Difficult roads [END]

''It is fine'', Samael said almost quietly as he exited the car, his cup of coffee in hand, the liquid in it still hot, though that was not what was on his mind right then. The place Deith had chosen for them to stop at was beautiful, he thought briefly as he looked around, the ocean blue and the sand white like it should be, but then again many other places on the Island looked just like that too and not many others were all that dissimilar either. The whole place sometimes seemed like a paradise, and he had seen if not all then much of it and had gotten used to it to while growing up.

It did not mean he did not appreciate the calmness of it though, he could feel it seeping into his bones as he took a deep breath of salty fresh air, the wind blowing from the ocean insistent on making his hair even wilder than it already was.

It just meant, he thought, as he took a sip of his coffee, the liquid burning down his throat still, but not enough to bother him all that much any more, that it was not enough to take his mind away from the things it had once again chosen to get stuck upon.

''It had slipped my mind'', he said in the end, closing his eyes as the words I feed on soul, and blood, and lust echoed through his now fully focused on it mind.

''That you do not exactly need regular food'', he explained, biting into his lip light before letting it go and taking another sip of his coffee. He did not know how he had managed to do that, it was not like he did not know a bunch of other people who only ate because they liked the taste not because their bodies actually needed the food. Hell, there was a whole bar meant for feeding people who depended on blood somewhere in the city, right?

He was not an idiot though. He knew he had not forgot by accident but because he did not want to remember at that particular moment. Teasing Deith seemed much more fun when compared. He was irritated with himself for that, for allowing himself to forget, yet at the same time...

Well, he thought to himself, sighing. It seemed he had not grown that much no matter how it seemed to him in his head. And yet it would seem that a ride here was all adult free time he would get, what with all these thoughts making their way back into his head.

''Are you alright?'', he said, looking at Deith over the car.

''Honestly?'', Samael said, looking directly at the other man, his words half a question, challenging the truth of Deith's own words, half the beginning on his next sentence. ''I was'', he continued speaking, his eyes moving onto the ocean in front of him for a bit. ''You were probably too drunk to remember it properly, and most of it didn't happen in front of you anyway, but I had been scared witless that night'', he admitted truthfully, remembering how his body shook and the way he cried into his father's shirt. ''And I do mean pretty literary'', he added, taking another sip of his coffee. ''Didn't know what to think, didn't know how to feel. Not at first, anyway. Then I got pissed off'', removing his eyes from the ocean, he took a step back and opened the back door of the car, reaching for the box of sandwiches he had thrown back there at the beginning of the trip.

''I am not any more, however'', he said then, closing the door , and stepping around the hood of the car so that he was in front of it, placing the coffee and the food onto it before leaning back himself. ''Pissed off, or scared'', he added, looking towards the other man at his side. ''I worked through it. My dad helped a lot'', he explained, his head, once again, turning naturally towards the ocean, so that he could watch the waves break as they hit the shore, and then retreat back into the ocean.

''Besides'', he said then, suddenly breaking the slow tension which had been wrapping themselves around them for the last few minutes. ''For all that you're not human, you still look like a branch'', he said, smirking at the demon. ''I can't really get scared of you properly when I consider that.''

He could, he thought to himself. He had. That night. But not after. Not again. He had decided that, and he would stick with it.

''Come on, have at them'', he changed the topic then pushing the see-through box packed full with sandwiches of all kinds towards Deith. ''The sooner we eat them, the fresher they'll be anyway'', he said, taking another sip of his coffee before reaching over to open the box for all that he urged the Deith to pick the first two slices of bread.

''You know, though'', he said after doing that however, a thin frown appearing on his face once again. ''Finding a way to feed yourself while not actually hurting anyone is going to be a big part of you getting better'', he said, as gently as he could while still keeping his tone firm. One could see just from the lines of his shoulders that he was serious about this.

''You're totally a branch'', Samael scoffed as Deith protested the description, his tone turning once again soft and fond and teasing, even if it was only for a moment.

''Though I guess you do have strength in you despite of that'', he said, his tone growing slightly more serious again as he remembered how Deith had pushed him around that night, pinning him onto the bed so that he could yell at him before pushing him away. ''But I'm not that weak either'', he said still after it, not letting the seriousness of the memory affect him in anyway. ''Besides, I'm twice as big as you as a cat'', he huffed, thinking of his tiger form. It was painful to turn into, yes, and slow, but still useful, and a source of comfort, to know that he had a body that was that big and strong to defend himself with.

''I bet that I could turn into a tiger and sit at you and you couldn't do anything about it'', he joked, taking a bite out of one of his mother's sandwiches as well. ''I tell her you liked them'', he said as Deith commented the taste. ''Though she already knows she's a great cook so that's a given.''

The teasing, however, did not last long again, as did not the lightness of the mood, as Samael turned serious again, continuing this weird pace they have started of discussing both serious and trivial things at the same time.

''You know'', he began gain, for what had to be the third time since they started talking. ''Getting better doesn't necessarily mean being nice'', he said, looking at Deith and wondering how best to explain what was going on inside his head. ''It means getting better. Medically, physically, emotionally'', he said, frowning again. ''Not just... not killing anyone at the moment'', he said, almost surprised at how easy it had been for him to say that. ''But finding a way not to kill anyone at all. To stabilize yourself for good. And if the Fight Club helps with that, for now, that's great'', he said, wondering if Deith was so hesitant to say the name of the place because he thought it would somehow, finally, make Samael say something he really would never say.

''But you'll need something else, something more permanent, whether it's a regular doctor and meds, or some mind healer or such. Also'', he said, frowning at the sandwich in his hand. ''A regular way to feed yourself that is legal and not hurting anyone, like that Blood Bar that feeds vampires and such'', he said, thinking back on the place that had already crossed his mind once before. ''We'll come up with something'', he waved his hand in the end, not having any other ideas at the moment.

''The point is though'', he said, looking at Deith now, once again, ''that you don't have to be nice and in pain or hungry or something like that. You can be what you are and still be a good person, you know'', he wanted to frown again, unsure if he was getting even a fraction of what he wanted to say right. Somehow, this grey, bar morality did not transfer well in words, apparently. He did not, however, allow his face to shift, keeping his expression open, as he did not want Deith to think that it was in any way directed at him.

''Yeah, I know'', Samael said, looking at Deith as he explained how he fed and what he needed to survive. ''You've already told me, that'', he said, slowly starting to feel the drain all this serious conversation has had on his energy levels. ''In a way. In much less detail, though, but still'', he added, closing his eyes and thinking once again of those words Deith had all but spat in his face as if they were a curse. Which, in truth, they really sort of were.

''You don't remember it, though, do you?'', he said, leaning as much against the hood of the car as he could, trying to find a comfortable position which, at the same time would not mean he would be getting spilled coffee all over himself, or the sandwiches ruined by the sand. ''I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't, you were already pretty drunk by then. It's already amazing you remember anything after drinking that many Demons in the row, actually'', he said, looking at the sky as he spoke, for it was all he could really see properly, without twisting his neck, leaning as far back as he did.

''I was just using the Bar as an example that things such as that are indeed possible'', he continued speaking, no longer really interested in his coffee, though he was debating how he could get his hands on another of his mother's sandwiches without moving too much. ''According to what you told me, you'll probably have to find some other way. I just wanted to show you that there is another way'', he said, his hand slowly reaching for the sandwich box which turned out to be just a little bit too far away in the end.

''Can you hand me one of those, please?'', he gave up in the end, deciding to ask Deith for help before they ended up with ruined lunch. Breakfast. Meal.

''As for being cursed...'', he continued as he waited for the other man to respond to his question. ''Honestly, you kind of are'', he said, his voice once again firm, but not insensitive as he spoke the truth. ''But then again, same could probably be said for a lot of people on this Island, and off of it too'', he spoke, looking once again at the sky and thinking off all the people who lived in the city, at school, in the world, with dangerous powers, rejected, cursed.

''So it's not like it's the end of the road for you'', he said, turning his head slightly towards Deith. ''It can be dealt with, that's what I've been trying to explain to you for at least ten minutes now. You just need to find a way how, and some help.''

''I don't know about inspiring'', Samael laughed as he took another sandwich from the box, though he did not bite into it immediately, choosing to finish his reply first. ''But stubbornness is one of my main qualities'', he huffed, before finally raising the food to his mouth. ''Always has been'', he added before taking a giant bite out of his sandwich, which then proceeded to drop some lettuce on his nose, considering that he was trying to eat it while lying down. ''Case in point'', he said, picking the green leaf off his nose and tossing it in his mouth, before continuing to do just as he had before, refusing to change his position for anything less than going home.

''I know you are. I just wanted to make sure you knew what I meant. And that you have help'', Samael said, smiling at Deith an encouraging way as he swore that he was trying. ''And not just mine at that'', he added as Deith looked at him with wide eyes, opening, once again, Samael's own to why he was so reluctant to even talk about going to the doctor. ''My dad'll help too'', he said, straightening himself up after all so he could look Deith evenly in the eyes.

''We'll find someone'', he promised, his voice firm as he did so. ''Someone who will help you rather than threaten to lock you away, not like that, I swear. You won't be ending up any place like that, trust me.''

Some place of similar kind, though, but nicer, much nicer, might be what he'll need in the end, Samael thought, but did not mention, fairly sure it would be entirely too much.