Summary: When the call came through Dean only had five minutes left of his shift. The last thing he was expected was to end up in hostage situation. AU.

One

The radio crackled.

Silently Dean pleaded with Garth not to take the call.

"Shooting on Norris Street."

They only had five minutes left on their shift. Dean swore under his breath. Garth liked to play superheros.

As annoying as he was, the man had a heart of gold. Truly Dean couldn't of asked for a better partner but that didn't make it any easier.

"This is 666 we'll take it. E.T.A under five."

"Fuck." Dean cursed the second the radio went dead.

"Chin up buddy. We are about to save lives." Garth's grin was infectious. Dean rolled his eyes laughing. He was so tired he was practically delirious but what the hell. It wasn't like he had someone waiting at home.

"Balls."

Dean couldn't help but agree as they rounded the corner into Norris Street..

Dean looked at the wide spread of cop cars surrounding the over turned vehicle. The firemen were finishing hosing down the engine where it had obviously been on fire. The scene looked like something out of a movie. Shaking his head Dean cleared his mind to the task at hand.

"Come on. Lets see where they need us."

Dean climbed out of the ambulance taking his pack with him. It was easy to spot the man in charge. Robert Singer was yelling insulting instructions to his men trying to get them to clear the public back. It was a busy area and people's curiosity often made their work ten times harder. They didn't want to help. They just came for the live action show.

Dean pushed his way to the boss with Garth trailing behind. The man was a legend. Garth was in awe of him. He had even been stealing his sayings. It was embarrassing. Most of the time Dean gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it.

"Hey Bobby." Dean shook his hand. They had run into each other too many times to count.

"Hey kiddo. We shot the driver. He's over there. Just be careful the passengers are M.I.A. They jumped out while it was still moving and went missing in the crowd. Fucking armatures. Can't get anything right, ijdits." Suddenly Bobby stopped something caught his eye. He turned, instantly dismissing the ambulance officers. "Rufus put that fucking down, it's a bloody crime scene!" Dean glanced over to the black man who was clearly as old as Bobby dropping a bag of jewels all over the pavement. They scattered like skittles.

Dean snorted back a laugh as the two men started a shouting match.

"Let's go save lives." Dean nudged Garth getting his attention back to the job. They jogged over to the fallen man. Benny, one of the fire fighters was leaning over him with a cloth over his face.

"I didn't know what to do. We thought he was dead until we pulled him out. Then we realised the bastard was still breathing." Benny pulled back the cloth reveal a bullet wound to the head.

"Awesome." Dean's sarcasm gained a look from Garth that only a mother could match.

The facts were simple. The chances of this man pulling through were slim at best. Most likely he die in transit and that meant a whole lot of paperwork and worse still the chances of get home before dawn were dwindling by the second.

He sighed pushing on.

"Let's stabilize him and get moving."

They work silently as a team. They didn't need words. They knew exactly how this flowed. They were almost one person when they worked. Which seemed strange to everyone else because the second they spoke it was clear they rolled on different wave lengths.

The patient was as good as he was going to get. They lifted him off the ground onto a gurney. It was technically Garth turn to ride with the injured man but Dean could tell his partner wasn't so keen to deal with a criminal.

"I've got this one. It's been awhile since we've had something this freakish." He tapped Garth on the back reassuringly. Garth let out a breath he had been holding and nodded. He headed around to the drivers side. Dean pushed the man around the back and loaded him in.

"Ah Dean?" Garth voice was alarming high pinched. "I think we have a problem."

Dean stopped dead as the cold steel grazed the back of his neck.

"Get in. try anything smart and you're paint splatter."

Dean flinched at the words hissed in his ear.

Looking up Dean could see through the window opening ahead there was another gun pointed at his partner. His eyes flicked closed for a second while he took a deep breath. That's all the panic he would allow himself. His eyes flicked open and he squared his shoulders. He climb in after his patient and the gunman followed him in. He had a job do. Despite the situation they were currently in, it was Dean's job to save people. Even the scum.

"My boss dies and so do you."

"Sure no pressure, it's just a little bullet to the brain. I'll just put a bandaid on it and you can be on your way." Dean snapped.

"Not helping Dean." Garth hissed from the front seat.

"Drive!" The figure in the front was a female. Dean couldn't see her from here but the voice gave it away.

"We aren't going to the hospital." The man with the gun growled.

"Look if you want you're boss to live we have too. There are very few surgeons who can do this operations. There are no guarantees with brain trauma."

The two men glared across the unconscious body.

"Alastair we can't let him die." The woman insisted.

"And how are we going to get him out of the hospital Ruby? He'd be better off dead then in jail."

"There's a helicopter on the roof." Garth pointed out helpful.

"Dude!" Dean cursed. They weren't meant to be helping them. It was too late. Dean could see a plan formulating in the criminals mind. His smile sent a shudder running down Dean's spin.

"Saint Michael's it is."

An. I am not sure how this is going to go. I have never written for supernatural but right now I am a little obsessed, hopefully you all like it. :)