Old Habits Die Hard (Destiel)

Chapter Thirteen

Warnings; harsh, cruel language

Dean sucked in a breath.

"Do it" his head told him.

"For Sam."

He slowly put his finger on the trigger.

"Dean, Dean, Dean" his dad interrupted. John's cold eyes struck Dean to stone. The phrase 'murder in their eyes' had never been so real.

"I can see what your doing." His dad spat.  "But you don't have the guts. You're a worthless piece of shit and you won't pull the trigger."

Dean immediately had flashbacks to his childhood. Much worse words had been said then.

Mary was fuming at this point, but it was nothing compared to Cas.

Without his control, John's hand was slowly coming off of Sam's throat. Cas's eyes glowed as he forced the hand away.

This action took up most of him energy. He could feel the sigils on the wall leeching at his power, draining it before he could get a full grasp. Even still, the angel did this for his friend. He needed to.

By the time Sam could get away, Cas could barely stand. Beads of sweat touched him for the first time as he fought for consciousness.

Dean could see it all unravel before him. His gun clattered to the ground as he rushed towards Sam.

John saw the moment play out in slow motion. His hand got just far enough away for Sam to slip out, but just then, Cas's energy lost its hold.

Sam was running, Dean was running, Cas was weak. This was the perfect opportunity for John Winchester. He booked it towards the angel, locking him in place.

John swivelled to the back of Cas, pinning his blade across his throat. John was in the perfect position, his other arm locked Cas's behind.

"Well well. " he started. "Here's how this is going to go."

"No." Sam interrupted. "There are four of us and one of you. You're not making the rules. Surrender and we'll spare you."

John smirked. "The difference is, Sam, I'm not afraid to get dirty."

In the blink of an eye, he slit a small cut on Cas's jaw. Pure white shone through before it quickly trickled blood. He pulled the blade back up to his neck before anything else could happen.

Cas's jaw stung and the room seemed to hold their breath.

But John was wrong. The difference was not in fact that he wasn't afraid to harm them, the difference was Cas.

He had spent years protecting and fighting against far worse. A blade to his throat wasn't the hold on him John thought it was.

Castiel's fighting was often taken for granted or cast aside, as he had been doing it for so long.

The only reason John wasn't dead, is because Cas knew it would hurt Dean more then they could both admit.

Even after the abuse and torture, John still had a hold on Dean that wasn't going away.

But he couldn't take it any longer. If John didn't kill him, there was a chance someone else could be. Castiel couldn't take that chance.

He mustered up his remaining energy.

"I'm sorry John Winchester."

Cas bashed the back of his head into Johns face. The attack was unexpected and affective. John reeled back, dropping the blade and grasping his bloody nose. 

Cas spun around, facing him. He grasped onto Johns neck with his left hand. The man was brought to his knees, looking up at the angel like an old painting.

Castiel's right palm grasped Johns forehead and burnt his insides to a crisp. They're eyes opposing each other. Castiel's glowed life and power while Johns melted from his skull.

The only thing Dean could hear of his fathers death were the screams.