cuts himself off.
He's still staring away but his eyelids flutter rapidly, trying to starve off the tears, and they're taking a step forward cupping his cheek and gently turning his face towards them. Until they have direct view of his face. The wet blinking beautiful eyes. The trembling lips. The heartbroken expression.
Oh.
Oh no.
Their own heart twists. How could they ever- They swallow past the lump forming in their throat, thumbing away at an escaped tear, as he unconsciously leans his head in to their palm.
"I don't want you to pity me," he says softly, "I don't want- look I'm tryin' okay. I'm tryin' but it's hard but I'm gonna keep on tryin' then you'll - they'll - I don't wanna be scum anymore. I don't like- it's not like I try ta be a problem- I just- I'm tryin'- I really am- don't wanna be stupid or worthless or useless or-"
And they watch in horror as he he breaks off, sobbing in earnest now, using his hands to press at his eyes. Trying to preserve that last shred of dignity.
They pull him down on to his couch, their own damp cheeks forgotten even as their heart breaks and their mind screams yourfaultyourfaultyourfault. Taking hold of his arms, they carefully lower his hands before bringing him towards them. Letting him settle into the crook of their neck and stroking through his hair the way they know he likes.
Ignoring their own blurred vision they clutch him closer to them, wanting more than they can physically understand to take away all his hurt.
"You're not an idiot Mammon. I was just- I was being stupid." Hearing the start of a protest they say, "No. I was. Just listen. I'm- No. Wait. Let me just. I take it back. You are an idiot."
He tenses in their arms, shifting to try and move away, but they only hold on tighter.
"You're an idiot like Lucifer is an idiot for thinking Cerberus was an intimidating name and didn't just mean Spot. Like Lucifer is an idiot for thinking he can handle everything on his own. Like Levi is an idiot for sleeping in a bathtub. Like Levi is an idiot for thinking he's worth any less because he's an otaku. Like Satan is an idiot for thinking a murder scene was the time to start geeking out over some fictional detective. Like Satan is an idiot for thinking he has to always compare himself to Lucifer. Like Asmo is an idiot for spending four hours in the bathroom every morning. Like Asmo is an idiot for thinking people won't love him if he wasn't pretty. Like Beel is an idiot for drinking the detergent again. Like Beel is an idiot for thinking the things that happened in the past were his fault. Like Belphie is an idiot for sleeping through three days. Like Belphie is an idiot for thinking Lucifer no longer absolutely adores him. Like I am an idiot for trying to pet Cerberus.-"
"YOU WHAT!?"
Mammon jerks away from them, eyes wild but no longer tearing, taking them in frantically as if he had previously over looked any missing limbs.
They can't help the soft but bright laugh that slips out. They love him, don't they. What else can this warm, fluttering, all encompassing, terrifying feeling be.
They cup his face again, making sure he's staring straight into their eyes when they say, "Like I am an idiot for thinking you already knew how much I treasure you."
He squeaks, jerking back in surprise but they press on, "You're an idiot for keeping a car in your room," ignoring his indignant protests, "You're an idiot for thinking anyone of us doesn't adore you just the way you are. For thinking that Lucifer isn't proud to call you his brother. That you weren't the only demon Lucifer could ever trust to look after a human for Diavolo. That Levi doesn't envy you. That Levi doesn't resent your charm and your energy, so much that he doesn't see his own. That Satan doesn't look up to you. Doesn't base his own self control off yours. That Asmo wouldn't be bored without you. That you aren't the only one who can keep up with Asmo's kind of fun. That Beel doesn't love you as much as he loves all of us. That he doesn't go out of his way to spend time with you. That Belphie doesn't know just how important you really are. That Belphie doesn't know how you're what's holding us all together."
He's crying again. Silently this time. Tears slipping down his cheeks as he stares at them with wide eyed wonder. Sparkling with laughter or shining with tears his eyes were as beautiful as ever. Though they knew which one they'd prefer.
They lean forward to press a gentle kiss onto each eyelid, smiling as he whines and leans into them when they move back.
"You're an idiot for not realising how absolutely brilliant you are. How I would be dead if you weren't there."
They use their hand to brush back his soft bangs, watching as his bright eyes track them. They love him. They love him like this, soft, vulnerable and needy, hanging on to each of their words with a single minded sort of desperation. And they'll love him when he's back to being the Mammon they're more familiar with. The Mammon who is loud and energetic and obnoxious. The Mammon who is kind and caring and giving. The Mammon who is greedy and possessive and demanding. The Mammon they can always depend on to be by their side. The Mammon who took his responsibility over them more seriously than they could have ever imagined. The Mammon who was comfortable and safe. The Mammon who was their partner in crime, an idiot and kind of an asshole.
Because it was Mammon, this strange, complex being that had readily latched himself to them that they were completely and unashamedly in love with.
They press their forhead to his.
He presses back.
Their hands clutch at each other.
"You're an idiot for not realising how easy you make it to fall in love with you."