Chapter Text
Chicago, 1930
If you want to find Mammon, you look for crows.
This was something Lucifer had learned a long time ago. Even when he was trying his best to lay low, Mammon’s familiars had a habit of following him wherever he went. They lingered, watching and waiting, searching for small trinkets and coins in streets and neighborhoods.
That’s why Lucifer was now at a small little park. It was relatively busy, with the start of summer bringing out kids and their families to enjoy the sunshine. To those passing by, the flock of crows that were congregating on the park benches was rather mundane. Someone must’ve been feeding them, or perhaps they had found something in the trash. But Lucifer knew the true reason.
Old superstitions called groups of crows like this a “murder”, associating the birds with death. Lucifer didn’t quite associate his brother with murder – at least not the one committing it– but he did find the omen fitting nonetheless. Wherever Mammon went, trouble always followed, for him and for everyone he interacted with.
If it wasn’t for his immortality, Mammon surely would’ve died a long time ago, by accident or by someone else’s hand. That much, Lucifer was certain of.
One of the crows watched Lucifer as he approached, intelligent eyes recognizing him. It waited for him to say something.
“Where is he?” Lucifer asked simply.
The bird only blinked. Lucifer wasn’t surprised. Only Mammon could speak to them, but he always figured that the birds understood everyone else just fine. Mammon always talked to the crows the same way he talked to everyone else. And if they can understand Mammon and all his brash slang, they should certainly understand Lucifer with no trouble.
He fished out a gold coin from his coat pocket, holding it out as an offering.
“I simply want to know where he is.” He reiterated.
The crow tilted his head, blinked once, then twice. And in the next moment, the coin was snatched from Lucifer’s hand. With a muffled caw, the bird took off with its new treasure, flying southward. The rest of his companions followed suit, a dark flurry in the bright June sky. Lucifer watched with a chuckle.
The familiars were just like their master, willing to do anything for the chance of gold.
Heading south, Lucifer viewed his surroundings with a nonchalant eye. Chicago was growing, rebuilding itself in the past handful of decades. But all was not perfect, it never was. The number of men out and about was a sign of that. Men with no jobs and no alcohol to drown out the stress. But their pride kept most from lashing out at the world. Lucifer could feel it radiating off of them, as pitiful as it was to him.
He saw the crows sitting at the top of a building, waiting for him to catch up. Turning the corner into the alley, Lucifer found himself in one of the quieter sections of the city. Forgotten buildings and businesses and a little motor station meant for car maintenance. From here, he could hear jazz playing on a gramophone. It was coming from the motor garage.
The crows watched from above. Lucifer nodded at them in thanks before walking closer.
He heard Mammon before he saw him.
“You ain’t kidding.” Mammon’s voice echoed.
“I’d never kid you about this.” Replied another voice, one that was suspiciously familiar to Lucifer, “I’m telling you, these boys are going to make it big in the next few years, just you wait.”
“Yeah, and when they do, you’re takin’ me to see ‘em. You said one of ‘em is from Chicago, yeah?”
“Yeah, Goodman. He’s the one on the clarinet. Miller is the one on the trombone.”
Lucifer stepped inside the garage, arrival silent thanks to the gramophone in the corner. Inside there were only two people. The first was a stout man, with a full face and dark hair, leaning against the wall near one of the tool tables. His arms were crossed, his head was raised. Despite the show of power, he was smiling, shoulders relaxed. He was all too familiar to Lucifer.
There was only one car parked in the garage. A bright yellow Chevrolet convertible, the newest model. Sprawled across the front seats, head leaning out the side of the car, was Mammon. He was tapping out the rhythm of the song with his hands, using the car as his personal drumset. The song itself seemed to be an upbeat foxtrot.
“Mammon,” Lucifer called.
Immediately, Mammon jumped, head swirling around to see his brother. His eyes went wide.
“L-Lucifer. What’re ya doing here?” He stammered.
“I could ask you the same thing.” He turned toward the man, “Al, it’s been a while.”
“Lucy,” The man leaning against the wall nodded. While Mammon still looked shocked, he only showed a subtle curiosity. “Been a while. Like what, a year or so?”
“Last year, Valentine’s Day.”
“Yeah,” Al nodded. He smiled, but it didn’t radiate any kindness, “You know I’m still not quite happy with how that turned out–”
“Al,” Lucifer interrupted, “What exactly are you doing with my brother, today?”
Al frowned as he looked between Mammon and Lucifer. “Brother? Really?”
He was trying to put the two together, but it was honestly quite hard to ever see the two as related just on looks alone. Despite it being summer, Lucifer was quite pale, making his dark hair and eyes stand out even more. Meanwhile, Mammon looked like a summer child (ironic as it was actually Lucifer’s birthday that had occurred only a few days ago). With tanned skin and eyes as blue as the sky, he looked like he should be spending his days on some sunny island, a vacation from college perhaps. His white hair made him stand out amongst the crowd, though that never stopped him from continuing to neglect the hats of the time period. Mammon would much rather slick his hair back in one of the more youthful styles rather than hide it under a panama or fedora.
“If you two really are brothers, you should tell him to go out in the sun more.” Al said to Mammon, pointing to Lucifer, “The man looks sickly.”
Mammon was too busy staring back and forth between Al and Lucifer to respond.
“Mammon,” Lucifer tried, “What’re you doing here?”
“I was tryna ask you that.” Mammon retorted, trying to gain some confidence, “And I’m not doing much. We’re just setting up my new car.”
He patted the steering wheel for emphasis. Lucifer looked it up and down. It was sleek and bold, fitting for Mammon, who beamed with pride at his new ride. There was something about Mammon’s smile that always made Lucifer pause. Despite all the antics he had to put up with, he really did cherish the moments where he saw his younger brother smile with pride. But that didn’t stop him from worrying about what would happen if Mammon were to be let loose speeding down the streets of Chicago.
“Right.” Lucifer sighed, “I need to talk to you.”
“Alright, but after this–”
“Now, Mammon.”
Mammon frowned. He turned to Al, who shrugged.
“Don’t worry, kid. I got it from here. I’ll take the car and pick up Leo.”
“Leo?” Lucifer interrogated, eyebrow raised.
Al waved his hand nonchalantly, already walking towards Mammon’s car. Reluctantly, Mammon stepped out and let the man climb into the front seat.
“I’m coming back for it, ya know that, right?”
“Course I do kid,” Al reassured. Lucifer wondered if he would be calling Mammon a kid if he knew just how many centuries he had seen, but he refrained from speaking. “I’ll see that she’s taken care of.”
It was enough for Mammon to relax. He relented and turned to his brother. “Alright, let’s go.”
“Al,” Lucifer acknowledged with a formal nod of the head, before physically grabbing Mammon and leading him away.
“Oi! Wait a sec–”
But Lucifer was already leading Mammon by the collar, taking him out of the garage and back out to the sidewalks of Chicago.
“Explain yourself.”
Mammon huffed and dusted off his shirt. It was loose fitting on him, but he seemed to like it that way. He had ditched the typical business coat like the one Lucifer was wearing, opting only for a simple dress shirt.
“Like I said, we were fixing up the car. He was showing me this new jazz group and we were just talkin’.”
“Talking.” Lucifer repeated.
“Yeah, talking.”
“And what exactly does one talk about with Al Capone?”
“I don’t know, I could ask you the same thing.” Mammon muttered, “Valentine’s Day? Really? That was you?”
Lucifer didn’t say anything. With a man like Al, how could Lucifer not interact with him? The man’s persona was larger than life, and he wanted the world to know that. Lucifer was intrigued and wanted to see what he could do.
And apparently what he could do was attract Mammon’s attention. It made sense, all of his gang’s smuggling and racketeering would surely make Mammon see dollar signs, but it didn’t mean Lucifer had to like it.
“Are you taking me home?” Mammon said after a moment of silence. He sounded dejected, but there was another question lingering.
“Why do you ask?”
“Before you string me up or something, for nothing might I add, I was wonderin’ if I can stop by the record store here.”
“Why not just go to one in the Devildom?”
“I want the record Snorky was showin’ me.”
Lucifer paused, “Snorky?”
“What, Al doesn’t let you call him that?” Mammon cracked a smile, “Guess he likes me more.”
“Mammon,” Lucifer warned.
“I know, I know, you’re still the big shot. Honestly, I’m not that surprised that you know Al. Don’t think he could’ve gotten to where he is without ya.”
Lucifer raised an eyebrow, so Mammon continued.
“I mean the guy’s great, he does a lot of stuff. But the hold he’s got here in this city? The man’s a household name now, practically a celebrity. I can only imagine what it’ll be like in the future. You don’t get that kind of infamy by yourself, not without us taking notice. Makes sense he got the attention of both of us.”
“And how had he come to catch your attention?”
“Aside from having great taste in music?” There was a flash of enthusiasm in Mammon’s eyes, “I mean c’mon. Have you seen the bounties on that man’s head? $50,000 to kill him and not only is he still alive, he’s making twice as much money in his sleep.”
Lucifer only shook his head. He continued walking on, passing Mammon.
“Oi, where are you headed?”
“I thought you wanted to go to a record store before we head home. Did you change your mind?”
“Wait, hang on, I’m coming.”
Lucifer heard a shuffle of footsteps before his brother was walking at his side again. They really did make the contrast, standing together like this. Black and white, old and young, mature and immature, the list went on. But while he would never admit it, Lucifer needed Mammon’s contrast in his life, he felt that it balanced things.
“So, why am I getting dragged back home anyway?” Mammon asked.
“You’ve been causing too much trouble up here.” Lucifer explained, “I need to start reigning you in before you cause trouble between the realms.”
“What have I done?” Mammon exclaimed, his voice rising.
“What haven’t you done?” Lucifer put a hand to his temple, “First it was the Black Sox scandal, that was fine. But then you went to Shanghai and now everyone wants their hands on that, and then you helped start the smuggling here, and then there’s Wall Street–”
“Oi, I didn’t want anything to do with what happened to Wall Street.”
“But you were the one that gave all of those people advice on how to manage their money.”
Mammon grew quiet, “It could’ve worked.” He mumbled under his breath.
“There’s nothing wrong with spreading your sin around, but your greed is starting to get noticed more than ever. It’s all about moderation, that way we don’t have Michael coming from the Celestial Realm creating miracles to balance out our actions.”
“Wait, so Asmo can cause the whole Trojan War but I can’t talk with people like Snorky?”
“You are well aware of what happens when people talk to Al.” Lucifer lectured, “Who’s that Leo he mentioned?”
“No one.”
“Mammon…”
“I never met the guy,” Mammon held his hands up defensively, “All I know is that he’s just there to help Al collect some debts.”
“Please don’t tell me you owe Al Capone money.”
“Me? No, like I said, Snorky loves me.”
“Then who?”
“Some man I met while gambling. Thought he was just some rookie in Al’s gang, but get this, right? He’s a crime journalist. The man’s been fooling his work for years. They think he’s doing such great research but the truth of it is he’s there participating. Crazy right?”
The folly of man. Say you are one thing when you are secretly the other. It made even Lucifer chuckle.
“Anyway, I was impressed. This guy was making bank. Six figures, had two houses and a hotel suite but I kept seeing him at the races. The man was wanting to see just how much he could own. Figured I’d roll with him and see how he does.”
“And now he owes Capone money.”
Mammon shrugged. “It didn’t go well for him, what can I say?”
“You’re too reckless.”
“Listen, I see someone interesting, I wanna see what they do. You do the same thing, you’re just picky about it.”
He had a point, though Lucifer would never tell him that. Lucifer wouldn’t call it picky, but he did have high standards for the people he interacted with. People can be prideful, but to catch the Avatar of Pride’s attention you have had to do something really of note. Meanwhile, any promise of riches would make Mammon come up and see what the fuss was about.
And now it was a strange time for both of them. You have gangsters and leaders with more pride than they can even deal with, and with it they think they can own all of the money in the world. They’re attracting two Demon Lords in one easy swoop. Lucifer wondered what would happen if all seven brothers took up forces in the Human Realm. Armageddon, most likely.
By the time they reached the record shop, Mammon’s crows were already there. They were perched on the roof, waiting. Mammon smiled up at them before ducking inside. Lucifer felt their eyes on him as he followed suit.
Mammon pursued the tables of records slowly, hands nonchalantly in his pockets. Lucifer only rolled his eyes.
“You’re stalling.”
“Am not.” Mammon said, “I’m checking to see what else is new.”
“You said you were here to get one record.”
“I am, but that doesn’t mean I can’t browse a bit. If you’re so pressed, the classical section is over there.” He pointed to the other end of the store, “I’m sure you’ll find something interesting.”
Lucifer shook his head in exasperation. But he did start looking through some of the tables as well. He recognized many artists, but some he had never heard of. It was Mammon that kept track of the newer music scene, jazz and the like. It intrigued Lucifer, but not as much as it did Mammon. The faster pace and break from traditions suited him more.
“Found it!” Mammon announced, proudly holding up a record, “Alright, let’s go. I wanna finish that song Al was showing me.”
The crows greeted Mammon when the two walked back outside. Immediately several of them flew towards him and tried to investigate the paper bag that held his new record.
“Oi!” Mammon waved them off, “Easy, now. This thing’s fragile.”
One landed on his shoulder, cawing inquisitively. Its dark plumage contrasted greatly with Mammon’s white hair. Mammon just continued walking, taking out the record from his bag to show it off.
“I can’t wait to hear what this sounds like at home,” Mammon said, though Lucifer wasn’t sure if he was talking to him or to the birds, “Snorky thinks this is gonna make it big someday.”
“Alright, we found what you were looking for.” Lucifer said, “Now let’s go home.”
“Yeah, yeah. But you better not punish me for something I didn’t do. Like I said, I was just talkin’, I haven’t done anything wrong.”
The crows flew off as the two brothers returned home. They flew down toward Central Street Station, where a Chicago Tribune journalist was just shot and killed. The cigar he was smoking was still smoldering on the ground next to him, alongside a newspaper that was open to the latest racing results and bets.
Some ways off, Al Capone and his partner in crime were speeding away in a bright yellow Chevrolet.