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The clock ticks in the distance, the only other sounds are Barbatos' breathing and that of sweeping, the regular sounds of the broom rubbing against the floor interrupting the silence at seemingly carefully timed intervals.
The sound continues on for another half hour, as the Lord's butler carefully sweeps, his breaths growing more and more laboured with each brush stroke, the sweeping slowing down gradually as his already practically nonexistent energy starts to deplete, until he is eventually forced to come to a halt, sitting down and feeling every single bit of his body ache and strain under the pressures of his tasks around the castle.
He puts a hand on his stomach, which is starting to gnaw and grumble, breaking the silence as it whines for a proper meal... something that Barbatos hasn't eaten in days because he's been too busy with his work and the young master hasn't been able to notice...
Until now...
'Barbs? Is that your stomach?'
Shit, he's noticed.
'u-umm... No, my lord, just the floorboards creaking..'
Diavolo thinks for a moment, then decides to believe him.
'very well then.'
He walks away, leaving Barbatos to continue his work. The steward heads through to the kitchen, where he begins to prepare the young master's dinner, carefully dicing the ingredients and flinging them in a pot of boiling hot broth, then stepping away to wash the dishes from lunch.
He turns on the hot water tap and begins scrubbing the plates and bowls, feeling a slight dizziness come over him, but thinking nothing or it, putting it down to it being later in the day and him just wanting to go to bed.
As he continues to wash the dishes, the feeling gets worse and worse..
Then his legs give out and everything goes black.
He awakens inside the royal infirmary, in a comfy hospital bed, with the future demon king at his side.
'*groan*.. y-young master... What happened?..'
'you took a funny turn and passed out whilst washing the dishes and cooking dinner... And I think I know why...'
'a-and why is that?'
'i think you know why as well Barbatos.'
'no I do not..'
He tries to act oblivious, but deep down, he knows damn well why this happened.
He got too obsessed with his job, skipped meals, didn't let himself rest...
And now his body is forcing him to rest in the most brutal way possible...
'yes, yes you do Barbatos... You know damn well why you passed out in the kitchen... We have talked about this before, you need to start scheduling times to rest or your body will schedule them for you.. and it'll do so at the most inconvenient time possible...'
'oh don't tell me the soup's ruined.. I spent ages on that..'
'is that seriously what you are most concerned about after hearing that you quite literally lost consciousness?! Near a hot stovetop even! Jesus Christ!'
'look, you didn't hire me to take care of myself, you hired me to take care of all of your needs at the drop of a hat, yet when I do so you get angry at me!'
'i also didn't hire you to completely neglect yourself darling.. and that is what you seem to have done here... You cannot keep doing this honey, your body won't bounce back eventually if you keep on running yourself into the ground. There will come a time where you won't wake up in the infirmary and I won't get to reprimand you at your bedside... I will instead be weeping beside your stone as you're lowered into the dirt..'
Diavolo starts to tear up.
'please, darling, please stop... For me... Please.... I can't lose you... I'll lose a large chunk of myself if I do.... I'm begging you... Please listen to me this time.. I need you....'
Barbatos almost tears up as well, his stoic facade beginning to shatter as he hears the desperate cries of the prince. He nods, agreeing to listen and stop overworking himself like this.
Diavolo goes to remove Barbatos gloves and he immediately tenses up.
'I know, my love, but I need to make sure that you're ok.. your hands get a lot of work..'
'but I like my gloves..'
'I know you do, but you wear those 24/7 for days on end.. that can't be good for your hands.'
He gets them off and discovers the state of his steward's hands. Calloused, scraped, cut, dry, flaking, damaged in all sorts of ways from constant heavy labour.
Diavolo gets out some cream and applies it to Barbatos' hands, taking care around his injuries. He rubs it into all the dry and flaky spots, feeling the skin ever so slowly restore itself, with each little bit of cream.
He then moves to take Barbatos shoes off.
'why?'
'i want to see your feet..'
'thats a weird fetish to have young master..'
'no, no, it's not for that reason... Trust me..'
He removes Barbatos shoes and socks, discovering the blistered and battered state of his feet. He puts ointment and bandages onto the blisters, then puts his socks back on yet leaves his shoes off.
He then shifts his focus to making sure his butler is fed.
'right, let's get you fed, I can hear your tummy sounding off..'
'i-its just-'
'before you say anything, I am not stupid, and I know that it's not the floorboards creaking, you are absolutely ravenous and you need to eat!'
He goes through to the kitchen and stirs the soup, then ladles some into a bowl for his servant, before bringing it through with a glass of elderberry tea.
'thats the potato and leek soup I was making..'
'it is... Nutritious and filling, just what you need after not having a proper meal for days.. got some elderberry tea too, apparently helps to fend off illness..'
Barbatos slowly eats the soup, feeling the warm broth glide down his throat with each swallow, and tasting the chewy leek and the soft potato, savouring every single spoonful.
He then moves onto his tea, enjoying the light, earthy flavour as it hits his tongue, pleasing his taste buds with every sip.
His eyes flicker shut and he yawns, starting to feel sleepy. He manages to stay up just long enough to get changed into his night clothes, before flopping onto his bed and conking out almost instantly from the sheer exhaustion.
Diavolo passes by his room, noticing that he's hanging out of the bed. He walks in and helps him up, properly tucking him in and giving him a little peck on the forehead.
'Goodnight my love, I shall see you when you rise.'
He could've sworn that he'd seen his butler smile gently in his slumber as he said that.