falling deeper in love

Mammon had always looked up to Lucifer. His older brother was a paragon of perfection, both as an angel and a demon.

And before, before the fall, Lucifer had loved Mammon back, had given him his time and positive attention, had truly been deserving of Mammon’s respect.

But now there was none of that. All of that attention Mammon so desperately craved went to his brothers, went to Levi, and Asmo, and Beel, and the others, leaving Mammon behind. It wasn’t fair. And nothing Mammon did seemed to help him get it back.

He wasn’t upset at his brothers for having that attention, of course, how could he, when being something Lucifer was proud of was addicting. Being seen as something to be proud of in Lucifer’s eyes was an achievement within itself, and Mammon knew all too well how desperately they wanted to hold onto it.

It hurt, not that Mammon was going to say anything. They were all shit at communication, and anyway, was there even any guarantee Lucifer was even going to listen to him? Yeah, probably not.

So Mammon switched tactics. Before, he had tried so to be good, the best, but that hadn’t worked, and still wasn’t working. So, new plan. If Lucifer wasn’t going to see how hard Mammon tried, should Mammon even try?

No.

Leaning into his sin, Mammon allowed greed to build up inside of him, festering as he continued to foster his new act. There was something thrilling about doing something wrong, something that went against Lucifer’s wishes, and the best part was that it felt so right.

And for a little while, it worked. When Mammon would come home late, smelling like the casinos, Lucifer would look at him, give him attention.

Mammon wondered how fucked up he was. He’d happily take getting yelled at and punished over nothing, and wasn’t that something unexpected.

Some of his other brothers noticed something was wrong, but Mammon was nothing if not stubborn, so he ignored their attempts, proclaiming nothing was wrong, everything was just dandy. They didn’t believe him, of course, but greed and envy are so similar, and the part of Mammon that resented them, the part of himself Mammon hated, allowed him to push them away and move on.

But, too soon, Mammon’s misbehaving became the new norm and Lucifer stopped giving him attention again. Not even when Mammon acted out wildly. He’d just shake his head and sigh, resigned.

And Mammon? Well, he didn’t know what to do. He was caught up in his new life, stuck in a pattern of bad behavior. Did he even want to stop?

He found a sort of ally in Satan who only tolerated him due to their mutual dislike for Lucifer, though most of the time he was barely tolerated. He’d take it though, as it was something, at least.

(At night, once the casinos and clubs were closed and Mammon was left alone in the dark, he hated. Hated himself, hated Lucifer, hated the fall for making him this way. He hated the dark too, which was considered strange for a demon, but Mammon didn’t care, choosing to instead surround himself with bright and flashy lights, keeping those thoughts at bay to the best of his ability.

He didn’t sleep much anymore.)

Then you arrived, and Lucifer’s attention was diverted from his brothers, from Diavolo, and placed onto you. He wanted to resent you.

But he couldn’t, not when you put Lucifer second, and him first. First! He loved it, reveling in your attention, and while it was good, great, there was still something missing. It was lovely, but it wasn’t Lucifer’s.

You seemed to get that without him even having to say anything, but thankfully, you never brought it up, instead redoubling your efforts to show him you cared.

And it was good for a while. Mammon stopped acting out, Lucifer stopped glaring at him all of the time, and everyone was getting along.

Then you had to go back to the human realm and Mammon didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t really want to go out, but he couldn't stay in the house, the dark house, where everyone was mourning the loss of you.

So out he went, back to the casinos that welcomed him with open arms. it felt like coming home, but undeniably hallow.

It hurt.

Everything came to a head when the school council needed to make a decision and Lucifer was in the angel realm. He was unavailable and couldn’t be brought back, and the decision was time-sensitive.

According to Devildom procedure, the next in the chain of command would step in. And in this case, Mammon would, since he was the second eldest. He didn't want to, oh, how he didn't want to, but there was no getting around it.

Considering the case, Mammon ignored all of his instincts and thought about Lucifer. What would Lucifer have chosen?

Making his decision, Mammon waited with bated breath for the whole ordeal to be over.

When Lucifer came back, Mammon said nothing about having to step up, hoping no one else would reveal it either. However, he knew he was out of luck when Lucifer stormed into the living room, eyes glowing red.

“Mammon, how could you have made that decision without consulting me! Even if I was unavailable to come personally I could have advised you what to do, yet you apparently thought you could just go and make the right one by yourself?” Lucifer went in, guns blazing. “It was bad enough that you, of all people, had to take over my position, but to see you have the audacity to think you’re always right?”

Mammon shrunk in on himself. He had been so sure he had made the right decision.

At this point, some of the others stepped in, but Mammon turned tail and fled, finding himself in your old room. It was practically untouched but looked so different.

He wished he could talk to you.

“It’s so unfair,” Mammon started, pacing around. “I try and I try and I try, but it’s never good enough for him! When will I be good enough for him? That’s all I’ve ever wanted and yet it’ll never happen.” Letting out a derisive laugh, Mammon continued. “I dunno what to do, anymore. I mean, is it even worth it to try?”

Sitting down on your bed, Mammon feels his eyes prick. “Of fuckin’ course I’m crying. God, I’m such a weaklin’. No wonder Lucifer doesn’t love me. I practically deserve it. Maybe I should just go. Get out of here and never come back. They’d all be better for it. I’m just taking up space.”

Using his sleeve to wipe his nose, Mammon curls in on himself. “I wish I was never brought to life. Woulda saved us all a bunch of trouble.”

There was a short inhale from the doorway. Mammon looked up, ready to snap at whoever it was to leave him alone, but to his surprise and shame, it was Lucifer.

“What?” Mammon snapped, voice breaking.

“Do… you really think that?” Lucifer asked, and Mammon let out another bitter, tear-stained laugh.

“What do you think? After all, I’ve never been given evidence on the contrary.”

Lucifer stepped into the room, approaching him. “Mammon,” he said, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” Mammon yelled, shoving him away. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

Lucifer’s face showed open, unadulterated surprise. “Mammon, please.”

“What do you want from me, Lucifer?” Mammon was screaming, but he didn’t stop. “You never tell me, yet you always expect me to make the right decision! I’m held to an impossible standard, yet half the time I don’t even know what that standard is!”

“I only hold you to that standard because I think you can reach it,” Lucifer tried, but Mammon cut him off.

“Don’t give me that shit.” Mammon stood. “I’m telling you I can’t! I can’t do it, and I can’t make you love me, and I’ve accepted that!”

“You think I don't love you?”

“Weren’t you listening?” Mammon asked. “Obviously.”

All of the anger drained out of Lucifer’s shoulders, leaving him looking defeated. “I’ve failed you. I’ve failed you as a brother, as a caretaker. If I’ve made you think I don't love you, then I’ve committed a grievous error.”

“What?” Mammon didn’t understand.

“Mammon,” Lucifer said, voice raw. “I love you. So much. And I’m so, so sorry I made you think anything different. I’ve been terrible to you, of course, you think I hate you. Hell, you should hate me. I’m so sorry.”

“You say this but your actions tell a different story,” Mammon accused.

Looking pained, Lucifer took Mammon’s spot on your bed. “When we fell-”

“Nope, don’t want to hear this,” Mammon said, and Lucifer flinched.

“Please, let me explain.” Mammon was grudgingly silent, and Lucifer took it as permission to go on. “When we fell, I felt like I had failed you. Dragged my baby brother down with me, took everything he had going for him and ruined it. I was overcome by guilt, and losing Lilith certainly didn’t help. And Satan sprang to life, and I was completely out of my depth. And you, who was a reminder of everything I had done wrong, were so young. I couldn’t bear to look at you.” Taking a deep breath, Lucifer continued. “I got it all twisted up in my head that you hated me, resented me for doing this to you, turning you into a monster. And then when you began to give into your sin I thought it confirmation of my thoughts. And I didn’t know what to do. Then I began the first of a very long line of mistakes, well, not the first considering everything before this point, but you know what I mean, and it unfortunately led us to here. Here, where you think I don’t love you.”

Seeing Lucifer, who was normally so poised and composed lose that composure was a new experience for Mammon.

“And you seemed to get along well with Satan, and MC, and I felt as if I was not needed. As if I would only make it worse. I see now my inaction was the thing to make it worse. Can you find it within yourself to forgive me?”

Mammon shrugged. “I dunno. We’re pretty fucked up and I don't know if one talk is goin’ to fix it all.”

“That’s fair,” Lucifer responded. “But Mammon, know I am extremely proud of you and your choices and that I love you very much. I’ll definitely work on expressing that. Also, I want you to know you chose right in your decision, and it was unfair of me to assume otherwise, especially when I was unaware of the full situation.”

“You asshole,” Mammon half-laughed, half-cried. “God, you’re such a dick.”

“Yeah,” Lucifer admitted. “But I’ll work on it. Would you like me to take my leave and give you some space?”

“No, dickwad.” Mammon rolled his eyes. “Get over here and give me a hug.”

Lucifer jumped to comply, his arms wrapping around Mammon, holding him tightly. Mammon hugged him back, feeling very much like a little kid but loving it at the same time. Lucifer trembled, and Mammon tactfully didn’t point it out, as he was sure he was trembling too.

After a moment, it became overwhelming and Mammon pushed him off lightly, stepping back. Lucifer’s eyes were red, this time for a completely different reason, and Mammon watched as he wiped at them.

“Let's get out of here,” Mammon said, suddenly feeling kind of weird about being in your room. “Don’t think this is over though. You owe me, big time.”

“Anything,” Lucifer promised, and Mammon heard the finality and certainty ringing in his tone. Lucifer wasn’t known for going back on his word, so Mammon thought maybe things would get better, at least a little bit. At least they understood each other a little better.

“Well, you can start by giving me Goldie back,” Mammon half-joked, blinking in surprise when a gold card was suddenly in front of his face. Taking it silently and shoving it into his pocket, Mammon imagined the possibilities this opened up.

Yeah, he thought. If it all continues this way, things may not be so bad.

[Chat: Mammon, Lucifer]

Mammon: hey lucifer

Lucifer: What do you want, Mammon

Mammon: would it have been better if i died in the war instead of lilith?

Lucifer: [Read]✓

Mammon shut off his D.D.D with a sigh, tears burning behind his eyelids. It got like this, sometimes. The memories made their way into his mind, breaking down the hastily constructed barricade, forcing him to remember, and think, and feel, and Mammon hated it.

Hated how he was supposed to have protected her, protected the rest of them. He was the second eldest yet he had failed them all.

And Lucifer probably did wish he had died if his non-response was anything to go by. Hell, Mammon wished he had died. He wished he was a little bit faster, a little but stronger, a little bit better.

But he wasn’t.

And he had to live with that, live with all of the ways he had failed. Even when he was fine, he wasn’t.

Powering his D.D.D off fully, Mammon placed it on his nightstand, rolling over on his bed. His pillow was cool, thankfully, and Mammon buried his face into it, quickly answering the siren's call of sleep.

*

When he awoke, it was to hands on him.

“What the fuck,” he asked blearily, shoving whoever it was out of his space. “Who’s there?”

“Mammon,” Lucifer breathed, sounding on the brink of- of something. “You’re alright.”

“Of course I am.” Rubbing his eyes as they adjusted to the dim light of his room, Mammon glared at Lucifer. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Lucifer echoed, sounding crazed. “Why wouldn’t you be? Well, I got a really concerning text message from you, then you didn’t pick up any of my calls, and then you wouldn't open your door. Of course, why wouldn’t you be alright?”

“Whoa, Lucifer,” Mammon held a hand up, slowly growing more and more concerned. “I was just sleepin’. Chill out.”

“I will not chill out!” Lucifer poked a finger into Mammon’s chest. “I thought you had- had-  done something to yourself! Something bad. God,” he said, hanging his head down. “You scared the shit out of me, Mammon. You can't just do that.”

“You thought I tried to kill myself?” Mammon surmised, eyes wide. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“I don’t know!” Lucifer put a hand on Mammon’s shoulder and only then did Mammon realize he was gloveless. “But your text… Mammon, why would I wish that? I would never want that. I didn’t want Lilith to die, obviously, but I would never wish it was someone else instead of her!”

Lucifer’s tone cracked and Mammon’s throat thickened.

“How long have you thought like that?” Lucifer asked and Mammon shrugged.

“I dunno. But it’s the truth. I shoulda died instead of her. I should’ve protected her! I’m her older brother! I should have been there!” Mammon scrubbed at his eyes.

“And I’m your older brother!” Lucifer’s tone rose into a cry. “You think I don’t wish it were me? You think I don’t know I should have protected her? But god, Mammon, it shouldn't have been you. It should never be you!” Crushing Mammon in a hug, Lucifer threw himself on top of him.

“Jeez, okay, I get it,” Mammon said, awkwardly still. “Ya made your point.”

Eyes burning into Mammon’s, Lucifer tried to stifle the shake in his shoulders. “I’m not sure I did, so let me say it again. No, Mammon, it would not have been better if you'd died instead of Lilith. In any circumstances. And please, please tell me when you’re having thoughts like that, or someone you trust, at least. And don’t scare me like you did. Mammon,” Lucifer paused, breathing heavily. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Any of you, sure, but you’ve been there the longest. You’re my constant, the one thing that keeps me grounded. I don’t know if I could have managed to get us to this point if you were gone instead of Lilith.”

His frankness was surprising. And hard to hear. For the longest time Mammon thought Lucifer didn’t love him, didn’t need him, didn’t want him around. And now he was learning it was the exact opposite? It was a lot to take in.

“I’m sorry I scared ya,” Mammon managed, finally hugging Lucifer back. “And I’m sorry I thought that.”

“No, don’t apologize for that,” Lucifer said. “I’m sorry for not noticing you felt that way. For making you feel like that in the first place.”

“S’alright.” Mammon bit his lip. “You never were the best at communicatin’.”

Lucifer huffed out a wet laugh, forehead pressed against Mammon’s shoulder. “You got that right. Maybe we both need someone to talk to.”

“Like a shrink?” Mammon raised an eyebrow.

“A therapist wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Lucifer said. “It’s obvious we all have stuff to work through. Can you honestly say any of us are coping? Are healthy?”

“You’ve got a point,” Mammon sighed. “But-”

“There’s nothing shameful or bad about going to a psychiatrist,” interrupted Lucifer. “It doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you, or that you’re sick, or fucked up, or whatever you’re thinking. It means you want to get better. It means you want more tools to help you.”

“Alright,” Mammon agreed. “But I’m not doin’ family therapy or any of that crap, got it?”

“That’s fine,” Lucifer soothed. “I want you to be comfortable and have a safe space. Your well-being is most important to me right now.”

Wow, have I ever been his first priority before? Mammon thought sarcastically, then felt a little bad about it.

“Okay. I’ll give it a try. But you should too.”

“I will,” Lucifer responded, standing up and stepping back from Mammon. He’d never seen him so disheveled, so imperfect. “It’s going to get better, alright? Let’s get better.”

“Okay. Okay, let’s do it.” Mammon’s stomach growled audibly. “But first can I get some food?”

That broke most of the lingering tension, making Lucifer chuckle. “Food sounds pretty good right now. C’mon.” He offered his hand to Mammon, and Mammon took it, the covers falling to the ground as he stood.

Feeling his bare skin was weird, but nice. Mammon scrounged up a smile, and Lucifer mirrored it, an edge of desperate relief still clinging to the edges of it.

Mammon’s stomach growled again.

“I was serious about that food,” he said, prompting them into motion.

“Me too,” Lucifer said, but it seemed as if he was talking about more than the promise of a meal.

Mammon placed his head on the student council desk, desperately trying for relief. It was sweltering in the room, or maybe it was just him, but anyway, he felt like he was dying and hoped the wood would be cool.

It was, blessedly so, and Mammon sighed, melting. The meeting was almost over, he could make it, he had to make it. He already had two strikes for the semester, and the third would kick him off the student council, which was unacceptable. Even though he really didn’t contribute much or help with anything, all seven of the Demon Lords serving as part of the council were incredibly important to not only their image but the Academy’s as well.

Or that’s what Lucifer said, anyway. Mammon had an official title but everyone knew he was just there because he had to be, including him. He had no doubt that if he were to actually do something he’d only screw it up, so maybe it was better he didn't do anything.

The desk was already uncomfortably warm. Licking his lips, Mammon sat back up, maybe a little too fast if the way his head spun was any indication. Grimacing, he wished he had something to drink.

The minutes passed, dragging. He couldn't focus on whatever the council was discussing, glad his input didn’t seem to be needed. His head throbbed, pulse uneven in his ears, and he wondered if it would be better to just call it quits and take the punishments that would come from leaving.

A quick, severe look from Lucifer was enough to quell that line of thinking- it was almost as if he could read Mammon’s thoughts, something that truly terrified him.

Oh shit, Mammon thought. Can Lucifer read my thoughts? Is he reading them right now? Oh, god- When he looked at Lucifer, he wasn’t looking back, instead shuffling some paper in his hands, but that didn’t mean much. If Lucifer could read thoughts all this time, he must have had a lot of experience playing it cool.

I’ve got to stop thinking about Lucifer, Mammon told himself queasily. Focus on something else, goddammit. So focused on being focused on something else, he missed the first two times his name was called.

“Um, yes?” Mammon yelped, trying to sit up straighter, even as he only wanted to curl in on himself.

“We wanted your opinion on the topic at hand,” Diavolo explained slowly, and Mammon swallowed, throat thick.

It felt like there were thousands of eyes on him at once, making it hard for him to breathe, let alone put together a coherent thought. “I, um.” Through it all, was Lucifer, who was already frowning, no doubt disappointed in his fumbling. “I agree with Lucifer,” he finally said, deciding that was a safe enough choice. Diavolo’s brows raised, but he said nothing, thankfully turning to another council member.

Mammon instantly slumped, keeping his mouth firmly closed as his stomach churned. Why, today of all days, did the meeting have to be running long?

Thankfully, the meeting wrapped up soon after that, though it still felt like an eternity for Mammon, who just sat there and prayed he wouldn’t be called on again. Everyone got up to leave around him, but he struggled to muster up the strength to move, eyes fixed on the wood of his desk. He was almost afraid of standing- if just sitting up had made him this woozy, was it even worth it to try and stand?

Before he could come to a decision, feet appeared at the edge of his vision, a familiar pair of shoes coming to a stop next to him. Lucifer. Mammon couldn't even bring himself to look up. He had a moment of gratefulness for the gothic way the Academy was still lit; if they had any brighter lights Mammon didn’t know what he’d do.

“Mammon, what is the matter with you? First, laying down on your desk during the meeting, then not being able to add your input, and now, dilly-dallying? Seriously, I thought you knew you were on thin ice.”

Mammon could barely get his mouth unstuck enough to respond. “Didn’ matter anyway,” he managed, and Lucifer’s feet shifted slightly.

“Whatever do you mean?” Though his voice was still cold, there was a thread of exasperated confusion in it.

“My input. It’s not like- like it’d be listened to anyway,” Mammon slurred. “Doesn’ matter. We all know I’m only here for show.”

“Wha-” Lucifer started, but before he could fully get the word out, Mammon turned and threw up all over the shiny black shoes that were still in his field of vision.

Dimly, Mammon remembered that Lucifer was a sympathy puker before his vision faded out at the edges and he found himself slumping down on the desk once more, consciousness quickly waning.

*

Mammon drifted. Once, when he awoke, he was in a car. Then, a bed. Not his bed, he didn’t think- grey sheets were totally not his style. There was always someone with him, much to his surprise, and sometimes, even multiple people.

Most of the time, it was Lucifer. Lucifer, wiping a cool rag across his face, Lucifer holding his hand, Lucifer smoothing his hand through Mammon’s sweaty hair.

“Hmm?” Mammon said blearily. “Why’re you here? Doncha have m’re important things to do?”

He heard Lucifer sigh, but his eyes kept going in and out of focus so it was hard for him to tell exactly what his expression was. “Then take care of you?” Lucifer responded, voice quiet. “Never.”

Mammon drifted after that, but he thought he could feel leather, like a glove, on his forehead, smoothing between his brows.

When he awoke again, he was hot. Unbearably so. If he thought it was bad back in the council room well, that was nothing compared to this.

“Hot,” he gasped, barely able to speak, and in an instant, cool hands were on his face. He pushed up into them, eyes still closed, whining. He whined louder when they disappeared, but sighed when they came back, this time sans gloves.

“Fuck,” the voice- it was so familiar -cursed. “Shhh, it’ll be alright.” Mammon tried desperately to open his eyes, but he could only manage a few bleary blinks before his eyelids got too heavy again. “I’ve got to get you cooled down.”

Mammon didn’t care what happened to him as long as those hands were on his face, thumb ever-so-gently scraping across his cheekbone.

“Asmo!” he called, the loudness making mammon wince. “Sorry, sorry,” the voice said, contrite. A moment later another voice joined the original.

“Yeah?”

“Get your bath running,” the original said. “Warm water.”

“Shit, okay.”

A moment passed before Mammon felt himself moving, arms moving under his legs to hold him steadily. His skin was sticky with sweat, pajama bottoms uncomfortably plastered to his skin.

“I’ve got you,” the voice promised, then Mammon was lurching, stomach swooping at the feeling of being lifted up. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Whoever was holding him was doing a pretty good job of not jostling him, and he didn’t know if he passed out again or what, but before he knew it, Mammon was being set down in something freezing.

“No,” he cried, trying to struggle. His limbs were too heavy to move. “’M cold. ‘M cold!”

“It’s okay,” the voice soothed, but Mammon felt no solace in it this time. His teeth were chattering. “I promise you, the water is warm. I’m just trying to get your fever to break.”

“What happens if it doesn’t?” Another voice asked, and the person lowering him into the water paused, thankfully, though Mammon was still doing his best to worm his way out of his grip and out of the cold.

“Then we take him to Diavolo,” the first voice eventually answered, dipping him in another few inches. Mammon’s breath was coming in gasps, and he could faintly feel tears sliding down his face.

“It’s okay,” the first voice said again. “Goddamnit. Beel, hold him a moment.” Larger, rougher hands replaced the ones on his body, but not for long. Someone was entering the cold with him, blessedly warm against him. Mammon found himself in someone’s arms, and the last little bit of logic left in him told him it had to be the first voice’s.

He was bare-chested, a lot warmer than the cold, so Mammon tried to burrow into him, still crying.

“I know, I know,” the voice said again, brushing his hair back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Let it all out.” Eventually, Mammon cried himself into exhaustion, once again succumbing to unconsciousness, still cold.

*

“Fuck,” Mammon hissed, throat scratchy. “My head hurts like a bitch.” Prying his eyes open, he had to blink a bunch of times before anything came into focus.

“How’re you feeling,” Lucifer asked, surprisingly not chastising him for his language.

“Bad,” Mammon said flatly. “Water, please?” The cool edge of a glass pressed against his lips, and Mammon focused on taking tiny sips, still putting everything together in the dim light.

“What hurts?” Lucifer asked, and Mammon managed to turn his head so he could look at him. His oldest brother had changed out of his uniform, for once wearing something that looked decently comfortable. He also had dark, dark rings around his eyes.

“Head,” Mammon repeated. “And throat, mostly.”

“Okay, that’s good.” Lucifer pressed his hand to Mammon’s forehead, giving him some intense déjà vu. “Your temperature is much better than before.” Then, quieter, “I thought your fever was never going to break.”

“How long?” Mammon asked, clearing his throat. “Has it been, I mean?”

“Since you passed out the first time? Three days.”

“Three days?” Mammon echoed, disbelief coursing through him.

“Yes. What do you remember?” Lucifer asked, dark eyes fixed on him.

“Not much, honestly,” Mammon said, straining to pull up memories. “I’m assuming I was asleep a lot.” A memory- or a hallucination -of him sobbing in a bathtub, curled up in who he thought was Lucifer’s arms surfaced. God, he was never bringing that up, not if he could help it.

“I expected as much.” Lucifer hesitated. “You said some… concerning things.”

“I did?” Mammon asked, confused. “Like what?”

“Well, you kept insisting I ‘had better things to do’ than watch you, and you talked about not feeling like you contributed much in terms of the student council, among other things. You said you were only there for show.”

Shit, shit, shit, shit. Mammon was always a sick-talker. “That was probably just my fever-addled brain,” he tried, but he could tell by the set of Lucifer’s shoulders the lie wasn’t going to fly. Sighing heavily, he shakily brushed his hair back. “Look, what do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know!” Lucifer was surprisingly fierce. “I don’t know. Maybe an explanation, for starters? Then an answer as to why you didn’t call in sick for the student council meeting?”

“Can we not do this right now?” Mammon asked. “In case you forgot, I’m still sick. And I didn’t leave the meeting because it’d be my third strike and I’d disappoint you, okay.”

“Mammon, it’s okay to be sick! That’s not the same as skipping out or coming late. You wouldn’t have gotten in trouble for that!” Lucifer leaned over him, their foreheads almost touching. “I hate that I made you think putting yourself in danger was a viable option when compared to disappointing me.”

“Danger?” Mammon cut in. “It was just the flu.”

“I thought you were going to need to be hospitalized,” Lucifer said, point-blank. “If your fever got any higher it could have done some serious damage. I was-” he broke off, actually touching his forehead to Mammon’s then. “Next time, please, take care of yourself. Please.”

“God, fine.” Mammon swallowed hard. “But I’m alright now, okay? And you look like you should take a nap or something. Have you not slept?”

“No,” Lucifer answered, voice raw. “I was afraid if I left your side you’d die.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mammon breathed, unsure how to take that. “Well, I’m good now. So go, sleep.” But Lucifer didn’t move. “Fine,” he grumbled, and Lucifer’s eyes cracked open. “If you’re that worried about leaving me then I’ll scoot over. but seriously, you need sleep. You already compromised your immune system by taking care of me, and a lack of sleep will only continue to weaken it.” As he spoke, he moved himself over, trying to make room for Lucifer without making a big deal out of it. As he did so, he realized he was in Lucifer’s room, on his massively large bed, and it looked like he’d been there for a while.

“Okay,” Lucifer said. “Okay, I can do that. We’re still going to talk about the other stuff, though, but fine, we can do it later.” With jerky movements, he peeled the covers back, slipping under them next to Mammon. It was a little awkward being to close, but Lucifer seemed like he’d fall apart if Mammon moved away, so he just laid there, painfully aware of every spot Lucifer's body touched his. As they laid there, Lucifer began to settle, and eventually, he actually did fall asleep, curling into Mammon’s shoulder as he did so.

Mammon couldn’t help but put his arms around him. Lucifer must have been really rattled. He didn’t really know why, but it was whatever.

Still recovering from his illness, Mammon soon drifted off too, also curling into Lucifer as he slept.

*

When he awoke, it was with several more of his brothers in the bed and a pain-free head. Lucifer though, was still asleep, clinging to Mammon’s now dead arm. He couldn’t find it within himself to move.