She woke like she had for the last six months. The spot beside her in the bed having been vacant for that long. She missed him, it was that simple. Standing, she placed a hand on the pillow - on his pillow. It had lost the unique smell of cigarettes and whiskey long ago, but she couldn't bring herself to change the pillowcase. It was a reminder of what she'd lost, of what she had to find again. It was a reminder that Lucifer was not a lost cause like Dan had tried to make it seem. She'd know if he was dead. It was the same way that she knew he was still alive. He still burned in her soul, and if he was dead, she'd be able to feel it. It was the same way parents knew if something was wrong with their children. He had a piece of her still, and she had one of him. She had a piece of the soul he told her didn't exist.

It had been six months of nonstop searching since he disappeared. Her police work had been put on the backburner. Trixie had been staying with Dan more often than not. He'd called it an unhealthy obsession, a lost cause. If she hadn't found him in six months, it was doubtful she'd find him at all. It was as if he didn't want to be found. Those words had caused her to think back to their last conversation.

"Lucifer…" she said softly, keeping herself from caressing his face. She'd felt his skin under her hand a million times before, but this seemed final. She needed that one last caress, that one last touch. "Don't…"

"Just don't come looking for me. Just don't. Please." She could see the ghosts of tears in his eyes. They weren't there, but she could see the shadows could see that in a few moments they might. It had all boiled down to this. The fight of all fights. The pair stood in his apartment, only a couple of steps separating them. So many words she wished she could take back, so many things she wished she hadn't said. But she did, and no matter how much she wanted to take it all back she couldn't.

"Lucifer, please don't go," she practically begged him. "I'll do anything, just please...don't go." He closed his eyes, bottom lip brought between his teeth. The expression on his face said it all. There was nothing she could do to change things. Nothing. And with that, he was gone.

"Decker," she answered the phone, looking over the credit card statements, clues as to where he could have been. They'd stopped not even three weeks after he disappeared. It was as if he knew she'd be looking for him, opting for a cash instead. It was harder to track a trail like that. She looked over tips called in as to where he may have been seen. It's not that hard to miss him, with that British accent or with those eyes or with the way he melted you from the inside out. She had to shake those thoughts from her mind.

"Chloe," Dan replied, the tone in which he said her name was what set off her detective instincts. Either something very good happened, or the worst. With Dan, it had always been hard to tell. "We found him." It was as if her heart dropped to her stomach. Her breathing picked up, waiting for the catch. There was always a catch. "We found him alive, Chloe. He's at a monastery in Huasna, Monastery of the Broken." She couldn't help but internally chuckle at the irony. The man who claimed to be the actual Devil was at a Monastery in a remote area of California, safe. He was safe.

She exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding with a small laugh. She still had the phone pressed up to her ear, but Dan had already disconnected. She wasn't sure if that meant he was going to go with her or if that meant he'd done his part and now it was all her turn. Standing, she put the phone in her pocket. It was going to be a long drive, but she could wait three more hours. She'd already waited six months.

The drive to Huasna was uneventful. Traffic hadn't been as much of a nightmare as she'd originally thought it was going to be, and she was out of the city within forty-five minutes. She let the music play during the ride, a mixture of what Lucifer would listen to and what she listened to. They were completely different, his being more along the lines of piano covers and hers being more jazz. But together, they mixed perfectly.

She wondered what it was going to be like, seeing him after six months of no contact. She wondered if he could forgive her for the things she said; she'd already forgiven him for the things he did. There was the nagging in the back of her head, though, that said things may never be the way she wanted them to be. Things may never get better between them, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to give up the hope that had kept her searching for this long. She knew that facts and the statistics, knew that he could have been dead. She also knew he was a man with many connections, and Lucifer Morningstar could disappear as easily as he'd appeared five years ago.

She parked her car in front of the monastery. It was old, the bricks and shingles telling her that. It looked to be Spanish, probably from the seventeen hundreds, if not sooner. When she got out of the car, she really looked at it. This wasn't the first place she'd look for him. Hell, it wasn't even the last. Lucifer's aversion to God and religion had steered her away from even thinking about looking at places like this.

With a deep breath, she walked over to large doors, looming over her. She'd barely knocked twice on the wood, the sound echoing behind it, when a man answered the door. He was dressed like she'd expect a priest to dress, in a cassock.

"How may I help you?" he asked her softly, his voice firm yet soft. He was barely taller than she was, blonde hair and green eyes. He reminded her of Lucifer, yet at the same time there was something different about him. She couldn't quite place it. As Lucifer had been drawn to temptations and desires, this man seemed to be much more pure.

"Yes. I'm Detective Chloe Decker with the Los Angeles Police Department." She flashed her badge to make a point. "I'm investigating a missing person's case, and I have reason to believe he might be here." Her hand hesitated on the picture of Lucifer in her pocket, scared. She didn't know why she was scared, terrified even of the possibility of him being here. "His name is Lucifer Morningstar."

The man's eyes widened, but his demeanor quickly changed to appear more relaxed. "I'm sorry, but there is no Lucifer here." She nodded, chewing on her bottom lip before pulling out the picture. She showed it to the man, his eyes scanning it like hers had a million times.

"Is he here?" she asked again, the man shutting his eyes for a brief moment. He looked at her, giving her a curt nod.

"He is. But this man is not Lucifer Morningstar, Detective." He led her in the building. There were men all around, praying or working or reading scripture. "He came to us about six months ago, clothes tattered, bruised and bloody with no recollection of who he was or even how he'd gotten here. As you know, this place is not easy to find by car, let alone by foot. We brought him in, nursed him back to health. When we asked him if he remembered his name, he didn't give us the name you did. He said his name was Samael." He led her to the chapel. Men were sitting in the pews, but one thing stood out.

There was a man kneeling at the front of the church, hands outstretched with his palms facing the sky. His head was bowed back, talking to the Heavens. The light filtering in through the stained glass didn't seem to illuminate anything but him. For a brief moment, she thought she was hallucinating. He was radiating, glowing, and she could have sworn she saw wings for a split second.

"He hasn't spoken much since he's gotten here, not of normal conversation anyway. The only time we hear his voice is when he prays aloud, but mostly, he's like this." The man motioned to Lucifer kneeling on the ground. "You can take him home, but you cannot force him, Detective. And if he does go with you, he's not the same man. I have a feeling Samael and Lucifer are two very different people." She looked at the man, head cocked slightly to the side with a small smile.

"He's the same man, Father. He's the same man I fell in love with. I never caught your name, by the way." The man smiled at her, extending his hand. She took it firmly in hers.

"I'm Jophiel. I will leave you to it. I can assume you'd be able to find your way out." She nodded as the Father walked away, leaving her standing in the aisle with Lucifer just steps in front of her. She wanted to run to him, to take him in her arms, but she took the Father's words to heart. It had been six months, six months of change it seemed like.

Slowly, she walked toward him, trying not to disturb him. She could hear him mumbling under his breath in a language that didn't sound like anything she was familiar with. Was it possible he was speaking in tongues? She knew it was possible if somebody had enough faith - or so Dan had told her. She wasn't much of a God person.

"Luc-." She cut herself off. "Samael," she spoke softly as she kneeled next to him. The sunlight hitting his face made him look like a sculpture, like God had hand crafted the man she knew. There was hinting of a five-o'clock shadow along his jaw, his eyelashes longer than she remembered. Freckles dotted across his nose and cheekbones. His mouth moved to the words he spoke. She could barely remember what they felt like on her skin. "Samael."

He opened his eyes, blinking a couple times with confusion. He brought his hands down to his sides, face still upturned towards the ceiling. Blinking a couple of times, he finally turned his head towards her. She smiled, hoping and praying that maybe, just maybe, Lucifer was still there somewhere.

"Samael, it's me. It's Chloe." She waited with baited breath as he looked at her with confusion.

"I-I'm sorry. Do I know you?" One question brought all of her hope crashing down. He didn't remember who he was, he didn't remember who she was. This man that was beside her was a man of faith, faith that Lucifer had always lacked. This man was not who had left her, and she didn't know if she was going to get him back.