Re: Dean & Alastair--Killing the bastard
Even now, Alastair was refusing to admit any sort of defeat. He might be weakened by that angel's little trick, and it meant he was having a more difficult time riding meatsuits that weren't from his world while he waited out the worst of what the blast had done, but he would get his strength back soon. For now, the 'pain' – as he knew pain and what had happened to him was less agony and more inconvenience – was set aside.
At least until the holy water splash. With a hiss of pain and the resulting vapor from the holy water damage, Alastair backed away, but quickly recovered his composure.
"What's the matter, Dean? Don't want some alone time with your old pal without good old Sam, the demon whore and poor possessed Claire overhearing everything? I thought you'd be grateful," he said, swiping his hand out to the side. The bottle in Dean's hand went clattering to the floor, the water spilling out in an erratic splash.