Chapter Text
You noticed your new habit had developed after that incident with Belphie. It wasn’t noticeable at first since you were used to scratching your head from time to time and you yourself had deemed it as inconsequential. But as Asmo had pointed out, it was happening way too frequently.
You had been scratching at your neck at multiple points in the day and had never noticed. In class, during meals, while studying, even when you were hanging out with the brothers - you always found yourself scratching your neck, but not before someone pointed it out to you first. At first, you dismissed it as a bad habit that would eventually fade away, but it didn’t. In fact, the scratching got way worse whenever you were stressed or anxious. After noticing this strange habit, you decided to make a conscious effort to stop, to at least try to curb it. But it wasn’t the only thing that had changed in your behaviour after… that incident.
Anyone with eyes could tell that you were on edge when it came to interacting with Belphie. This was especially obvious to Beel, who noticed that your muscles would tense every time you and Belphie made physical contact, that you would stiffen whenever Belphie was near. Mammon, with his keen eye for looking out for his precious MC (because he was your first, as he always said), noticed how you never tried to make eye contact with Belphie, or how you would never look him in the eye if you ever spoke to each other, which was rare. It was Lucifer who noticed how loud crunching sounds would make your hand fly to your neck, just very briefly. As if feeling his gaze on you, you would put your hand down as soon as it came up. They all noticed the sudden peculiar change in your behaviour and could guess the cause of it, but none of them brought it up. Even Belphie had noticed and was definitely trying to patch things up with you, evident from the many times he tried to hang out with you alone, or even the many times he tried to talk to you. He could tell that the way you were acting was his fault and despite your forgiveness of his actions, he couldn’t help but feel that you were hiding more about how you felt than what you let on.
Even you knew that you were distancing yourself from Belphie. Yes, you had forgiven him for what he had done to you, but being able to interact with him like you used to was hard. You had to keep yourself from flinching whenever he spoke to you or when he touched you, and you were trying so hard to at least look him in the eye, just once. Time and again you failed to do so, and you knew that everyone around you could tell you were struggling. That you were both struggling to fill in the gaps in their relationship. Satan and Asmo had tried to get you to talk about how you felt after that experience of dying, but each time you brushed it off with an “I’m fine” or “I don’t really feel like talking about it, all I need is time, I’ll be fine”. They knew you weren’t but never wanted to press on more in fear of triggering you. You knew you weren’t alright — you were far from it, in fact — and perhaps your new behaviour was the manifestation of your suppressed feeling that you had refused to share. Who could blame you? Dying that painfully was not fun.
It had been about 2 weeks since you had fully recovered (externally) from the ordeal. Having your ribs crushed and nearly having your throat snapped in half took a toll on your body and had taken over a week to recover, even with Simeon’s help. You wouldn’t forget how every breath you tried to take felt like your whole chest would cave in on you, how for the longest time ever, breathing was the most painful thing you could do. To remember how it felt like to breathe while collapsed in Mammon’s arms, feeling blood welling in your mouth; It was terrible. How you had managed to speak in that state still baffled you to date. How you had survived from that, however, was another experience altogether. That night, you had died in Mammon’s arm.
Belphie betraying you and trying to kill you was a stab to the heart, leaving behind a gaping hole. A hole that couldn’t easily be patched, a hole that was frayed and would get bigger if someone were to touch it gently. You had trusted him, yet he had reinforced how much of a trusting fool you were with his actions. Granted, you understood the rationale behind his actions — you were the first human he had seen in a long while, and his hatred for humans had been festering for thousands of years since Lilith’s death. It was no wonder that he would vent out his hate on you, but you had wished the human to receive the brunt of his hate hadn’t been you. It would have hurt a lot less if you hadn’t already begun to care for him, that you believed that you two were friends . When he crushed your chest with the sheer strength of his tail, his hand having an iron grip on your throat, you couldn’t really feel anything except for the pain. At that moment, your senses felt heightened and you were aware of everything going on. Your heart rate, the breaking of your bones, the taste of blood as it rose up your throat, Belphie sneering at you… You clawed desperately at his hand that was blocking your airway, uselessly hoping that he would have mercy and loosen his grip.
You were no longer breathing by the time he dragged you down the stairs.
You were dead, you were sure of it. In the moments after your death, you awoke with panic and despair, yet you didn’t know where you were. You had always assumed you would go to hell or heaven in death, but you were nowhere. Everything around you was a blank slate, save for the woman standing before you, her gaze fixed on yours. She looked really familiar, and there was something about the look in her eye that reminded you of someone.
“You need to get back. They need you.” Was all she said and she bent down to help you up, her hand resting on your cheek to brush away the tears that were falling down your face. When had you started crying?
“Please find it in your heart to forgive him. There are so many things he doesn’t know, and there’s no way for me to tell him that now. Please.”
You opened your mouth to ask a question amidst your sobbing, but the mysterious woman stopped you. “I’ve been watching you, and… You’re more important to them than you realise. So please, give him the same chance that you’ve given the others.”
She leaned forward to kiss your forehead, the unspoken reply you had for her hung in the air as you squeezed your eyes shut.
I’ll try.
The next thing you knew, you were in Mammon’s arms, struggling to breathe from your crushed ribs. Mammon — your first, the one who cared so much for you, the one who would drop everything for you — was crying. Seeing him cry because of you hurt you so much more than the pain you were experiencing from Belphie’s attempt at killing you.
“I’m still here,” you choked out in barely a whisper, trying to lift your hand up to touch Mammon’s face to bring him at least some comfort. All it does is make him sob harder as he held you closer, shielding you from Belphie’s rage.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Belphie hissed, looking like he was ready to rip you out of Mammon’s arms to finish the job. Beel and Lucifer stood in his way, determined to not let him hurt you any further.
You grabbed onto Mammon’s jacket. “Lilith didn’t die. She lived her life as a human,” you said, each word taking a toll on your body. It hurt like hell.
“How did you—” Lucifer began but was interrupted by Belphie’s cry.
“Keep her name out of your mouth, you filthy human !”
You sobbed as you struggled to get your next words out before you passed out. “No matter how far apart we may be, no matter how much time passes, even if someday you’re no longer yourself… I’ll never forget you. And I’ll always pray that you find happiness. Always.” You recited the words from memory, a dream long over, but still as fresh in your head as it could be.
The last thing you remembered before blacking out was Lucifer’s shocked expression and the sound of Lord Diavolo’s voice.