Chapter Text
Time waits for no one. It's an overused phrase that humans love to throw around, and Mammon is sick of hearing it. What's time to an immortal?
In his time, Mammon has been many things. A clumsy guardian angel who wants to do his best. A lively angel who loves in earnest. A fallen angel who is so, so tired of it all. A greedy demon who wants anything that catches his eye.
Humans can't, will never, come close. To them, time slips away like money at a casino, gambled with and tossed without a care until it becomes a burden at their deathbed.
And yet you've known him in every stage of his life, as if your fates are intertwined like the bundles of rope hidden in the living room closet. As you stand in front of him, he sees a rush of memories he swore to forget, tugging at his chest and leaving a sting in his throat. He sees how you look exactly as you have before, how your eyes burn with the same curiosity as they did when you first met and it’s all so sickeningly, unbelievably stupid.
"I guess this is my home now," you say, taking slow steps into the middle of your new room. "Feel free to go if you're bored."
No, he wants to say. Not again. Not after—
"Gladly," he blurts out instead, "the Great Mammon's had enough of a human wastin' his time."
You give him an odd look, but make no move to reply. Mammon sighs and turns to the door with three curses on his lips: one for your audacity to come here, one for Lucifer assigning him as your impromptu-babysitter and one for the stars' decision on this cruel twist of fate.
With a deep breath, he lays his head against the wall next to your door and closes his eyes. Why couldn't you have been reborn as a cockroach?
It all starts at a time when humans paint their faces and live with tools crafted from stone.
Humans are weird, Mammon can’t help but think as he watches you hobble across a dirt path, carrying a rock almost half the size of your body.
The archangels would tell him off if they could read his mind, but… it’s true! They’re like angels, except they don’t have wings. They’re like angels, except they can’t use magic. They’re like angels, except they smell funny, eat strange stuff, fight a lot and call each other names! It’s no wonder that the Celestial Realm decided to send their own to assist humans. Who knows what sorts of things they’d get up to if they were left alone?
Lucky for you, that’s exactly why Mammon is here. Centuries have passed since his birth; he was always too young for any serious jobs, so the majority of his time was spent pouting as he waited for Lucifer to return from his duties. Thankfully, those days are over… and ever since he stepped into the human world, he became a very, very important angel! No longer will it be Lucifer, the Morning Star and his younger brother. Instead, it’ll be Lucifer, the Morning Star and Mammon, the Guardian Angel.
A massive grin breaks out on Mammon’s face when he remembers the moment he accepted his new role. The memory makes him feel warm and fuzzy, especially when he recalls just how proud Lucifer looked. There’s a lot about the world that Mammon doesn’t know, but one thing is certain: he loves his brother, Lucifer. Although he has the appearance of an adolescent human, Lucifer never fails to move with an elegance that even older angels have trouble emulating. There’s always a pleasant, soothing lilt in his voice, almost as if every syllable he speaks holds a fragment of heaven.
…Well, that’s what Michael says. Mammon doesn’t really know what half of that means, but he doesn’t need any fancy words to describe Lucifer. His brother has the most beautiful wings he’s ever seen, and he loves it whenever he gently drapes them around him, soft feathers tickling his skin and making him laugh. He loves hearing Lucifer’s stories, whether they’re exciting tales and legends or simple snapshots of his day. What he loves most, though, is when Lucifer showers him in gifts and praise. Michael always chides him, saying he’ll spoil Mammon. Really, though, it makes him feel so happy! What’s so bad about that? If anything, he wants to spread the same happiness he feels receiving Lucifer’s gifts to others. His assignment as a guardian angel is the perfect opportunity!
Or so he thought. Daydreaming about how you’re going to protect humans is one thing. Actually seeing them? Eep!
“Humans are just like us,” the archangels said. They may look similar, but humans are big and mean and scary, even if they don’t have angelic powers!
“Humans need our guidance,” the archangels said. This, at least, is right.
“You’ll love your human more than anything in the world,” the archangels said. Although Mammon could come to believe all the other points, he was and still is sceptical of this one. Is it even possible to love a human more than his own family?
His eyes trail back to you. Your chest heaves as you struggle to carry the stone, feet digging into the ground with each step. Even though you’re a small child, your footsteps leave a deep imprint behind you, littering the ground with an awkward pattern weaving in and out of the local wildflowers. He can see your soul glow a faint yellow, pulsing with every beat of your heart. Mammon purses his lips and follows you, avoiding detection by hiding behind nearby bushes, even if the archangels made sure that he knows the invisibility spell inside and out.
“There is one thing you mustn’t do,” he recalls Lucifer saying before his descent into the human world, “you mustn’t reveal yourself to humans. If it is unavoidable, then at least conceal your wings.”
The rule doesn’t really make sense to Mammon, but Lucifer has never betrayed his trust. He knows his brother is right—he always is. That’s why he stays silent as you heave and pant, finally coming to a stop in front of a large tree that casts a shadow upon anything in its vicinity.
You grunt as you drop the stone and walk away from it with your back turned. For a few moments, all you do is inhale and exhale, eyes squeezed shut while you collect your breath. He sees you stand still, start to sway and…
You’re falling. A sharp gasp falls from Mammon’s throat as you collapse, head right on course to collide with the stone. Only an hour has passed since his arrival at earth—how could this happen so fast?! It’s like time slows down as Mammon leaps from his hiding place, arms stretched in a desperate attempt to catch you. He whispers a spell under his breath to slow you down, praying that it’ll work. With a thump, your body lands in his outstretched arms and he finds himself being unceremoniously pushed onto his bottom.
“O-ow…” he groans. It takes a second for his head to stop spinning before everything sinks in. He feels himself tremble as he looks down at you but, thank goodness, you’re all right. Your chest rises up and down in slow motions, and when Mammon places a tentative hand above your heart, he feels a rhythmic beat against his palm.
At first, he stays like that. The steady rhythm of your heart soothes his own nerves. His gaze falls to your face—eyes closed and lips murmuring something unintelligible—and you almost look peaceful, as if you hadn’t just narrowly avoided a catastrophic crash… honestly! What were you thinking?! If he wasn’t there, then… then…
Mammon gives his face a quick slap. If he’s to be a good guardian angel, he should anticipate things like this. After all, humans need to be guided and protected—it’s a fact that the archangels made sure to drill into his head.
“I’ll protect ya,” he whispers, setting your head on his lap with a gentle touch. Did that sound cool? He hopes it sounded cool. Truthfully, he hasn’t got a clue what he’s doing… but this scene reminds him of countless times where he would fall asleep to the sensation of Lucifer stroking his hair. In those moments, he always felt safe. Protected. He hopes that you feel the same, although you can’t see him yourself.
He spots a small smile forming on your lips, and he feels his own twitch upwards. Maybe… maybe looking after a human won’t be so bad after all.
Days turn to weeks that span into months. Unbeknownst to you, Mammon is with you every step of the way. He watches you run around your village, dance in the forest like nobody’s watching and carve nonsensical writings into random walls. He learns everything there is to know about you, from what food you like to who you get along with. He learns the reason why you were so intent on dragging that stone along with you; there are worries that a neighbouring village may one day attack your own, and you don’t want to stand idle. He sees the pain in your eyes transform into a fiery determination, striving to grow stronger to protect the ones you love. In fact, he can envision himself in your place, training himself so that he can one day work hard enough to let his brother lie back and put his feet up. Humans aren't so different from angels, he can’t help but think in those moments.
Whenever you shed a frustrated tear or nearly collapse from fatigue, he’s quick to rush to your side and whisper words of encouragement into your ear. It makes him smile to see your troubled face turn calm, or to see the furious flames in your eyes whittle into harmless embers. Sometimes, he even finds you helping other humans, mostly lending a shoulder or a friendly hug. Every day, Mammon feels the connection between you two strengthen, and your soul seems to thrum whenever he’s close. There are times he laughs at the jokes you make to yourself, then the awkwardness of no one being able to hear him sinks in.
He wonders if there’ll be a day when you can talk to one another, not as a guardian angel and their human, but as friends. What a wonderful day that would be…
But as it is with many good things on earth, there’s a downside to being a guardian angel. All his life, Mammon has been surrounded by his loving brother and other friendly faces. Even if he hadn’t physically been in the same room as someone, he had known that just one step outside would welcome him to sincere greetings and welcoming faces. Here, though?
He’s alone. In the human world, he can’t stroll up to anyone and start a conversation. Never would he have thought that he would miss being subject to Simeon’s doting or Michael’s non-stop lectures. He longs for the ethereal gardens of the Celestial Realm, the magnificent choirs of angels, the tranquil sun grazing his neck, the world he calls home…
By his seventh month on earth, the isolation has eaten him up enough that he has to take a moment (or two or three, human time works so strangely) to himself. He steps out into the circular clearance of a forest, the one area untouched by spindly trees or overgrown bushes. The moonlight reflects a pale spotlight onto the ground, though there’s nothing to highlight apart from a few small rocks sitting atop the worn dirt. Mammon closes his eyes and sits down, taking in a deep breath. The archangels have prepared him for a myriad of scenarios in the human world, but not one of them deals with the loneliness that keeps chipping away at him. Familiar images of the Celestial Realm and the angels he loves so dearly flash in his mind, causing the pangs of sadness in him to fuse together and something in his chest to tighten.
Above all, though, he misses his brother. He misses Lucifer’s gentle voice reading him a bedtime story. He misses Lucifer’s rare but charming laugh. He misses Lucifer stroking his back, planting a soft kiss on his forehead as they drift asleep, and he misses Lucifer shaking him with a poorly-concealed huff when he snores too loud.
He isn’t surprised when the first tear drops from his eye. Of course, he sniffles and wipes it away, but his eyes don’t get any drier. What surprises him is how the wings he’s spent so long obscuring decide to emerge from his back, causing glimmers of light to fall onto the ground and paint a shimmering picture like stardust beneath his feet. When he was much younger, his wings sprouting due to intense emotions was a bad habit that Lucifer worked hard to remedy. This problem hasn’t happened in centuries…
His eyes dart around in the night to find somewhere to hide. Panic settles in him when he hears nearby footsteps—anywhere will do, he just needs time. Time that grows shorter as the footsteps get closer and closer. Now that his wings are showing, Mammon has no doubt that anyone could see him. He starts to shake and hugs himself, trying to close himself in his wings in an attempt to mimic who he loves most, but they come short, unable to meet each other.
Luci, where are you? I…I don’t know what to do…
He looks down with a silent prayer. Is it possible for guardian angels to have guardian angels of their own?
The sounds cease. Mammon’s breaths are short and quick.
“A-are you okay?”
He’s heard the same question from the same person for months by now. It’s a question that not a lot of people can answer. “Don’t,” he says, head hanging low, “don’t look at me.”
…It’s also a well-known fact among angels that humans never do as they’re told. You circle around him, and he can see your feet after you step in front of him. He tenses as you raise your hand towards him.
Your voice is softer than he’s ever heard it. “Don’t cry,” you say, moving one of your hands to brush a lock of hair behind his ear. Mammon sits still, words caught in his throat as he watches you wipe his tears with your thumb.
“You…” he hiccups, unconsciously leaning into your hand, “you shouldn’t be here.”
“This is my home,” you shush him.
Mammon stays quiet for a moment, forcing himself to return his breaths to normal. He feels his wings twitch, and your eyes follow their movement.
You gape, drawing an astonished sound from your mouth. “I’ve never seen anyone with wings before! Are you a bird-boy?”
“What?” Mammon blinks, baffled. The momentary shock is enough to stop his hiccuping.
“A bird-boy,” you repeat without any hesitation. There’s a spark in your eye, one that he only sees when you’re in a good mood.
“S… Seriously?” he huffs before he tears himself away from you and stands. A forgotten tear glints on his cheek as he points a small finger at you. “I don’t have a beak, and ya sure won’t find me eatin’ worms for breakfast! I’m your guardian angel!” His wings spread out in a second, summoning a tiny blast of wind when he flaps them.
He isn’t really sure what to expect when he says that. Will you thank him immediately for everything he’s done, or will you run back to your village screaming? Ah… he’s really done it this time! He’s gone and done the one thing Lucifer told him not to. He can already imagine the punishment set up for him—the other angel children love to make messes in their rooms, and someone has to clean them up…
What he doesn’t expect, however, is for you to stare back at him with a blank face.
“You’re a guardian what-now?”
“A guardian angel. Y’know, I gotta look over and protect you from bad stuff,” Mammon turns his finger from you to him and smiles proudly, “remember the time you fell down a slope but somehow got out? I pulled ya back up!”
“That was you?” your expression changes from one of indifference to amazement. “I was… I was so scared.”
Oh, he knows that well. You were alone that day, whistling a peculiar melody as you hopped across a muddy path. One slip was all it took for you to go tumbling down a nearby slope, leaving no trace apart from a surprised yelp that cut through the forest. He can’t forget the sight of your hands shooting up, desperately grasping at the air to no avail. Mammon flew down in seconds, gripping your cold hands in order to yank you up, feeling his wings beat against each other as he struggled to carry you somewhere safe with grit teeth. Thankfully, he was able to drop you safely, however he couldn’t help himself from collapsing onto the ground, slathering his pure white wings with mud. He remembers grumbling at the unwanted splash of colour, but as he looked up to see your body—drenched head-to-toe, but still breathing—he felt all his misery disappear.
(Well, most of it… after all, the one thing angels took pride in was their wings! And his were filthy!)
“Mhm,” he closes his eyes, sensing the unease fade from his shoulders, “I’m glad you made it out okay.”
His only response is silence.
“Um, did I say someth—oof!”
The air is forced out of Mammon when your small arms wrap around him in a tight embrace. You press your forehead against his shoulder, and he can feel your shuddering breaths. Startled, Mammon’s head snaps down to look at you, and he’s met with the sight of you quivering, even though the night breeze has never been particularly chilly in this area.
“Thank you,” you gaze up and break the silence, “thank you, thank you, thank you…!”
Mammon’s cheeks flush red in embarrassment. The gratitude doesn’t feel bad, though… “I-it’s fine,” he mumbles, “I’d let my brother down otherwise.”
“Then, thanks to your brother too,” you say. Mammon has watched you for seven months—he could spot you in a bustling crowd no matter the location. But he’s never seen you up so close, and he can feel his breath hitch at you smile. “I hope we can be best friends, guardian ayn-jell.”
Friends?
Mammon has plenty of friends in the Celestial Realm. Most are around his age; they spend their time playing games and murmuring about the archangels. “What did they do?” they’d ask, peering over a fence to watch angels return from the human world. They’d spill their theories in hushed whispers, but the sheer number of them would cause enough of a commotion for an older angel to interrupt and scold them for spying on others.
Best friends, though? Lucifer is his best friend, Mammon thinks. No one else knows him better than his big brother, and no one else comes close to making him feel as happy as he does. Then again… Mammon doesn’t have any friends of the human variety. Maybe there’s room for one more…
“Okay,” Mammon says, repaying your smile with a grin, “from now on, we’re best friends!”
It turns out that being best friends with a human has many merits! Whenever you dance around, Mammon hums an accompanying tune, though it always ends up breaking into a fit of giggles when you alter it to make him laugh. He observes your training, gives you pointers if needed and sometimes even uses his magic to create make-shift obstacles. While your scribbles still make little sense, he recognises one depicting a line with two white blurs extending from it. You give him tasters of your favourite foods—angels don’t really need to eat, but the gesture makes him feel warm and some flavours leave him smacking his lips.
The people in the village change like leaves on trees through the seasons. Some venture off into places unknown, while others remain at your birthplace. Mammon stays by your side as you face the good and bad of childhood; he wanders in your dreams, fending off monsters to plant pleasant sights and sounds that make you smile in your sleep. During your roughest days, he leaves a trail of feathers that lead to his favourite spots in the human world, all places he knows will soothe you. He hovers next to your ear, giving you hints about good deeds and helping others.
Sometimes, Mammon wonders if he’s doing his job right… no, scratch that, he always wonders if he’s doing his job right. There was a time where the tears wouldn’t stop flowing from your eyes, so he hugged you in a panic and managed to whack your heads together. The abrupt action halted your crying, though it created another problem. Mammon was mortified—close to tears, even! He was only copying what he had seen from Lucifer… though, now that he thinks about it, their height difference isn’t exactly the same as yours…
And yet, in spite of the pain you must have felt, you burst into laughter. Your shoulders shook as you laughed, letting your forehead fall gently against Mammon’s. He watched in silence, taking in your closed eyes and toothy grin. When you opened your eyes to look at him, he felt heat rise in his cheeks.
“Everything happens for a reason,” he remembers Father saying. You make him feel warm and safe and happy. He can’t help but wonder that if maybe, just maybe, you’re his own guardian human.
But ever since that moment, Mammon has been finding his job really, really hard! When you’re asleep, he usually takes time to think about the Celestial Realm and pray that his brother is all right, but now his thoughts always come back to you, wondering what you’ll do tomorrow and how he can make your day. When you say his wings are pretty, he has a sudden urge to look at the floor even if it makes him smile. When the two of you lie with your backs on the grass, gazing up at the human night sky he loves so much, he finds his eyes being drawn to you. Which, by the way, is super weird! There aren’t sparkling stars or a great big moon on your face. And as cool as it would be, he’ll never see a shooting star soar across your face either. Despite that, he can’t stop himself from looking at you, the delicate moonlight illuminating your features as you point out constellations he’s never heard of.
“You’re not a bird-boy anymore,” you say out of nowhere one night, arms crossed behind your head, “you’re more of a tomato-boy now!”
Mammon puffs his cheek out, “I-I’m neither! I told ya, I’m a guardian angel… and that doesn’t even make sense!”
He hears you shuffle closer to him. “But wouldn’t it cool to be a vegetable? I wanna be a piece of broccoli. I’d be a baby tree,” you blabber on, and your childish rambles go in through one ear and out the other. All Mammon can focus on is how close you are and the ever-shortening distance between your hands. He feels himself smile… then catches himself, because what in the three realms is he smiling about? Ugh! It’s all so confusing!
Mammon turns to look at you. He doesn’t really get what you’re talking about (aren’t baby trees just trees? What makes them broccoli?) but he doesn’t question it and nods, adding in his own comments from time to time. The topic shakes up a bit when he mentions the food in the Celestial Realm, and he can feel his chest swell at your impressed expressions as he chatters about his home.
As the conversation trails off, Mammon feels himself relax into your side. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, minutes passing as you stare at the sky. You turn your head to the side to look at Mammon with a smile, and his reflection in your pupils is one captured in wonder. It feels all too natural when your fingers close the distance and intertwine.
“Hey,” you whisper, “I really, really wanna see your home. Can we go one day?”
If he was human, Mammon would grin and say “of course!”. He’d want to take you there straight away and would make it his duty to share stories about his big brother—the two of you would get along so well! He’d reiterate all his favourite things about his home, from the fluffy clouds at the entrance that tickle his feet to the eternal, radiant sun that casts a divine glow on anyone who passes by. He’d sing all his favourite songs to you on the journey there, laughing and smiling as you dance along.
But out of all the things Mammon can be, a human isn’t one of them. He can reveal himself to as many humans as he wants, play their games, hide his wings and he’ll still be an angel. For a human and an angel, there’s only one way he can see you in the Celestial Realm. You are so young, perhaps matching what he is in angel years, and the implication is one that he cannot bear.
“Um,” he starts to fidget, “one day. But not for a long time.”
“Why?” you say immediately, and he doesn’t need to look at you to know you’re pouting.
“Because…” he says, feeling something in his throat, “there’s so much to see here already. We need to explore everything before ya even think about my home!” He dares to sneak a glance at you, and he’s met with your raised brows and lips in a thin line. “It’s… it’s hard to leave where I live. If you visit, we’ll be together for a long time.”
You tilt your head, humming. “That sounds good to me. We’ll be friends forever.”
Funny. What forever is to a human is what a day is to an angel.
“…yeah,” is all he can muster. He clutches your hand tighter.
When you grip his in return, all the fuzzy feelings come rushing back. He gulps, suddenly very aware of how close the two of you are. His face heats up, and he starts to move back—
“See!” you cup his cheek with your other hand, “you’re a tomato-boy!”
Mammon splutters in denial, though it falls upon deaf ears as you grin and coo at him. If this had been the day you met, he’d scream, beg and pray for Lucifer to take him back. But now, watching your sunny face and feeling the warmth of your hands on him, he can’t say he minds all that much. In a sudden moment of clarity, Mammon realises he wants to stay here.
The days fly by, and Mammon watches from afar as you carry on with your life. He pitches in every now and then, but he finds that there’s been less of a need to these days. Your soul glows a pure white that shimmers and rivals his own wings, growing brighter with every choice you make. Even though a small part of him is itching with worry, he trusts you enough that most of his time is spent alone. You rush to the aid of others without his input—seeing you live in such a way fills him with joy!
Though, if he’s being completely honest, there are times where he feels… lonely. Watching you thrive and grow while he stays behind and barely ages is becoming more painful each day. He knows he shouldn’t feel this way—he’s a guardian angel! He’s supposed to feel happy! But sometimes it’s like you don’t need him anymore, like you’ll mature until you’ve had enough and leave him behind.
It’s a cool spring night when Mammon sees a pure white feather float into your room. For a second he’s just confused, his wings haven’t been out in weeks… then the sight of a familiar head peeking into the room answers everything.
“Luci,” Mammon gasps, and he jumps up from his spot on your bed, “Luci, you’re here!”
For a second, his brother’s eyes flick to you, but in the next he’s looking back at Mammon with a sincere smile. He crouches down and opens his arms wide, holding back a wheeze when Mammon runs right into him with his arms spread.
“You’ve grown,” Lucifer pats Mammon’s head just the way he likes it. Lucifer looks pretty much the same as the day Mammon left the Celestial Realm—if anything, his hair’s a tiiiny bit longer.
Mammon leans back in the embrace and grins. “I’ll be even bigger than you one day!”
Lucifer laughs, letting go of Mammon and instead takes his hand in his. “I await that day,” he says, smiling fondly at his brother. “How has your stay been in the human world?”
“I love it. Look who’s in the bed! That’s my human and my best friend!” Mammon points at you and his grin widens. Two of his most treasured people are with him—it’s hard not to get excited. He longs to show Lucifer all of his favourite things here, from the view on the hill to the tiny garden you made with him; there are only two flowers at the moment, one planted by each of you, but they’ve been brought up with so much love that he's buzzing at the chance to show his brother.
Lucifer hums. “Oh, is that the human you were assigned to? I’m glad you two get along… wait,” his brother’s eyes widen in alarm, “how did you become best friends with someone you’ve never talked to?”
...Oops. Tread carefully, Mammon. “Um, I might have maybe accidentally shown myself and we became best friends after that,” Mammon pushes out his bottom lip and puts on his best puppy-eyes, “but I swear I didn’t mean to. I promise, Luci!”
He can see a billion emotions run through Lucifer’s eyes. His brother only says one thing. “I see.”
“You’re not mad?”
“No,” Lucifer says quickly, “how could I be?”
Mammon grins. “I love you so much, Luci!”
That makes the corner of Lucifer’s lip twitch upwards. He leans down to scoop Mammon up who happily wraps an arm around him, pressing his cheek against Lucifer’s shoulder. His brother’s fingers start to brush through Mammon’s hair, lulling him to sleep and making him smile… “It’s time to go home now, Mammon.”
Mammon goes stiff. “What? But… but I wanna stay,” he pleads, “I can’t leave my best friend alone!”
“This world isn’t ours, my dear brother,” Lucifer says in a gentle voice. It reminds Mammon of the times when he’d sit at Mammon’s bed, a sweet lullaby on his lips as he stroked his head. But instead of comfort, he feels… sick, almost. “The colour of your best friend’s soul is wonderful. You’ve done a perfect job, so they can live a good life on their own now. There are many other humans who need our help, and you’ve proven that you’re a good fit.”
“I…” Mammon gulps. He looks over at you. You’re fast asleep, unaware of anything that’s going on. There’s even a soft smile on your face as your chest rises and falls—you haven’t had a bad dream in a long, long time. A thousand thoughts run through his head as he looks at you, half of them screaming at him to stay and the other imploring him to listen to his brother. You’re his first assignment, his first human, his first best friend… but as much as it pains him to admit it, he knows deep down that he should only have been two of those things. “Can I say goodbye in the morning?”
“I’m afraid we don’t have much time,” Lucifer says.
“Can we have a minute alone, then?”
“Of course,” and with that his brother carefully sets him down, leaving after a few seconds.
For a moment, the room is still. Mammon takes a deep breath and looks at the floor, fiddling with his thumbs.
He walks closer to you, even though each step feels like steel holding his feet down. You’re still sleeping, hopefully dreaming about good things that will brighten your morning. You usually tell Mammon all about your dreams, ranging from frolicking in the meadows to meeting people with funny faces and names. This time, he won’t ever know what it is that’s making you smile.
He closes his eyes. There’s a tickle on his back as his wings sprout out, pulling in when he inhales and stretching out when he exhales. The white of his wings could blend into your soul so, so easily. He takes a second to look around the room he’s stayed in for almost two years, and the once drab walls are now covered in paintings he’s seen you splash with colour. On the wall next to your bed, there are two figures; the left has a bright smile, waving a hand at whoever looks at it while the other has much more detail, from its distinct facial features to its gorgeous wings. Between them, their hands are clasped together, and there are smiley faces decorated all around them. There’s also an arrow pointing from the right figure’s head to a red tomato… Mammon can afford to ignore that just once.
He reaches back to one of his wings and gives it a good pluck, eyes squeezed shut at the temporary pain. With a shaky grip, he sets his feather down on top of your tattered blanket.
“I'll miss you,” he whispers, resting one knee on the bed as he leans closer to you.
One last breath is all he takes before he plants a soft kiss to your forehead.
With so many humans to take care of, times passes for Mammon like clouds across a windy sky. Lucifer's taller than ever, though it doesn't take Mammon long to reach the top of his shoulders. They aren't alone anymore, either—it's a fact Mammon knows well, especially when the newcomers sing and dance in the house, tearing him from his slumber with a big yawn.
He has many siblings now. Some are so small and waddle around the Celestial Realm. They force him to run after them on a wild goose chase, rendering him out of breath and suddenly very appreciative of all the older angels... their chubby cheeks and tiny giggles when he finds them are almost enough to quell his irritation.
Levi isn’t much younger than he is, but he fiddles a lot and hides behind Mammon, clinging to his side whenever a stranger walks too close. Asmo asks Mammon to hold out his hand on sunny afternoons, and his younger brother always beams as he places a flower he picked himself onto Mammon’s palm. Lilith's little fingers love to wrap around his thumb, and both Beel and Belphie move their mouths against Mammon's cheeks, giving him what Lucifer dubs "baby kisses" (they are devastatingly wet and sloppy, but if what Luci says is true, he won't say a word). Having so many people to protect is scary and his younger self may have crumpled at the pressure, but Mammon loves them more than words can say.
Despite the new additions, Lucifer is still committed to ‘helping’ him, never failing to brush Mammon’s wings or fix his hair every morning. "I'm a big angel now, Luci!" Mammon would complain, to which Lucifer would shake his head with a smile.
He falls into a routine of descending to the human world, playing with his siblings and hanging out with Lucifer. It's good having a real job now, even if Luci refuses not to baby him no matter how many centuries pass.
How many centuries pass... that's right, it must have been a long time since Mammon first visited the human world. He’s reunited with many of the humans he's guided whose smiles are almost as bright as the new wings rising from their back. There’s a sting in the back of throat when they don’t recognise him, travelling down to his chest and making it tighten, but how could they? He’s made sure to stay hidden during their human lives. Yet he meets each one with a warm welcome, and he’s simply happy to see them well. He's met all of them—all of them, except one.
He hasn't seen you since Lucifer brought him back to the Celestial Realm all those years ago. Humans only live up to one century, right? Then where are you?
He brings the question up to Lucifer while they're on their weekly stroll. "That is strange," his brother admits with a furrowed brow, "though I suppose there could be one explanation.
Mammon’s chest tightens. "Please tell me!" he runs in front of his brother and faces him, "I gotta know!"
"All humans have a soul, and all souls have a purpose," Lucifer says, "until a soul completes its mission, it will be born again and again."
But your soul was pure white... what was missing? "Wait... then that means..."
"Your friend may be reborn in the human world, yes," Lucifer smiles. Mammon’s eyes widen, and the tiny version of himself in his mind jumps and soars. "Shall I check for you?"
Mammon hasn't nodded at anything faster in his existence. If there's a sliver of a chance that he can see you again, his first assignment as a guardian angel, his greatest friend... he'll take it.