#demon!oc

"Hold on," Dean called. "Who are you?" he asked with some suspicion.

"Stella?" Sam asked in confusion.

"Is that what you go as nowadays?" questioned Lucifer casually. "Been playing with the Winchesters?" he pouted at her.

"I can't very well be as popular as you are, can I, Father dearest?" sniped Astarte coldly.

Lucifer tutted and shook his head. "Such a disappointment. You know, I remember having high hopes for you. But then, you just have to run away with my little pet here, didn't you?" he questioned, mock disappointed, indicating Crowley. "That's not very nice, you know," he admonished, a subtle threat in his voice and own cold eyes, even as his expression remained deceptively carefree.

She stood near Crowley, looking frostily at the ex-Archangel.

"Okay, will someone please tell us what's going on?" Dean interjected in frustration.

Crowley glanced at him while Astarte and Lucifer were still caught up in their staring contest, one staring lazily and the other mildly glaring. "Dean, meet Astarte. The last living Knight of Hell."

Dean and Sam each did a double take. "Whoa, hold on," Dean halted, "I thought the last remaining Knights were Cain and Abaddon?"

"Yeah," Sam added, indignant. "And I met her. She didn't seem like a demon."

Astarte finally tuned in the conversation and grinned brightly at Sam. "Well, thank you, Sam."

Crowley smirked. "That's just how she operates. She's been my Knight long before Dean came to the picture."

"Wait," Dean said, addressing the demoness. "If you were around during that time, how come I never even heard of you?"

She looked at him neutrally. "Because the others know enough to keep their traps shut."

"Nobody's allowed to talk about her," Crowley supplied, amused at the expressions on the brother's faces. "She's been on temporary leave for a few years. 'Sides," he smirked at them. "Anyone whose anyone down there knows her -- and knows not to say anything about her."

"Still the pretty little snake, I take it," Lucifer commented lightly, eyeing her with false boredom, eyes calculating. "No surprise you lasted this long."

In that moment, the door opened and in strode Rowena of all people.

"Red! Looking gorgeous as ever!" Lucifer greeted then complimented the witch. "Listen," he started, appearing apologetic. "Sorry for the whole," he waved his hand in a twisting motion, "you know."

Rowena stopped near the group and eyed him coldly. "You think you're the first man to try and kill me?" she stated in an equally cold tone.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and her gaze turned to Crowley. "Hello, Fergus," she said, rolling her eyes. When her gaze turned to Astarte, she arched a brow. "Dearie."

"Rowena," Astarte greeted back, expression carefully neutral.

Just then, a bright light came from the front of the warehouse and when it disappeared, there stood a scruffy man in what was probably his thirties. "Welcome, my children."

"You've got to be kidding me," Crowley muttered. "Him?"

Astarte merely lifted a brow at the reveal.

"Crowley. Astarte. Rowena," he addressed those not in the know.

"God," Rowena gushed, stepping nearer. "I'm sorry for, well, everything I've ever done," she apologized sheepishly. "You can't have been a fan," she added hesitantly.

"Oh, no, I've been quietly rooting against you three for quite some time," he agreed. "But I can't deny," he added, confessing, "You're one of my guilty pleasures."

"Oh, God," Rowena waved, blushing.

"God," "Oh, God," Astarte and Crowley both muttered in disgust at the same time, faces set in a grimace.

"Alright, no flirting," Dean commanded. "And no fighting," he addressed the four bad guys in the room.

"And no deals," added Sam. "No talking about ‘who owes what’ if we survive this."

Rowena turned towards her and shifted her stance to appear as if she was trying to look strong and hiding her pain. Astarte's eyes narrowed and studied her calculatingly. "Dean Winchester. I tried to kill him and he did this to me."

"And why, pray tell, were you trying to kill him?" Astarte asked as she approached the redhead, sniffing the air and noting the scent of both powerful magic and the eldest Winchester. Her sharp eyesight could see the faint trace of sigils painted on the witch's skin.

"For Crowley, o' course!" Rowena exclaimed, as if it was obvious. "All I've ever done is for him!" she said piteously, so fakely that Astarte was surprised she managed to survive this long with acting skills that terrible. "I want 'im ta be the king he was meant to," she simpered, then spat disdainfully, "Without the influence of those Winchester boys."

Astarte circled around her, trying to figure out what happened from the clues in front of her. "Dean did this?"

"Aye," Rowena squared her shoulders and admitted bravely.

Astarte's lips curled and she started chuckling. Rowena tensed at the sound. "Really now?" Astarte asked condescendingly, stopping behind the witch.

"Because," she leaned in, speaking next to her ear, "Dean...is a hunter." She said simply. "And a notorious ladies' man. But he'd never do something like this."

She trailed a finger down the redhead's bloodied cheek. "And as a demon," she removed her finger and looked at the gleaming red liquid, continuing, "it just doesn't make sense. Do you know why?"

Rowena curled and flexed her fingers. "Why?" she asked a tad waspishly, humouring her.

"Because if he did that...well. You won't still be alive right now," she chuckled, putting the bloody finger in her mouth. “Definitely not topside.”

Rowena spun around to face her but Astarte wasn't there. Instead her voice came from behind her.

"So, tell me what really happened," she commanded. "Or should I guess?" she asked with her usual cool expression.

Rowena turned around and looked at her with defiance. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she intoned carefully. "Yeh think I'm lying?"

"Oh, I know you are," Astarte replied quickly. "I just want to know why."

Rowena glared at her. "He did this to me. He tried to kill me—"

"After you tried to kill him first, yes, I know," she cut her off quickly.

Rowena raised her head. "I've already told Fergus about it."

"Ah," Astarte sighed. "So that's your angle. You failed so you want Crowley to do it himself, knowing it won't kill Dean and just piss him off. You're hoping that Dean kills Crowley—"

"I never—!" Rowena began, indignant.

"Or the other way around. It doesn't matter. Either would do, is that correct?" Astarte followed the clues, studying the witch with cold, narrowed eyes. She smiled as Rowena tensed and appeared ready to stab her.

She chuckled quietly, backing away casually, still facing the redhead. "Too bad you don't know Crowley as well as I do. He may not see your act for what it is, but he isn't one to be fooled for long."

She heard a thump and had to hide as Lucifer came out of the room, followed a while later by Crowley. She waited for Rowena to follow but, after a moment, realized that she wouldn't be. She muttered a curse before going into the room, glad that Lucifer was now out of sight.

She entered to find the witch's body on the ground, head at an unnatural angle, neck clearly broken. She frowned before seeing a purple glow form under her dress, on her thigh, before travelling upward and spreading across her chest. The redhead's body rose into a sitting position, her neck righting itself with several cracks. When it was finished, she gasped in a breath, looking around in equal parts worry and calculation.

Rowena saw her and stiffened, glaring at her with slightly frightened eyes. Astarte raised her hands placatingly. "Easy, witch. I'm not here to finish the deed."

She paused, ears picking up the faint sound of footsteps. Still far away but it wouldn't stay that way for long. "If you want to stay alive, I suggest you get up right now and follow me."

Rowena only took a second to respond, attempting to stand in her tight dress. Astarte rolled her eyes. "Hurry, we don't have much time."

She helped her up, keeping her hand on her arm even as she stood. In a blink, they were out of dark, torch-lit, stone walls and into streets bathed in the light of the afternoon sun, the subtle sound of people nearby.

Rowena looked around. "Where are we?"

"Washington, America.”

Rowena looked at her incredulously. "And what about my things? I haven't a single thing on me!"

Astarte eyed her up and down. It really wasn't the time but still she quipped, "Now that is definitely a lie. That dress covers everything up."

Rowena glared at her darkly and she chuckled. "I'll have your possessions sent to you. In the meantime, find somewhere to hide, lie low for a while. He thinks you're dead so you at least have that advantage."

"You don't have ta tell me that," she retorted, then eyed her suspiciously. "Why are ye helpin' me?"

Astarte didn't feel like explaining her strange affection so she lied instead. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

When she was awarded an eyebrow raised, she explained. "Lucifer betrayed you, after you thought he would make you his Queen.” She snorted slightly. "Please. I assume you don't want anything to do with the bastard, other than revenge?"

Rowena's face darkened at the mention of Lucifer's betrayal and she replied, "Aye. But how did ---"

"---I know you were working with Daddy all this time? Simple. Father wants out of the Cage and you're a sucker for power. It's not hard to put two and two together."

Rowena arched a brow at her. "So then why didn't you tell, Fer---"

"I don't have time for this!" Astarte snapped. "I have to deal with Daddy dearest out again and wrecking havoc in Hell."