Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Highlander. No infringement intended.

A/n: Sorry for the delay, I've been busy with real life concerns. Like finding a job. Boo.

I fell to the ground with thud onto the thick concrete of the abandoned building. We'd been jumping from place to place for the past several hours.

"Ow." I was slightly woozy, but it soon subsided.

Castiel stood stock still above me, "I've contacted Dean, he and Sam should be meeting us here soon."

I crawled to my feet slowly, "What? When did you do that?"

The Angel gave me a look, "I entered his dreams while I was transporting us from location to location."

"Oh, right. You entered his dreams. Silly me." I responded with a roll of my eyes, "So, I know this was my idea, but how exactly do we hide from Heaven?"

"I can feel them searching. But I believe we've lost them for the moment," Castiel turned to me, raising a hand and planted it firmly on my chest causing me to flinch, "I can hide you for a time. Burn sigils directly on your bones. Unfortunately they will heal, but slower than a regular injury you'd sustain. You'd have a few hours before they'll fade."

There was a searing pain that rippled through my entire body and then it was gone as soon as it came. I blinked several time. Well, that was certainly a new feeling.

"We'll have to find someway to hide you permanently later..."

"What about you?" Not that I was worried about him or anything. What a ludicrous suggestion to make.

"I will..." he paused mid-sentence.

I tensed, "What?"

"They're here." Castiel looked around the room with a grim expression, "I-I can't leave, they've trapped me..."

"What do you mean, you can't-" Castiel cut me off by placing his index and middle finger directly on my forehead just as the room started to shake and the room grew bright.

"Find Dean! Tell him to-"

The room filled with a piercing roar that shattered my eardrums. Now bleeding profusely from my ears, I could see that Castiel was screaming something at me that I couldn't hear as bright blinding light advanced on us. Castiel pushed the fingers he had on my forehead and I fell backwards into the sand.

Wait. Sand?

Castiel's compass must have been slightly askew because of the onslaught, because I seriously doubted Sam and Dean where in the desert. I laid back on the ground, blinking at the sun beating down on me, allowed myself to heal as I contemplated my predicament.

What was i supposed to do now? The first thing would be to figure out where I was, obviously. I turned my head in both directions. It was a large desert. All I could see was dunes. No trees, no plants. just sand.

"Bloody fantastic." I got to my feet, the only reminder of my injuries was the blood crusted on my ears and staining my white wool sweater. Not exactly the appropriate attire for the heat. I quickly shirked off my sweater leaving only my t-shirt and tied the sweater around my waist. I might need it for later.

I had to find somewhere to hide in a few hours before the sigils wore off. I'd been reading up on Enochian ever since I'd learned it was a real language. I might able to make a protection ward around a dwelling. If I could find one.

I looked around trying to get my bearings. The sun was setting to my right. East. I picked that direction and started off.

The desert heat certainly hadn't changed in the hundreds of years since I'd had to endure it. Oh, blessed air conditioning, how I long from your cold embrace. I didn't have a watch, I hadn't a clue how long I'd been walking. Hours maybe. Likely the sigils hadn't worn off yet or I'd have all of hordes of cross angels raining down on me. I needed to find something soon, or I was going to be back where I started. I wondered what had become of Castiel. What had the angels done to him? Was there some chance he'd gotten away?

I was torn out of my thoughts when I spotted an oasis. Not civilization, but I had little other choices as the moment. I did question the convenience of it, though. It may have been a trick. But as I said, my options were slim at this point. I rushed to it. Several palms tree and an ample supply of water. I could survive here. It wasn't a Marriott by any means, but I'd survived on less. But before I did anything, I had to make sure I wasn't found. Zachariah had taken my sword along with my trench-coat, damn him, but I still had a dagger in my boot and a Swiss Army in my back pocket. I pulled out the Swiss Army knife and looked around. I found a spot that gave me a circle of trees surrounding me and plenty of space to work with inside it.

I walked up to a tree and carved a Enochian warding symbol on it. Then I started on the next.

"No, no, no... you've got it all wrong! That one symbol there needs more curving around the edges, like a pair of upside down butt-cheeks!" A mocking voice spoke to my left. Had I not had years of experience in maintaining my composure I would have jumped right out of my skin. I bent to reach for my dagger before I looked to the voice.

There was a man sitting casually on a downed log. He had dishwater blond hair and was biting into a Twizzler watching me with amusement. I stood up my dagger in hand and this only seemed to make him more jovial, he waved a hand at me. "Oh, there's no need for that!" He hopped off the log finishing off the red licorice, "Wouldn't work anyway."

"Oh?" I eyed the man, or more than likely demon or angel, carefully.

He walked past me ignoring my threatening stance and headed toward the tree to stare at the symbol. Then he looked back to me, "Can I see that?" he pointed at the Swiss army knife that was in my other hand.

Not sure what else to do, I obliged him and tossed the closed knife toward him, my dagger still poised in my other hand.

"Thanks." he gave a grin with amply dimpled cheeks and turned back to the tree fixing my symbol with care, "There. That's what its supposed to look like."

He handed the knife back to me and I was dumbfounded, "Thanks for that."

The blond shrugged, his eyes still mocking, "You got it, buddy." he pulled a package of Twizzlers out of his jacket and gestured it toward me, "Want one?" I eyed the package warily, "Not poisoned, scout's honor. If I'd wanted to kill you, you'd be dead."

"Not exactly comforting..." I frowned. not taking the proffered food even though I was starving

He looked unrepentant, "Wasn't meant to be, genius. You know that you're in some deep shit, right? Like world of shit and there's about to be a diarrhea hurricane. Why did you have to go and try and stop it?"

I blinked, "I'm sorry?"

He scowled, a sudden wave of anger bubbling up in him, "You should be sorry!"

I was dumbfounded, but did my best not to show it, "I would... but I haven't felt guilt since the 11th century."

He looked at me incredulously, "Pff! That bull crap might work on the Highlander, Az, but that's only because he doesn't know any better. Not anymore. But it ain't gonna work on me."

My eyes narrowed, "And who are you, exactly?" I took my Swiss Army knife in hand and went to the next tree to continue the wards.

He ignored the question and watched curiously as I carved, "Most of them don't really know you. The Angels. They think you're a turncoat. Flip-flopper. Apathetic. But, they don't know the truth."

I glared at him, "And what truth is that?"

"You're a coward." He stated simply.

"Hmm... is that supposed to make me angry?" I glanced at him as I continued.

"It never did." He shrugged, "But I wasn't finished. What they never really understood is that you also... well, you care.. About the humans. The good ones anyway. That's always been your main concern. Saving people. Well, secondary to your own survival of course."

"Naturally." I replied, caustically.

He looked over at my carving, "You really don't need to do that, you know. Those symbols Castiel seared into your skeleton faded about..." he glanced down at his watch-less wrist, "oh, 30 minutes ago. I've been making sure those pesky Angels can't find you in the mean time."

I stopped and turned to him, "Just who are you?"

He smirked, "Oh, me? You can call me... Loki."

"The trickster god of Norse mythology?" He nodded and I pinched the bridge of my nose, "Shouldn't you be tied to a rock somewhere? It's not Ragnarok too, is it?"

"Very good, smarty pants. But, no. Ragnarok hasn't come quite yet. I escaped from that rock ages ago. It's actually kind of hard to tie effective knots with entrails. Can just rip the intestines apart, easy."

I actually knew that. You're probably better off not knowing why. It involved Caspian's rather disgusting eating habits and side hobbies.

"So, why are you here?" I looked at him curiously, and then to our surroundings, "Am I to assume this oasis is only one of your tricks?"

"Naturally." he grinned and then brought his bag of Twizzlers up to me again, "Sure you don't want one?"

"I'm sure. I hate Twizzlers." I gave him a thin smile.

He gasped, "Blasphemy! Twizzlers are the humans finest creation! Tasty and they double as straws. You can't tell me it gets any better than that!"

"Yes, man walking on the moon pales in comparison to the wonder that is the Twizzler." I sighed.

"Exactly. I'm glad you see my point." The Trickster smiled genially... which sort of terrified me.

"You didn't answer my question." I noted with annoyance.

"Gosh, lighten up, will ya?" He sighed dramatically, "You've been hanging around Sam and Dean too much. You're getting touchy."

"Sam and Dean have nothing to do with my attitude." I stared at him, "And you still didn't answer my question."

He laughed, "On the contrary, my dear Azrael. Sam and Dean have everything to do with your attitude. And I'm getting to answering your question... just give me a second." Loki snapped his fingers and suddenly we were in a bar. I was sitting down in a comfortable chair and a beer in my hand. For once I didn't drink it. I didn't trust this pagan god for a second. He wasn't called a Trickster for nothing.