Bound

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Reality?

"Thanks for the offer, Bobbikins," I said with a brief smile, leaning forward to the edge of the couch. "I think another day, I'll be right as rain." Bobby tilted his head slightly at my choice of words. "Where did 'dumb and dumber' end up?" I shifted the conversation to Dean and Sam, knowing that Bobby already knew who I was referring to.

"A case," was his brief reply, but I had a feeling he wouldn't divulge any more information.

"Dean told you not to tell me, right?" I pointed out the obvious, and Bobby looked away for a brief moment before locking his eyes back upon me, and his expression just gave it all away.

"You need time to recover," Bobby declared, his voice firm, almost as if he were reprimanding me and insisting that I stay and heal.

"Who's the older one here?" I teased with a smirk, eliciting a soft smile from him as he shook his head.

"At least you haven't lost that Abigael charm," he retorted with a chuckle. "Please, just stay," his voice grew serious, his gaze fixed on me. "Until that venom is out of your body," I could see the genuine concern in his expression. All I could do was nod, agreeing to his condition to stay and heal.

..............................

Another day went by, and I made a swift recovery, regaining my strength. I was soon able to "poof" myself back to my apartment, where I could maintain a low profile and have some personal time. I couldn't forget what I had witnessed when I tried to help Sam back in Rhode Island. His pain and suffering were barely contained by the wall Death had placed. That wall will steadily develop more and more cracks until he's no longer Sam, but just a helpless shell. The Tarot cards never lie...

Barefoot, I moved with a gentle, almost silent grace across the living room floor, finally standing before the roaring fireplace. Its radiant heat enveloped the entire room, infusing it with a comforting warmth. My eyes fixated on the flames, mesmerized by their intricate, ever-shifting choreography, each flicker unique and transitory.

In my hand, I cradled a crystal glass, its weight a testament to the expensive whiskey it held. I lifted the glass to my lips, savouring the moment. As the golden liquid touched my mouth, I could feel its smooth, rich texture. I tilted the glass back, letting the whiskey cascade across my lips, a delicate, sensuous caress, before it descended down my throat, leaving behind a warm, lingering embrace.

Out of nowhere, a heavy sense of dread gripped my stomach, and the hairs on the back of my neck bristled as if an unseen observer was fixated on me. Yet, there was an eerie familiarity in the air, as though I had encountered this person before.

"Balthazar," his name lingered in the air, and I spun around to find the angel, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

"Little Miss Abigael," his smirk remained as he spoke, taking a few steps closer. "You do look positively radiant," he added with a hint of flirtation.

"What are you doing here?" I brushed off his advances. "And how did you manage to get in?" I had layered the place with warding and protection spells, and his intrusion left me uneasy.

"I have my ways," he replied with a wink. "But there's no time. The Archangel Raphael is on his way to kill you," he said, and I perked up, trying to determine if this was a credible threat. "I had to send your boys away-"

"Where?" I cut in, my gaze unwavering. But before he could respond, thunder rumbled from outside, and lightning abruptly lanced through the sky. The entire apartment quaked violently. Objects perched on surfaces tumbled and shattered, and we both scanned the room in alarm, the lights flickering briefly before exploding in sparks.

"This is not good," Balthazar observed, moving closer to me. Just then, the windows leading to the balcony shattered, sending shards flying. My glass narrowly escaped destruction in the chaos. I instinctively turned away from the explosion, only to whip my head back around to find Raphael now inhabiting a businesswoman.

"Raphael," I narrowed my eyes at the woman before me, just as Balthazar vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving me to fend for myself.

"The Hybrid," she responded, stepping forward, her heels crushing glass beneath them. "I see the resemblance," she continued, causing me to clench my jaw and fists as she referred to Aradia.

"Say that again," I threatened, the words gritting through my teeth. Her response was a sardonic chuckle that only fueled my frustration.

"You don't have to die tonight," Raphael spoke, taking her hands behind her back and clasping them together. "If you swear loyalty to me and fight against Castiel, you may live," she offered, presenting me with a chance for survival.

"The old me would have accepted that offer. Only thinking of my own survival," I began, reflecting on my past self before meeting the boys and before all we had been through. "But... I've grown. Evolved," I asserted, standing my ground without fear of Raphael and her potential actions.

"No," she began, her head gently shaking. "You'll remain the same, always seeking survival, regardless of who has to pay the price to ensure your safety," a thin, knowing smile graced her face, as if she understood me all too well, anticipating that my darker nature would resurface.

"Never," I retorted sharply, raising my hand swiftly, but she was quicker, and before I knew it, I was hurtled across the room, crashing into the wall. I slid down, but was quick to get to my feet, as she had so much more power than I.

"Weak," Raphael taunted, and in response, I shot my hand forward, fingers contorted like claws, twisting my wrist in a fluid motion. Her head wrenched violently, the unmistakable crack of her neck echoing through the room. She plummeted to the floor like a fallen stone. However, it didn't hinder her for long, and she quickly rose to her feet. With a mere glance, I was catapulted off my feet, slamming into the wall with my limbs splayed, as if ensnared in a spider's web.

"You can't defeat me," Raphael continued, striding confidently just in front of the fireplace. Suddenly, an invisible force seized her, hurling her from her position, and shattering the fireplace in the process. My gaze darted across the room to find Balthazar standing there.

"Let's go," he urged, just as the force that had held me released, allowing me to slide down the wall and land on my feet. Balthazar swiftly crossed the room and grabbed my forearm, pulling me along. We reached the bedroom door, which bore a symbol painted in blood, as the sound of glass indicated Raphael getting back up.

"Go through!" He insisted and gave me a firm push. I hesitated, but he noticed. "Now!" With a forceful shove, he propelled me forward, and I hurriedly opened the door and stepped inside. However, I was met with the same room, with the only notable difference being the absence of the usual New York traffic sounds.

"Cut!" A booming male voice filled the room, causing me to jump slightly. I turned my head to the right and saw that my wall was gone, replaced by a group of directors and cameras all pointed at me. My mouth hung open in astonishment as I tried to make sense of what I was witnessing.

"You were fantastic!" Another male voice beside the director exclaimed. My eyes darted around the unfamiliar space, every step calculated, my senses on high alert. I couldn't be certain if I should prepare for a potential confrontation. The surroundings revealed themselves as an elaborate studio set, rendering my own bedroom a mere prop, casting doubt on the reality of my surroundings.

Where on earth was I?

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