He sighed, speaking with quiet humility in place of his usual intellectual tone. Mammon was hurt (in many ways), and all Satan had ever done was add to that pain. The two of them combined made him feel sick. Uneasy curiosity welled within him, settling in next to a newfound guilt. Satan’s eyes wandered to his brother’s sleeved forearms. Just how many things does Mammon keep from us? How he looked like he was about to cry when he mentioned what his twin had seen. His thoughts returned to this morning when Beelzebub had pulled him aside. Of course Satan wanted to know what happened-they all did-but if Mammon didn’t want to tell them, then there was nothing they could do. We don’t have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable.” Satan turned them away with an icy glare. Some of the other cafe-goers began to stare in concern. “Ahaha, uh… I… hah…” Mammon tried to hide behind another smile, but it slipped. Mammon flinched at the mention of the witch’s name. The last time you acted like this was after you spent the night with Maddi, and-” “Nice try, but you wouldn’t be this quiet if it were something like that. And I was super confident I’d win so I… took the loss harder than usual, I guess.” “Well… it’s nothin’ really, I…” Mammon avoided his brother’s gaze. “Something is clearly upsetting you and we want to help.” where’s this comin’ from all of a sudden?” Mammon still wore that infuriating wary smile. “You mean so much to us, even if we’re terrible at showing it.” “I’m being serious.” He took a deep breath and let it out to still his expression before he got too emotional. It ignited the tiniest bit of annoyance in Satan but he quickly smothered it. Mammon stared at him with a bewildered look before letting out a small nervous laugh. “Mammon,” his words felt heavy on his tongue, “You know we love you, right?” He let the silence between them drag on as he tried to find the courage to say what needed to be said. He sighed and took a sip from the cat-shaped mug in front of him.