Castiel crumples as he's abruptly let go, sliding to the ground and blinking stars out of his eyes as he twists to look up at his savior.

"Dean," he breathes, trying to think of something to say to sum up the almost crushing relief that he hasn't lost him. All those things are lost, however, at the sight of his silhouette against the setting sun, gun held aloft and hat perched just so. It is...highly distracting.

"He started it!" his attacker yells, dragging his wounded accomplice out of the alley. "Said he was a damn angel, bled all over our bar!" They stumble away as Castiel starts to push himself up, wiping at the blood still running down from his nose and cheek.