He remembers first taking notice of her through accident, as he has been observing the Winchesters for a long time and sees the brothers cross paths with her and her mother. She's a breath of fresh air amid the frail humans, whose sins and fears have sung to him with such a clear voice for thousands of years now. There's honesty in her: bravery and forgiveness. He finds himself intrigued by this insignificant human, whose kind he has hated longer than he cares to reminiscent.

He finds she shares feelings with the older Winchester: a budding romance that never quite becomes a full bloom. But Dean Winchester loves no one like he loves his doomed brother and so the fair maiden never says anything, as they circle around one another in silence. He wonders, if setting the world aflame will accomplish anything and finds out curiously that this only works to strengthen the bold between the brothers and distance the would-be lovers further apart.

And watching their story wither and her naive nature mature, he realizes she's even more tantalizing in his eyes now. Her dreams die, becoming regrets of unfilled possibilities. But she doesn't fight because of anger or fear, but to protect and this is what he understands most. He wonders if he could corrupt her: infect her with selfishness and greed, and toying with the idea becomes a guilty pleasure of his.

His thoughts circle on her, wondering if he can use her to separate the two brothers. Eventually he discards the idea, but secretly relishes it. As her encounters in a world gone mad shape her and he walks on the earth in a decaying body, thoughts of her begin to madden him. At times he wishes he could tear her apart and at other times he wonders what it is about this human that attracts him so. How has He, who would bow to no man, been diminished so that he could even stand beside a human let alone let one consume his mind this way? Surely this is the disease of God and his angels or maybe it is his human body and its cravings that bleed into his thoughts?

Angrily he watches her dance her dance of death, fighting his minions and plans. And in her heart there is a spark of hope he can't destroy - not even when he sends War to her. Even when she's possessed her heart is shielded from his pride and the despair that everyone else falls prey to. In her he sees the crude essence of virtue, and finds that he quite likes looking at it.

It's when fate brings her forth into his domain that he realizes what must be done. He will taint her. He will take that love she carries within and turn it into hate. And his victory will be sweet when she will embrace him.

His hounds track her down and wound her. He cannot keep himself from watching her suffering. Her beautiful face twists as she realizes she will not survive the night. She draws weak breaths and prepares to die, for she is no fool and can tell there is no going back. As her body grows weaker and the voices of her companion fade into the background, her thoughts begin to circle her regrets once more. And though they all stand beside her as she dies, she's all alone.

Whether this is the right place to do soul-searching or not, she doesn't quite care. Her life is bleeding away and with it her strength. There are angels, there's the Devil, so really there must be a Heaven too, right? Is it a peaceful place like in her father's stories? Will she finally know peace there? But she doesn't want to go yet! There are so many things to do and she just wishes she had more time on this earth.

Everybody's saying their goodbyes. She suggested she act as bait herself, it was her own intention, but she can't keep the tears away when they reach out to her one by one. Her mother begs to stay by her side, but she's her father's daughter. No one else is going down tonight. No one else needs to get broken in this fight. She has to raise her voice once to get her mother to believe until the brothers make sure she follows them out. Suddenly it's very quiet in her refuge and she can only hold back the tears by biting her teeth together and drawing blood.

As they leave and she's left all alone in the dark He appears before her. He stands there, keeping the hellhounds at bay while he observes her: the beautiful mess she's become is appealing to his eyes. Even though her body gives away, her mind becomes stronger than ever: a beacon of strength.

Jo's breathing becomes labored. Her silent observer wasn't a part of the plan to die a hero. This disturbing figure is clearly her final challenge in this hell. His face is that of quiet resolve and strangely he looks at her like he knows her. She swallows blood, while trying to keep her grip strong, but her fingers are numb and his stare is unnerving. She knows this feeling: has felt it before many, many times. He is familiar to her.

He observes her, knowing that this frail being is at her most beautiful right now: as she's dying to save her friends. He wants to tempt her and offer whatever poison she desires, and at the same time he'd rather keep watching the life bleed out of her. He knows her soul would go to Heaven and slightly reveres her for this. But Heaven is waste of a perfectly good soul and to see her locked away in a blissful memory until the end of days is an unbearable thought.

A half smile appears on his face. "Pleased to finally meet you, Joanna," he says at his most charming behavior and walks closer to her, kneeling beside her. "Can you guess my name?"

Terror sweeps through her, but she finds courage in this darkness and forces out a smile. "Fan of the classics I see," she whispers. She can hear the song in her head now, Sympathy for the devil. Ash would listen to it all the time back at Roundhouse. He'd sing and dance along too, completely immersed in it…

He takes notice of her train of thought, can trace this pain right back to the event that robbed her of her home. All thanks to the Winchesters. She has every reason to hate them but she doesn't – why is that? Why does she stand out in a crowd? Why is she the center of his attention even when his goal of obtaining Sam Winchester's body is so close?

"Why don't you go ahead and kill me," she urges him, sensing how the numbness in her fingers is spreading at discouraging speed. Soon she won't be able to detonate. She knows she should do it already, and she's willing to, but she's too afraid of nothingness. The fear is numbing and at the moment he holds her attention and she's simply too curious. Why is she still alive?

He squats next to her, unmoved, but clearly piqued. "I'm glad you asked that… Joanna," he says, throwing a relaxed look towards the hellhounds and she can hear them retreat. Good, because He is even better than the hounds. If she can kill him this wasn't all in vain. Her… death wasn't in vain.

"Are you ready to die Joanna?" He counters her question with a question of his own. She will most certainly try to lie to him and pretend to be unscathed, but he needs to raise this issue. He needs to plant the seeds of doubt in her lovely mind.

"I am drawn to death. Seeing your frail bodies expire is something that I find curious. Death is so different with our kind, so final. But you are given the gift of second life and through evolution you may even become demons yourselves. Yet you fear death and convince yourselves that there is nothing beyond. I wonder why that is?"

His honesty cuts her defenses. Her hand is shaking and she can barely keep it up. She should press the trigger. She should send him back to Hell. But when he looks at her again in the flesh of a normal man he is nothing like the seducing voice she's heard in countless stories. He seems like a regular man, someone who's had his share of grief in this mad world. But he doesn't deserve her sympathy. He wants nothing more than to end this world and his grief along with it.

"So are you ready to die?"

No. Yes. God she doesn't want to! She wants to stay even if she knows she shouldn't. She's falling apart slowly and this ravenous being is making a mockery out of her sacrifice. But why would he stay here, knowing she could end this any moment now? Confusion shines through her face.

"No," she says, taking in a heavy breath. Their eyes are locked now and he observes her, eventually moving his hand near her face. She freezes completely unable to move or think as his closeness overwhelms her. But he simply takes an escaped strand of hair between his fingers and puts it back in its place behind her ear. Then he smiles at her with easy-going charm.

"Of course you aren't," he reinforces her doubts, almost proud that she's holding onto life so tightly. This crippled human at his feet has overcome him with her honesty. After watching her from His prison for so long, she's finally within his reach: supple and curious of him. He knows he can bend her will.

"You came to watch me die?" she asks. Her thoughts are barely coherent now, the fatigue is overwhelming. There is blood all over her; she's the crimson girl this time. And quite frankly she's glad she isn't going to die alone, even if her companion is a fallen angel trying to tempt her.

"No, I came here to save you."

The truth is a surprise to him as well. But he knows it is what he has wanted all along: To see humanity through her. She's the closest he has come to appreciating humanity. She's frail and incomplete, ugly even in his eyes, as he has seen God and his most beautiful children. But everything looks different through these eyes: his essence is captured inside something that breaks so easily. He can see her soul and the flesh that surrounds it and appreciate the sight.

His façade is crackling. This creature of immense pride and source of evil has genuine interest in her. She feels like she's caught in the crossroads, waiting for a demon to appear and make her an offer for the most private thing she owns: her soul. She's losing sight of right and wrong and while everything blurs around him, he remains just as sharp in her field of vision.

"There is no need for this, Joanne. I can give you your life back, but in return you must embrace me," he explains to her calmly. He holds no otherworldly aura anymore. He appears to be just a simple, tired man. She wonders what life he stole in order to become flesh. She wonders about the broken voice he has locked away as he walks around performing evil deeds. Would she too become possessed and lose herself? Surely that is a fate worse than death?

With a wheeze she lets out air from her lungs and her hand becomes limp. She can no longer push the trigger, but panic is long gone. This unused opportunity might be her greatest sin, but maybe she just knew she wasn't meant to slay this demon. She was never that important, not driven towards a great fate like the Winchesters. Jo was just a simple girl.

Jo Harvelle is bleeding crimson all over the floor. Her body is paralyzed, her lips frozen shut and teardrops are travelling down her cheeks. Death comes closer with each labored breath. She thinks of praying to God, like she used to when she was a little girl, but she realizes it's in vain. God never answered her prayers unlike the man before him. He arrived when she was at her most desperate and vulnerable. And now he promises salvation.

He leans closer to her again, inhales her bloody scent and rakes his fingers through her hair. She no longer flinches at his touch, but embraces it. The feeling of familiarity overwhelms her senses: it's like déjà vu.

"Take my offer and you won't have to be this lonely ever again," he promises and gazes into her brown eyes. He has done this many times: tempted the innocent into sin. But this feels just as good as it did when he did it for the first time. He hasn't succeeded with Sam yet, but feeling her give in gives him hope. That lovely burn of virtue grows weaker in her by the second.

"Just nod and I will take it all away. "

She never saw herself as weak, or the kind of person who would give up. She never saw herself as the kind who would abandon all her believes, all her hope to stay alive. Sadly she's beginning to realize that he can peer straight into her mind and offer her anything she desires. For once she believes she deserves hell instead of heaven as she slightly nods her head and gives in to her weakness. The weight of the world vanishes from her shoulders and all of the sudden she feels free again.

A deal is a deal.

Lucifer brings his lips to hers to seal this bittersweet victory. That shine in her that would drive him crazy hasn't vanished though: it's darker now, much more pleasing to his eyes. As he kisses her, he exhales his breath of life into her and relishes the physical delight of contact. As an angel he could never experience this gift that God gave humans, and as a demon he tasted the deepest and foulest pleasures known to man countless times, but this kiss seems almost beautiful to him: a mark of their union.

He smiles afterwards as she doesn't bleed any longer, but starts regaining her strength. He has taken everything just to give it back on his terms. And the virtue that drew him in to begin with is gone now – replaced by a thirst even he finds formidable. Fear truly is his favorite human emotion.

He can no longer be in her presence without taking notice of her. He has become her greatest sin.

-fin