Chapter 7: Before She Never Seemed To Care

Sammaël looked over at the teenager, and briefly considered walking over there and turning their brain into soup. It would be easy. All Sammaël would have to do was reveal itself, across every single dimension it existed on, even the ones that smelled like old socks, and their head would pop like a grape. 

Then it looked down at Sierra, and the strange feelings looking at her body brought to the surface, and then back up. The child seemed to sense something was off. Maybe Sammaël had begun to emanate a sense of foreboding — it did that, sometimes. It could smear the offender’s mind across seventeen realities, and then someone would find it and feel the same way the way Sammaël felt when it looked at Sierra. It wasn’t worth it. 

That, and it wasn’t going to matter. With more care than was necessary, Sammaël put the body down. It didn’t know why it did that. Sierra was gone, after all, so why was it showing reverence to her body? Whatever the reason, Sam gently set her down on the sidewalk, then stood up and grabbed temporal linearity by the throat. 

 

“I’m telling you I am a relative.”

“What family?”

“I’m their fiancee.”

“He didn’t mention a fia—”

“It’s complicated. Just let us talk. Please.” 

“Very well.”

“Thank you.”

Sammaël blinked its eyes open. A part of it wanted to resent the fluorescent lights on the ceiling, but at this point they were a welcome sight. And Sierra’s voice was like a balm anyway. It sat upright. “Abe Douglas,” it said to the nurse, who seemed satisfied. Something about calling itself Abraham left a sour taste in its mouth, competing for parking space with the various other unpleasant tastes. “Engaged to Sierra Guthrie. I’m fine. My insurance information is in order. I would like a painkiller, if it’s all the same to you.” It ignored the pounding in its head for a moment to look at Sierra, standing and breathing and alive. “It’s good to see you, Sierra,” Sam said. 

“You too,” Sierra said with a very forced smile as the nurse stood up and walked out. “I’m going to want an explanation.” Sammaël frowned and stood up with a slight nod. 

“Of course,” it said with a resigned sigh. “I am happy to explain everything that happened. There was a fight w—”

“I know all that, Sam,” Sierra interrupted, and Sammaël froze to the spot, then slowly turned to her. Sierra looked like she’d seen a ghost, ironically. “Yeah,” she said with a nod.

Sammaël shook its head, which was something of a mistake. “You remember?”

“I do.” Her voice was a loud whisper. “What the fuck Sam?! I died!”

“Why do you remember?” Sammaël answered. “That’s not how this is supposed to work!” It looked her up and down. “Everything?”

“Yes!” Sierra said and held her hand up. “I can still see time flowing between my fingers if I squint! I died!! Am I just supposed to breeze past that?!”

“Uh,” Sammaël said, “for now, probably.” The nurse came in with a small cup with a painkiller in it. Snatching the cup out of her hand with a quick thank you on the way out, Sammaël wracked its brain. “I don’t understand. This doesn’t make any sense.”

Sierra rushed to keep pace with her. “Can you tell me what the hell is going on here!?” She grabbed it by the arm. On the one hand, Sammaël wanted to oblige her and explain everything, but it also wanted to get out of the hospital and get somewhere safe. It wasn’t looking forward to finding out what other ridiculous combination of circumstances could kill them next time. But not telling her wouldn’t be fair. She’d died twice already. 

“Okay”, Sammaël said. “You remember everything? You remember who I am? What I am?” It rubbed a hand over its jaw, immediately regretted it as the tough bristles of its facial hair pricked its fingers, and made a sound of disgust.

Sierra nodded. “Yes,” she said, “I do. Massive, unknowable entity from beyond the edges of time and space with a love of earth music, a curious streak, and bad dysphoria.”

“Okay… yes. Probably,” Sammael said, shaking its head as it started to move down the hall again (to Sierra’s annoyance). “I don’t want to stay here,” it explained. “The lights hurt my eyes.” The doors to the hospital’s exit opened to fresh air and much less unpleasant lighting. It stopped. “Look,” it said. “When I first revealed myself to you, you died.”

“I know!” Sierra said. “I got impaled! I was there!” 

“No,” Sam said, “No, that wasn’t the first time.”

“What?!”

“The first time, you slipped in the bathroom and cracked your skull,” it said. Sierra’s mouth fell open. “The second time, you killed me with the pocket knife in your purse. 

“Wh—” Sierra said. “I… Wh— Why?! You know what, it doesn’t matter. Why don’t I remember those?”

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“I don’t know,” Sammaël said as it walked to her car. “Anyway, after the first time, I decided that I had to do something, so I reversed my place in temporal space, and decided to start over. Maybe, because I showed you the flow of time, your consciousness is a little… untethered now. Which is why you remember.”

“How do you know that? Do you do this often?! How many p—”

“I’ve never done this before,” Sammaël said. “I never even had proper a conversation with a sentient being before I met you, Sierra. I’m going off my understanding of the various laws of the universe and my gut feeling.”

“You are a very weird eldritch abomination,” Sierra said with a scoff and opened the door for them both. 

“So my mom keeps telling me,” it said with a sigh as it threw itself down in the passenger seat, and then caught Sierra’s shocked look. “That was a joke. I don’t have a mother that I know of. I was birthed from very concepts before time released itself from the infinitely small point that was the universe.”

“Sure,” Sierra said. “So now what? We can’t go to my apartment, because it’s about to fall into a sinkhole.” She shook her head. “Do you think we have time to go in there and grab some of my old records? I have a signed vinyl of Blonde on Blonde…”

“I don’t think so,” Sammaël said. “I would rather not risk either of us dying again. “Why are you so calm about this? You died, and you remember it, and now I tell you that I’ve gone through this loop three times and you shrug it off.” The car started with a slight jolt, jostling Sammaël’s slightly abused brain.

“Sam,” Sierra said. “As a species, we’ve been writing time loop stories since forever. I grew up watching Groundhog day. I rewatched Russian Doll, like, a couple of months ago. It’s not that complex of a concept to wrap your head around when you can see time!”

“Is that still happening?” Sammaël asked with a frown as they left the parking lot. “I can do something about that, if you like. I don’t want you to have to ignore it all the time. Sierra shook her head. 

“No,” she said. “It’s only there if I focus. Besides, it’s not unpleasant to look at. The color’s pretty. Like a kind of purple-orange-greenish.” She seemed to chew her thoughts for a moment. “What do we do now? Where are we going?”

“I don’t know,” Sammaël said, “but something is wrong. I’m starting to worry that someone — or something — knows I am here and is trying to stop me from existing here.”

“You think someone’s trying to kill you?!” Sierra said as she turned down a street. “Alright, let’s go to a hotel first. I need to sit down and think. Fuck, I need to call my parents.”

“Maybe it’s best if you go home to them for a few days,” Sammaël said. “I will get to the bottom of this and stop whoever keeps making attempts on my life.” It looked out the window with grim resolution as the streets rolled past. “I don’t understand. I haven’t been to this corner of the galaxy in millennia, and I don’t think I’ve ever set foot on it in this temporal stream. Who is after me?”

“Are you sure you’re the only one like you?” Sierra asked. 

“Yes. If there was another like myself, we would’ve struggled long before. I’m… very present. Well, my true form is.” It looked down. “This one needs a little work though. Speaking of which…” it looked at a convenience store. “Do you mind if we pick up some shaving supplies on our way to the hotel?”

Twenty minutes later, and it felt better with an electric shaver and a razor in its lap. The weight of them was strangely comforting. It wasn’t going to help them stop whatever was trying to assassinate Sammaël, but something about the purchases were like a weight off its shoulders. Half an hour later, it was looking at itself in the mirror of a motel bathroom, wiping off the last of the shaving cream. 

“Yeah,” Sierra said from the bed, “Love you too.” She hung up the phone and then blew raspberries. “Do you have any idea where to get started?” Sammaël thought as it tossed the cheap towel aside. 

“Nothing I can think of, off the top of my head,” it said. “This would be a lot easier if I was in my full form, of course,” it said. “I could read the thoughts of the entire planet, follow the streams of consciousness of civilization.”

“So I have a question,” Sierra said, putting her hands behind her head. “You talk about your true form. Where is it right now? What’s it doing? Are you two separate? Is it just sort of… hanging out?”

“It’s not a separate entity,” Sammaël said. “Think of it… Imagine you’re looking at a live recording of a distant location. You can argue that your consciousness is in that location, in a sense, right? You’re seeing things from that location.” Sierra jutted her jaw forward and nodded. “Imagine that, but with every aspect of your identity. I’m piloting this body,” it waved down at itself, “and all sensory input is coming from it, but my essence is still out there, dormant.”

“Then why can’t you just take a step back from the camera?” Sierra asked. “If you’re so powerful?” Sammaël sat down on the other bed and lowered its head onto the pillow. It wasn’t a very good pillow, and the sheets were far too stiff. But it was still a welcome reprieve.

“I’m worried I’d rip a hole in time and space,” Sammaël said. “I’ll have to drop the metaphor in favor of another one, but I already took a risk inhabiting Abraham. There is a lot of me, and human brains are very fragile. I worry that if I hop in and out, I might burst his mind across every dimension. Which would mean he likely wouldn’t have survived childbirth.” Sierra made a face. “Exactly.”

“So you’re stuck like this until… what? You’re done?”

“Something like that,” Sammaël said. “I could, in theory, just drop Abraham, figure out what is happening, and then find a different host, but…” It shrugged. “I want to make the best of this one. Besides.” It looked over at Sierra and felt the corners of its mouth twitch. “I’ve only ever really met one human being, and I’d like to make the best of that too.”

Sierra smiled back. “You’re a strange one, Sam. But… Thank you. So there’s nothing you can do?”

“Not nothing,” Sammaël replied. “I can manipulate time, although there appears to be a hard limit. I can only go back as far as my waking up in the hospital, and only to that time.” It looked at the ceiling. “I would like to try changing my form somewhat, but I’d rather it not go wrong. These things are very delicate.”

“Hey,” Sierra said. Sam looked over. “You’ll figure it out,” she said. “You seem pretty incredible, I doubt there’s something you couldn’t do.”

“Thank you,” Sammaël said, and smiled. Something in its lower chest bubbled happily.