Work Text:
“You're a fucking scumbag! Where the fuck is it?”
One of the decorative tables went flying into the wall, breaking instantly.
Lucifer sighed. “Satan, control yourself. Mammon, return his book.”
“I already told ya, I don’t got it!” Using the couch as a barrier, Mammon defended himself both physically and verbally.
“Don’t tell me you sold it already!” Satan cried out in despair.
“Are ya kiddin’? Books don't sell for nothin’! I’d only even look that way if it were one’a the rare magic ones!”
“Then where is it!?” Satan picked up the standing lamp. Ripping the cord from the wall, he chucked the whole thing at Mammon, who ducked back behind the couch.
“I don’t even read for fun! Why do ya think I took it?”
“Because you’re a greedy asshole who doesn’t care who he hurts if it satisfies himself!”
Mammon froze. He felt the words pierce, as Satan denied any love Mammon had ever shown to him. The shock gave way to anger. “I may be a greedy asshole, but ya got no right to say I don’t care!”
“I can say whatever I want! You constantly take shit, and make problems for everyone else.”
“Satan!” Lucifer snapped.
Mammon thought his older brother was finally going to back him up, but that feeling didn’t last long.
“Put that down! That was a gift from Lord Diavolo!”
Mammon took the opportunity to make his exit before he did something stupid. Like beat the shit out of Satan. Or yell at Lucifer. Or cry in front of them.
He ended up crying in his room instead, but at least no one was there to mock him. Tears blurred his vision as he picked up a bottle of cologne, one of the ones he hated, but took just because.
Throwing it as hard as he could was cathartic. The sound of shattering glass was cathartic. He picked up another bottle. Another stupid steal. Another thing he had just because he wanted it.
Again and again the glass shattered, falling to the floor in satisfying disarray. The jagged pieces lying in the growing puddle reflected the lights in his room. It was a chaotic mess, and it was beautiful.
He slid down the wall, staring at the destruction. The fumes were overwhelming, and nauseating, but he deserved it for being a piece of shit.
If all of his brothers agreed that he’s a scumbag, then maybe he was. Mammon didn’t like math unless money was involved, but he could see that he was the most common whatever it is.
It wasn’t his first time thinking that, but it is what caused the wailing. Cries so loud and desperate, he hid them in his arm, trying to dampen the noise. Insecurity that manifested physically, making him shake.
He didn’t realize that any time had passed until his tears finally stopped and noticed he was on his side, eye level with the broken glass across the room. He was tired. He was tired.
Looking at the clock on his DDD told him he missed dinner. He really didn’t feel like going up there right now, but he was also really hungry.
Pushing himself to his feet, he took slow steps to the bathroom. Exhaustion pulled at every muscle, and he couldn’t wait to lay down after he grabbed a snack from the kitchen.
He splashed water on his face to get rid of some of the blotchiness, but it didn’t really work. Then he remembered his brothers wouldn’t care anyway, so he dried his face off and left his room.
From the kitchen, he could hear the sounds of a videogame with the volume too loud. Cutting through the noise, he could hear MC’s triumphant laugh.
He needed her. Just for a minute. Even if she was just pretending, she treated him like she actually liked him.
She made him feel like he was worth caring about, and he needed her. Just to look at her. Just a glance from the doorway, and he could go to bed.
He made his way quietly to the common room with his cup-ramen, and stood just out of sight, listening to the laughter and taunts coming from the room.
He peeked his head just barely around the door, looking to spot MC.
Lucifer spotted him instead. Stupid white hair.
“Mammon, go back to your room.”
Mammon felt angry, but it quickly simmered to just hurt. He stepped into view. “Yeah, I was gonna. Just seein’ what all the noise is’a ‘bout.”
“Now you’ve seen. Goodnight.”
MC spoke before Mammon could even turn to leave. “Why does he need to leave?”
“He’s in trouble.”
Her beautiful brows furrowed in confusion. “What? Why?”
Lucifer looked exasperated. “He stole something again. A book.”
“No, I didn’t!”
“Shut up, you fucking scumbag, no one believes you!” Satan felt the need to interject.
His heart sank. He was about to turn around to go back to his room to cry more when he caught sight of MC’s horrified expression.
“Did it have a sword on the cover?” She asked, urgency in her tone.
Everyone turned to look at her.
“A blue book with a sword on the cover! Is that the book?”
Satan looked surprised. “Yeah.”
MC stood, tossing her controller onto the floor and ignoring Levi’s shouts of concern and cries about being careful. She was gone for less than a minute before she came back, holding a blue book.
Satan looked even more surprised. “Oh, you had it? Thank y-”
Before he could finish, she threw the book at him, her whole body putting force into the throw, causing her to stumble forward with the effort.
It hit Satan right in the face, and he fell back into the couch comically. He looked up, confusion mixed in with the surprise.
“Thank you!? You’re going to thank me!?”
Satan sputtered. “Am I not supposed to?”
“You called Mammon a fucking scumbag when you thought he took it, but he didn’t! But now that you know I did, you’re not angry?”
Satan looked upset. “You didn’t mean to steal it, you probably just saw how intriguing the plot was and-”
“I don’t give a shit about the plot.” She snapped. “You left it on the coffee table, and there was no bookmark, so I put it in the library where books go. Did you even check the library?”
Based on his expression, he hadn’t.
“So you just assumed Mammon took it. Even though he said he didn’t.” It wasn’t a question.
“He could have been lying.” Satan said defensively.
“But he wasn’t.”
“This time.”
Before MC could respond, Lucifer spoke. “You have to understand, MC, Mammon has a reputation for stealing things. If something is missing, it’s usually because he took it. Mammon has no one to blame but himself for any accusations he receives. Guilty or not.”
MC stared at him. “You have your pride.”
“Excuse me?”
“You have your pride. And when you’re upset, it makes you feel good when you assert control over others.”
“I see what you’re getting at, but Mammon can’t just steal things to “feel good”.” Lucifer responded, exasperated.
“He steals things to feel better. Beel eats to feel good, and you scold him, but mostly let it go. Mammon takes something and you yell at him. Call him names.”
“It’s not fair for him to affect the rest of us!” Asmodeus unhelpfully chimed in.
“But it’s your fault! You insult him and stress him out! He takes something to feel better, and you yell at him again! You’re perpetuating your own cycle!”
“Are you suggesting we just allow him to steal our things?” Lucifer asked, appalled.
“I’m suggesting you give your brother some grace.”
No one had anything to say to that. MC took Mammon’s arm and led him away. He was silent, shocked that she had come to his defense.
They went down to his room, and he paused in front of the door, remembering the mess he had made, but MC reached past him to open it.
The smell hit them immediately, so strong she had to cover her nose. Cologne filled the air, making them both a bit dizzy. She took a step in, assessing the mess.
Silently nodding to herself, she left Mammon standing in his doorway and went down the hall to the laundry room. She came back with an armful of dirty towels.
Mammon watched as she soaked up some of the pool of chemicals. When it was no longer a small lake, she began to gather the bigger shards of glass, throwing them in his trash can.
He finally snapped out of it, and began to help her mop up the rest of the cologne and sweep up the smaller pieces.
Even when the mess was gone, the smell remained, so she opened the garage door, trying to air the room out.
“...Do you want to talk about it?”
Instead of talking, he wrapped his arms around her, seeking her comfort. Holding her tightly, he rested his head on top of hers.
“...Mams?”
“I just… Why’d you hav’ta go an’ tell ‘em off? I just decided that I’m the problem, an’ now you got me second guessin’ myself.”
She pulled away to look up at him.
“You’re not the problem. I mean, yeah, no one likes their shit taken. And yes, there is a problem- it is a problem. But you are not.”
Mammon was silent. He'd never been told that, and still wasn't sure it was true.
“If I cause a problem, how am I not the problem?”
Still hugging him, she sighed, thinking for a moment. “If you knock over a glass of water, the problem isn't that you knocked it over, the problem is that there's water everywhere.”
Mammon reluctantly pulled away from her, not feeling worthy of comfort. “If I throw cologne bottles, the problem may be the mess, but I still caused it.”
Still trying to think, MC sat down on his bed. “It's complicated, Mams. You don't do any of this maliciously. Even the cologne… Being upset is not malicious.”
“Those weren’t even my bottles to throw! To break!” He gestured to the place the broken glass had been.
“Do you regret stealing things?” She asked flatly, like she knew the answer.
“Every time.”
“Then you have a problem.”
“The problem is me.”
“Mammon, it’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“If you can fix the problem, work on making yourself better, it’s not you. Narcissists don’t know they’re narcissists. Alcoholics know they’re alcoholics. There’s a difference between having a problem and being the problem.”
Mammon really thought about it. He didn’t hate the stealing, but he hated the thrill he got when he succeeded in taking something that wasn’t his. He hated that he got joy from actions that hurt others.
He guessed a bad person wouldn't feel that way. So he started to believe her. A little bit.
MC shivered a little. Airing out his room had kind of worked, but it also let in the cold night air of the Devildom. Mammon grabbed a blanket from the couch and sat next to her, wrapping the fabric around her shoulders.
“...Did I thank ya for helpin’?”
“No, but it’s no big deal. It was just glass.
“I wouldn’t have been smart enough to use dirty towels. And then Lucifer woulda yelled at me for wastin’ clean ones.”
“You are smart, Mams.”
“Nah, I’m not. I’m failin’ all’a my classes.”
“There’s more than just book smarts.”
“Maybe…”
As he trailed off, MC looked at him. “Do you really believe what they say?”
“ ‘Been sayin’ it for millenia. You're the first to say otherwise.”
MC was silent.
“There ain’t a lotta reason not to believe ‘em. I do take their shit.”
“...Do you believe me?”
Mammon hesitated. “I believe… That ya ain’t lyin’ to me.”
“Good enough… I’m not.” She paused. “And what I said was probably true… About perpetuating a cycle by yelling at you. But I shouldn’t have assumed you take things to feel better.”
Mammon thought about it. “I guess I do. I never really considered it before… Are ya sayin’ ya made that up?”
“Kind of. It’s basic psychology. But also I mostly wanted to make them feel bad for how they treat you.”
He thought about it some more. “I think you’re right. About tryin’ to feel better. But not all the time.”
“I don’t know how your sins affect you, but it’s not fair to blame you more than they blame anyone else. Beel, Belphie, even Satan gets cut some slack when he loses his shit over something stupid… Like a book going missing.”
Mammon laughed. “His face when ya hit him with it was hilarious.”
MC grinned. “I’m just glad he didn’t try to kill me.”
“Bet he feels real stupid now.”
MC flopped backwards onto his mattress, looking at the ceiling. “He deserves it. Shouldn’t have accused you.”
“Nah, Lucifer’s right, I got a reputation.”
MC couldn’t argue with that, even though she wanted to. “He should have listened when you said you didn’t take it.” She compromised.
They were both quiet for a while. MC wanted to let Mammon process his feelings, and when he was ready, he spoke. “...MC?”
“Yes?”
“Would ya still say all that if it was your things I took?”
MC took a moment to think about it, which Mammon appreciated. It meant she was actually forming an opinion and not just placating him.
“...I would be upset. But I stand by what I said. You are not a problem.”
“I am a demon, ya know.”
“So are they. There’s something in the Bible about casting the first stone, right? There is so much you do that makes life better for them. Things they don't realize. Things they don’t thank you for. I realize.”
She sat up, grabbed his hands, and stared intently into his eyes. “Thank you.”
Mammon’s eyes widened before they filled with tears. He looked away. “Whad'ya doin’, thankin’ me for?” He mumbled.
He pulled his hands away to wipe at his tears. “I guess the fumes are still hangin’ out in here. Got my eyes waterin’.”
MC watched lovingly as he pretended not to be affected by her words. “When I first got here, I was terrified, but you saw that. You stopped trying to scare me, and started trying to make me more comfortable… In your own way.”
“You’re always trying to make everyone happy. I can see how much you care about their feelings, and I think you think that If they’re laughing at you, at least they’re laughing.”
“Nah, I don’t care’a ‘bout those dumbasses. Ya don’t know me.” His voice shook.
Inside, his thoughts were quiet, yet running all at once. He does care, and she does know him. How does she know him so well? She was beautiful and perfect and too good of a human to have anything to do with him, but she wanted to.
It all surged into one overwhelming desire, and even if it was uncharacteristic of him, he wanted to do it. He needed to.
MC found herself knocked backwards, and she was once again staring at the ceiling. She looked down at the weight on her chest, and her surprise shifted to a soft smile when she saw the white hair in her vision. She brought a hand up and slowly began to stroke his head as he held her tighter and sobbed into her chest.
When his tears slowed, and then stopped, he pulled away. “...I got your shirt all wet.”
“It’s okay.”
He got up and went to his closet, returning with one of his shirts. “Be grateful ya get to wear one’a the great Mammon’s shirts.”
He wouldn’t look at her, and just held it in her direction. She took it, and changed right there, seeing as he was refusing to turn his head anyway.
“…I don’t deserve ya.”
She grabbed his hand. “If that were true, I wouldn’t hang out with you.”
He finally looked at her, his face puffy and eyes red.
“You're my best friend, Mams.”
He stared at her, not moving. Not breathing. She was so beautiful, and angelic, and too good for him, but as he studied her face, memorizing this moment, he remembered his earlier thought: She wanted to. She wanted to be around him. She wanted to comfort him while he cried, and hold him close and reassure him.
For the first time, he was grateful he fell, because otherwise, he would never have met her.
“Yeah. Count yourself lucky that ya got a friend like me down here.” This was punctuated with a sniff, and MC couldn't hide her giggle, which made him chuckle, and soon, they were both laughing.
When they composed themselves, he sat down next to her, and laid his head on her shoulder.
“...Your ramen’s probably cold.” She said, looking at the cup he had put down while they cleaned.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.”
“I can go make you some more.”
“Nah, I’m more tired than anythin’.”
“Lay down. You can sleep.” She said in a comforting tone that almost made him start crying again.
“I don’t want you to leave.” He mumbled, he didn’t even realize he’d said it out loud until she brought her hand up to stroke his head again.
“I won’t. You can sleep.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her down so they were laying down. He pulled his blanket over them both, and held her tightly, snuggling in like she was a teddy bear.
MC shifted so she was more comfortable, and continued to play with his hair as he drifted off.
Mc wasn’t really tired, but as she lay there, listening to Mammon’s even breathing, she felt herself relax until her own eyes slipped shut.