And the truth was that things would be a lot less messy if he just told them now and got it over with, so that they could kick him out already . 
"I know, I know I have to tell them soon," Impulse admitted, features tightening. "I'm just... just..." he choked on his words and trailed off, but Xisuma finished for him. "...scared?"
"It's okay to be nervous," Xisuma stretched out his hand like a peace offering and Impulse took it. "I know it's hard, these things just are. I was a lot like this before I told people about my species too." Impulse looked up curiously, finally finding it in him to meet Xisuma's eyes, however shaky his gaze was. 
"It took me so long just to be able to say the words 'I'm an endborne'," X continued. "But now it's nothing but a part of who I am. Being a demon is part of who you are. And I know you're worried the rest of us won't accept you for it, but please, if I were going to kick you out I already would have. I'm not doing that." 
And there it was. Again. That blind acceptance. That blind trust. Did Xisuma not understand? Did he not understand that by simply being in the same room as Impulse, his very life could be in danger? Did he not understand that Impulse couldn't be trusted, that he was a liar and a fraud?
Xisuma smiled at him sympathetically. He didn't deserve that. 
Impulse's hope was drowned in disbelief. How was any of this possible? "I guess, part of me just can't believe it," he stuttered a little, eyes narrowing. "Believe that you're not going to..."
(Flames licked across the back of his neck and along the feathers of his wings. He let out a cry of pain and ran faster, heels pounding against cobbled streets. He'd long given up pleading to the angry mob, and had begun fleeing from their torches and pitchforks instead. 
He was tired and he was cold, and all he'd wanted was some damn bread and a place to sleep for the night, but no. Of course he'd been an idiot and hadn't thought to put on a human disguise.
Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and he didn't waste energy wiping them away. He stifled sobs that were stealing his breath, and tried to run faster. He was sweating and shaking, and his wings were pulled in tight, bleeding from where some dumb kids had yanked out his primaries so that he couldn't fly off. And all he wanted to do was get away. 
Why did they all hate him?
Why didn't anyone care?
Why did no one think of him as anything but a monster?)
"...Going to... get rid of me." Impulse finished quietly, trying to blink away the flashback that had seared itself into his mind. It was a returning one, a nightmare to remind him of how much he wasn't wanted when people knew who he was. The hermits kept telling him the opposite of what his memories did. That he was important no matter what.
It didn't make sense.
Xisuma shivered, and held Impulse's hand a little tighter. " No , of course I wouldn't do that, I won't, Impulse, I promise you." 
Impulse swallowed thickly, trying to push down a growing nausea and the nagging voice that kept telling him that X was lying. If Xisuma had been lying, he'd've already kicked him out, he reasoned, X said it himself. The mayor really didn't care, did he? 
"The hermits won't either," X continued, "I know they can be a bit much sometimes, but really, they understand."
Two voices filled Impulse's head simultaneously. One was Tango's, whining about how demons couldn't possibly be good creatures, it just didn't make sense. The other was Mumbo's, saying that whatever species Impulse was, he would be fine with it, even if that species happened to be a 'hellish daemonic entity'. None of it made any sense.