Of course, Sam couldn't possibly be Jesus.
He sat up from the bed, in a room that seemed to be used as a medical facility. There was no smell of disinfectant, or perhaps the disinfectant used here carried a unique fragrance.
But that wasn't what Sam should be focusing on right now.
"There's no need for that... I thought I was going to die, and yet here I am, seeing you again. I'm so moved, I could cry," Sam said, his voice thick with mock emotion as he burst into theatrical sobs.
He suddenly embraced Angel, but his acting was terribly unconvincing.
Quite terrible indeed.
However, Angel didn't push Sam away. Her voice, cool and detached, flowed into Sam's ears.
"You were never going to die. Your wounds healed even before the medication was fully administered. Sam, are you Superman or something?"
Sam released Angel and looked at her in feigned surprise.
"Why would you think that?"
Angel scoffed.
