All in Due Time

Chapter 3

Belphegor had always been the brains of the duo and Beel the brawn, and it had never been more apparent than now.

Beel—the brawn of the duo—had jumped into action the minute they heard the painful heaving. He threw open the door and barrelling into Mammon's room without so much as a second thought. Belphie stood in the hall, his hands hanging loosely at his side, as he watched his brother rush down the stairs and disappear into the small alcove where Mammon kept his bed.

Belphie—the brains of the duo—stood unmoving from his spot. His violet eyes following Beel until he disappeared from his sight, and with no one else to follow, they rested on the floor just in front of him, falling in and out of focus. His mind swarmed with one train of thought after the other.

Mammon was sick.

That was the first thought that had popped into his head as he stood just outside of the open doorway. When Beel had said something was wrong with Mammon, the idea that he had been sick hadn't once crossed his mind. Belphie had immediately assumed that someone had once again gone too far while teasing the second eldest. It wouldn't have been the first time it happened, nor would it be the last.

It had seemed like the most logical answer. Although, Belphie had been half asleep during breakfast, mindlessly eating his food as he fought to keep his eyes open. Belphie was sure he had heard Asmo aggressively muttering something to do with Mammon. And considering their pugnacious relationship, it wouldn't have been a baseless assumption to think Asmo had crossed a line while bickering with Mammon.

Even when he had seen the drowsy and untidy form of the white-haired demon, he hadn't put much thought into it. Assuming it was nothing more than the visible consequences of a sleepless night of heavy drinking.

Though, in hindsight, it was blatantly obvious. From the sweat dripping down Mammon's face to his inability to stand up without leaning on the doorframe for support, every little detail pointed towards Mammon being sick.

Belphie took a step into Mammon's room, closing the door quietly behind him. The creaking of the old hinges as he shut it could barely be heard over Mammon's retching. He stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down into the messy room. Clothes were strewn everywhere, empty bags of spicy newt chips and other garbage could be seen on his floor, magazines laid open on his pool table. To say nothing of the game controllers and empty glasses that sat on his coffee table. Belphie resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, that idiot wasn't taking proper care of himself.

He went to take the first step down the stairs when another thought popped into his head.

Should he go and grab anything? A damp cloth? A glass of water? Medicine? Maybe some food to replace what he was currently throwing up? If Mammon really wasn't taking care of himself, then Belphie should probably run to grab it all before he went downstairs. Though just the thought of making his way back down the never-ending halls made him groan in exhaustion. He was still tired from chasing Beel, and he didn't feel like making the long trek back if he didn't have to.

Belphie turned himself around, lazily lifting his hand to grasp the doorknob as he searched for a way out of dragging himself back to the kitchen. He could ask Beel to run and grab it himself, though he was rather preoccupied with Mammon at the moment. He could text Satan and see if he could bring it, but he swore he heard him mention his D.D.D was dead at the end of breakfast, so that wasn't an option. He did consider texting Lucifer for a moment, but just the thought sent a deep scowl to his face.

The avatar of sloth began to turn the knob begrudgingly. But stopped himself with the realization that if the avatar of greed was sick, then surely Lucifer knew already. Belphie wasn't sure why Mammon had been trying to hide the fact from him and Beel, but he knew Mammon. And Mammon had probably texted Lucifer the minute he woke up sick to try and get out of doing his share of the chores.