A/N: I watched the Jennifer Lopez movie, Angel Eyes, and couldn't believe how much the story reminded me of Castiel and Dean. THERE WAS EVEN AN AWKWARD, TRENCH COAT WEARING, MAN WITH ENTICING BLUE EYES (?). An untrusting cop—Dean? Yess… I literally could not stop myself from doing this. ANGEL EYES FOR GOD'S SAKE. *throws lap top*


Dean Winchester's day had begun like any other did: a quick stop at his favorite hometown coffee shop, Ellen's. After about two cups he had gotten up, chatted with Ellen and Joe for a bit, and left for his day shift. Chicago was busy as hell, as usual, and Dean was made for it. Nothing went past his electric green gaze, and the city knew it…as did its criminals.

Dean had made it his mission to clean the streets of Chicago of any gang violence, more than once referring it to 'Mission Batman,' something his younger brother Sam had rolled his eyes at. However, Dean's mission was slowly coming to reality, having taken down multiple gang leaders in the past, and he was becoming a real threat in the eyes of the city's delinquents—a red beacon.

That is one reason why Dean knew that he should have waited for backup…or called for backup, at least. The cop had followed three gang members foolishly into a back alley, his sense of justice clouding any other sense of self preservation. Two were known trouble makers, one Dean knew personally from a drug bust a while back. The third looked relatively new…young, and that's what truly made the cop follow them (Dean had always had a rather huge soft spot for the younger delinquents, he being one himself once).

Dean was ambushed as soon as he had rounded the corner, the youngest landing a right hook on the cop's jaw. He was pushed back for a quick second, shocked, before three other men joined in. It was six to one and Dean's luck was beginning to wear thin, the cop spitting out a mouthful of blood when he could. It seemed the men liked pounding him with their fists rather than shooting him with the guns they had hidden in their back pockets. Outnumbered or not, Dean fought back, managing to knock out a few teeth of one, and box the ears of another.

"You really don't play safe, do you, Winchester?" One of the men scoffed, spitting blood and punching Dean in the stomach, pushing the cop against a dirty wall. Dean wheezed loudly, buckling in on himself. "A pretty face you may got, but you ain't got the brains!" Dean looked up at the man with ferocious eyes.

"Like you do? Alistair?" Dean bit back, strong. Alistair smiled wickedly at his captive, bloody teeth and all, clicking his tongue at him.

"You got balls kid," Alistair mused. Dean blinked in raw fear when he felt the cool metal of a gun pressed against the underside of his chin. "Now, how 'bout we see how pretty your blood looks painted—" Alistair was suddenly cut off and Dean barely caught sight of brown and black before he found himself free, his knees almost buckling in on themselves.

The cop watched, wide-eyed, as a random man began fighting his fight against his assaulters. The man wore a trench coat (that honestly looked like it had seen better days), and a simple black suit with a crisp blue tie. What really shocked Dean, however, was the fact that the man was winning. 'Trench Coat,' Dean mused, was quick on his feet, shined shoes or no, and he had quickly sent two of Alistair's men flying, Alistair himself still dazed at the onslaught.

However, Alistair wasn't dazed for long, and Dean's heart nearly stopped when he saw the silvery flash of a gun. Dean pushed his body away from the safety of the wall and shoved Trench Coat out of the way, catching Alistair's wicked smile before a gunshot rang high and shrill through the air and Dean felt undeniable pain rushing through his chest. He fell to the ground, wide-eyed in shock.

He was shot.

He was shot, and Trench Coat's eyes widened like his own, watching as Dean fell to the ground. He let out a hurt, angry sound, anger-fueled. He fought even harder then, breaking whatever was there to break next.

Dean was in a fog as he tried pushing his body up, the chaos in front of him fuzzy as his hands shakily went to his chest. He pulled away his shirt, buttons flying. He pressed against his bullet proof vest and then against his neck, his trembling fingers still white.

He wasn't bleeding, but his chest was on fire.

Before Dean had realized it, the backup he should have called earlier was there, Trench Coat having pressed Alistair's face into the cement. His goons had run off, leaving him behind. Alistair was hissing like an animal under unyielding hands, blue eyes furious and wet with tears. That is, before Trench Coat found himself being arrested along with Alistair, blue eyes blinking wetly.

It took a very hoarse, "—ey, wait," from Dean to get them to stop. Dean pushed himself out of the mother-henning grips of Bobby and ambulance personnel alike, Bobby babbling on in his ear about his idiocy, and stood up. "Let him go," Dean said, ignoring Bobby. "…He had nothing to do with any of this mess. He saved my life." Bobby shut up after that, much to Dean's delight, the older man looking at Trench Coat in new light.

"You heard 'em, boys. Let him go." Bobby said when they looked at him for affirmation. Trench Coat was looking at Dean in both awe and happiness.

"I thought you had died back there," The man murmured and rubbed at his wrists when he was set free. Dean managed a stiff smile, rubbing his bruised clavicle. Blue eyes followed his movements and Dean stopped.

"Yeah, same," Dean said and smiled awkwardly at him. "Um, thank you, by the way. You saved my life. I'm Dean." Dean offered him his hand and Trench Coat looked at it intensely for a few seconds before clasping it with both of his own, making Dean jump. Dean was vaguely aware of Bobby pushing Alistair into his cop car, the vile man flashing his eyes at his back, but he was more focused on the strange man before him than the villain behind.

Dean quickly pulled his hand back after a few seconds, feeling his ears burn red. "Um, yeah," The cop said and started backing away awkwardly, half tripping over his feet. "Thank you again, man. Next time I see you—if I do, I mean; you know, this city's big—" Dean was rambling but Trench Coat was smiling widely at him, watching him trip away. "Yeah, I'll buy you coffee." Dean was glad that Bobby called for him then, the cop pointing his way and running over to Bobby.

Trench Coat watched him go with a warm smile. "It's a promise, then, Dean."