Re: Dean & Alastair--Killing the bastard
Though most would never understand it, Alastair finding himself smacked upside his meatsuit's head was cause for both a growl and a grin, as it was shaping up nicely toward pushing Dean further if he was ready to feed the violent urges. It also spoke to the level of conditioning Alastair himself had with pain that even with his meatsuit's face pressed into the puddle, he was still able to speak.
"Feels good, doesn't it, making me suffer?" he drawled, facial features contorting as the vapor rose around his face. "Making me pay for what I did to you, to daddy, to sweet little Claire." Even like this, even without his full power, the thoughts about Claire were right there on the surface. Alastair was pleased he had yet another named weapon to use. "Johnny boy, he never screamed half as much as Claire did. You want me to suffer, don't you, Dean? To feel that pain. Of course, I taught you every thing you know, so you'll have to do a little better than this. Come on, son, make me hurt."
As he alternately spoke and twitched from the holy water's effect, Alastair flattened out on of his hands, just out of Dean's view, and telekinetically pulled another part of the wreckage to him – a busted copper pipe with glass-sharp edges form a fracture. The minute it hit his palm, he closed his hand around it and drove it into Dean's stomach with a vicious twist and demon-strength force.