"Can't say the feeling's mutual, sorry," Chris and Dean hissed together. They weren't amused in the slightest. The yellow gleam of Rick's eyes only fed their anger.
The booze burning in their veins did make the transition easier, the line between Chris and the hunter so blurry even he didn't know the difference anymore, and he didn't care.
Dean wanted revenge, but he wasn't the only one. Chris needed it too, needed someone to blame for losing everything he'd cared about. It wasn't fair to blame Dean, it wasn't Dean's fault he had to hunt monsters. In fact, it was the Yellow Eyes who started it all for Dean. So logically, Azazel was the one to blame for both of their misery, for ruining both of their lives.
He wouldn't let the bastard ruin anyone else's life anymore. Especially not Tracy and Tanya's.
Without a word he strode over, swinging the flask to splay holy water on Rick's face. And he didn't stop there, he slipped the flask into his pocket to be out of the way as he closed in the remaining steps between them. And then he was up close and personal, grabbing Rick's shoulder and slamming his back against the wall, the dagger in his hand raised and aimed for the other young man's heart.
He wasn't playing around this time. He'd come to kill.