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Nothing was the same. Sure things looked similar and everything was in place where it should be. But it wasn’t how you knew it. Shops that had been there since you could remember were now just opening up, and sure it was a nice change of perspective but it wasn’t how you knew them. You weren’t supposed to even be born yet and if anything you had a few thousand years before that happened. Now things were just out of order, even Solomon himself that he wasn’t supposed to meet Asmodeus so soon. Things just felt wrong. Even the boys, the seven demon brothers, even the angels and not even Barbatos or Diavolo were acting how you knew them as. Of course you wouldn’t expect them too, but it still hurts. Knowing that one day you showed up and changed all of their lives for the better and in your timeline where you belonged you were irreplaceable and everyone treated you as such, but here you were merely an attendant and an outsider. Here you were being treated as though you didn’t matter and of course you knew what you had to do to win them back, but the time and energy you are putting in just isn’t enough to keep up with hurt feelings. You wanted to grab one of them, anyone of them and tell them everything, tell them the truth on how you got here, that you need help to go back, that you don’t belong here and it just feels wrong. But you can’t. There’s no guarantee that having an outburst like that would somehow move them to help you. Your life right now is just one big balancing act between what the boys want and need to hear while also trying to hold back tears at night. The whole situation was exhausting. And the only person who would both care and understand enough to hear about it is constantly busy trying to send you back to the present.
Once again another sleepless night, thinking of how everyone in your timeline must be in so much pain by your absence. You hope that they’re doing everything they can to get you back or locate you or something. There’s no way of knowing. So you lay awake in the dead of night staring at the ceiling. Satan’s cruel choice of words earlier today float in your head like a poison, you know he can’t help it after all he doesn’t even know you like he did, but it still weighs uncomfortably on your heart. Lucifer’s dismissal of your ideas sting, your opinion used to mean something to him. Watching all of them act in ways that you help soothe in the future feels like they’re falling apart from being healed and you would know how to help if they just let you in, but they don’t. You can’t help but think of them as you knew them and you wish that for a moment you could turn it off and just deal with the situation at hand, but even when you do if you sit still for long enough your mind knows this isn’t right. For the first time in a long time you feel absolutely powerless. There’s nothing you could do other than follow Solomon’s plan and let time pass. Sitting upright in your bed you cover your eyes with your hands, a swirling vortex of thoughts are consuming your mind of how things here just aren’t how they’re supposed to be. As if your very own brain is convinced you can do something about it right now. It doesn’t stop. It never does. Your eyes produce tears, you’re not sure if you’re numb or feeling too much right now to make yourself cry, but you know crying won’t help. Nothing helps.
“MC?” Solomon’s voice calls to you on the other side of your door. “Yes? Do you need something?” you respond back. “Can I come in?” The sorcerer asks. “I don’t see why not.” Your voice has no substance as it once did and you can hear it. Solomon opens the door and comes in with a small plastic bag which he neatly sets on your temporary desk before sitting on your bed. “Have you been crying?” His voice is steady and calm, he reaches out a hand and places it on your knee. “I guess.” You reply, wiping away the tears. You want to say something more, you want to say you want a moment to rest or even ask him for comfort, but you’re so damn tired of everything you don’t have the energy to say much. “It’s ok to be upset,” His sentence is clear and to the point, however, to you it feels like he said fifty things at once, “It’s ok to hate the situation you’re in. I know I’m asking a lot of you.” The pain that’s been plaguing you flares up in your chest again threatening to swallow you whole, a tidal wave of anger and sadness is about to slam into you, but oddly enough it doesn’t hurt as much. Yes, you are stuck here for the time being and yes you want nothing more than to feel loved by those you love back, however, Solomon is the one remaining piece you have left. He’s here and most importantly he’s here for you. “Solomon…” your voice is shaky and your eyes threaten to cry and you let them. You let out a wail and throw your arms around Solomon sobbing into his clothes, he places a reassuring hand on the top of your head. “Let it out. I’m not going anywhere.”