Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 6

on his butt, eyes all glassy and dazed, and knew he was shutting down. The human mind had huge potential for greatness, but it could only take so much before it needed to take a breather. Like a computer with an error. Error. Reboot. Restart. Let's try that again. He didn't know what had done it for Brandon, the father comment or the huge demon flying above him.
    He was going with the demon. Wings had a tendency to startle a man.
    Sam gently slapped his face, saying his name again. "Wakey, wakey, Sunshine."
    Brandon sat up straight as a board, looked at Samael, searched around and then had a bit of a moment.
    "Omygod, ohmyfuckingod! Wings. That man had wings. He said… he… My father? Flew away. The fucker flew! What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On?" Bran's eyes were huge in his face and he was panting as if he'd run a marathon. If Sam did not defuse the situation quickly, his Little Raven was going to hyperventilate and lose consciousness again.
    "Hey, it's okay. You are safe. It's ok…"
    "Nothing about this is okay, asshole," the human interrupted. He was looking around like a horse ready to bolt, eyes rolling in his head and all.
    "Calm down and I shall explain." Sam grabbed his arm. "Bran, if you do not calm yourself, you are going to pass out again. Breathe. That's it. Deep slow breaths. Good, that's good."
    Brandon wrenched away. "Stop babying me, and start talking. Now."
    "Alright, just try to stay calm." The glare he was shot was sharper and more deadly than the Demon Dagger.
    Samael took a deep fortifying breath himself, let it out in a huff and talked. He told Bran about angels and demons, Heaven and Hell; explained to him about the war that had been raging for millennia. Confessed who he was, and in detail retold the story he'd given the man earlier about what happened to him, including the fact that Gadreel wasn't really his brother, but a fellow angel.
    He was surprised it went as well as it did. Brandon just sat there staring at him, as if he had grown a second head. One with nice shiny horns on top.
    He disclosed everything he could think of, rambling at some points, sometimes veering sharply off one subject to start another, just letting it all come out the way it would. Allowing the chips to fall where they may. He hadn't been fearful of much in his long life, he'd had no need; but he was afraid now.
    It was more than a fear of being alone, although that was there too. He was scared that Brandon would get hurt, and he just… wanted him. He wanted to be in his life, needed to feel his acceptance. No one had ever received him that way before, and he would be devastated to lose it now.
    Bran made things exciting. He was considerate and selfless, almost to a fault. He had undeniable spirit. He was good and kind, sweet and funny, and Sam was very attracted to him, inside and out. More than all of that, Bran really saw him and seemed to approve of what he'd seen. Samael could not imagine having to dwell on Earth knowing Brandon, but unable to be around him. Not speak to him. Never to touch him again.
    The idea was killing him.
    Finally, he stopped. He'd told his Little Raven all he could. Now it was up to him.
    Brandon was staring at his fingers, which were laced in his lap. Folding and unfolding them repeatedly. Sam could see the wheels turning in his head, so he allowed him to think. Just sitting there quietly, awaiting another judgment. Not knowing what would come. When Bran finally spoke, it was so soft Sam had to strain to hear.
    "You know, about a half an hour ago, if you would've told me all of that, I would've laughed in your face. I would never have believed it." He glanced up, his eyes half hidden behind his hair. "Seeing a man sprout wings and fly away has a way of changing things, I guess." He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. Then he was quiet again for a few moments, gazing into the distance.
    "Maybe I've gone crazy," he whispered finally. He turned back to Samael, giving him that look that he had come to cherish. The one that only Brandon had ever gifted him. "Call in the white coats and get me a strait jacket, because I think… I think, I believe you. I want to believe you, Sammy."
    Samael's shoulders slumped in relief. He grabbed the little man's hand and squeezed. He could feel tears stinging his eyes, so he looked away, sniffed hard and blinked a couple of times– getting himself under control.
    "Thank you, My Little Raven," he said, gruffly. "Thank you."
    ****
    Bran knew he was giving