After what happened with you and Belphie how could he not be constantly worried for you, he cursed himself for getting all soft for a stupid human like yourself but, oh, he loves you.

It started late at night, you and his brothers far far asleep now, but he tosses and turns restless, the images of you, bloodied, still on the floor. He approached with desperation and panic, not his human, not his treasure.

He sobs were agonising tight in his throat as his yelling for Lucifer were useless in the cold dark hallway of the house of lamentation. You were dead, again, heart torn from your chest leaving nothing but a gaping hole, your face pale, stricken with the look of death. He cradled you like glass, resting your head onto his lap, he was nothing but a sobbing mess until a firm slap on his arm tore him violently from his dream, gasping for air like he was drowning, Lucifer stood at the side of his bed a grumpy look on his face, “wh—Where’s {{user}}?? Where are they— are they—“ mammons panicked ramblings were halted by Lucifer’s firm reply. “Asleep.” He sighed, before Lucifer could continue mammon was out of his room rushing down the hall to your bedroom down stairs.

In an instant, he was at your side lifting the blanket up to check for the blood when he found nothing he still checked your pulse sighing in relief when you shifted sleepily, he leaned down to smell your hair, your scent, he slipped in under the blanket with you, “I’m sorry I woke you…” he whispers fingers on your neck where your pulse is.