Any minute now, the world would right itself again. John was sure of it. Any minute now, the rest of this spell would fade entirely, leaving him the man he'd been two weeks ago, only a hell of a lot more pissed.
But it didn't. And pointing out her advantage of him was a guaranteed recipe to throw John into ultra-defensive mode. He didn't like being unprepared. Being unprepared was how people ended up dead. Most of him strained to take her apart right there for it.
A part of him hesitated at the very thought.
"You go first." He wasn't about to turn his back on her, not when he knew she could spin a little spell, kill him and then blame it on the spell and a weak heart or some bullshit like that. He'd watched her walk out of here, backwards if she preferred, but he already felt a hell of a lot more vulnerable than he ever wanted to feel again, in more ways that just the lack of weapons.
"You're gonna ne-"
He cut himself of sharply, confusion and disgust equally at play across his face. The spell breaking had removed the feelings associated with this false life he'd been jammed into, but it hadn't removed the memory of those feelings. It was like a phantom sense, of love, of protectiveness, of all the things had felt for his sons mixed with the brief glimpse at how he would feel for his rightful daughter once she was here. That phantom sense was speaking about the normal protective parents things – 'you're gonna need a coat' or 'you go ahead and take the car' – even as he wanted nothing more than to send this thing in from of him screaming back to Hell.
"Just go." The words were bit out, clearly angry, bu the focus of that anger not entirely clear right now.