Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Lucifer the TV show; I'm just borrowing them for a while.

A/N:

Hallucinations, voices, and flashbacks haunt Lucifer. During a panic attack, the devil loses all of his self-control. The momentary lapse will cost Lucifer. The damage is done and cannot be undone. Doctor Linda makes a discovery that changes the course of their relationship.

Linda dips her toe into the hot mess that is currently Lucifer's sanity; he suffers an emotional breakdown.

With his mind is in tatters, will Lucifer descend into madness? Is he already there? Will Linda successfully navigate the uncharted territory of Lucifer's psyche and bring him the resolution he so desperately seeks?

A heavenly intervention ensues when another family member appears.

As always, I appreciate your feedback and reviews.

Chapter 13: Shattered

It is quiet above the smog covered skies of L.A., where the hubbub of the city muffled into silence, and an angel flies unseen overhead. Comforted by the sound of his beating wings, Lucifer feels the wind against his face: it has been such a long time since he was able to enjoy this simple pleasure. For just a few short minutes, he can revel in the moment and escape his overwrought mind.

Descending into Beverly Hills, Lucifer appears in doctor Linda's waiting room. Still unsteady under the weight of his wings, he smacks into a wall before coming to a landing. The short flight over to the doctor's office leaves him feeling weak. The sheer physical effort of flying takes its toll on him; his mind and body scream: no! As he lurches over to the door of doctor Linda's office, Lucifer feels like he is at the end of his rope.

A sharp thud against the office wall, causes doctor Linda to investigate. Wondering what all of the commotion is outside of her office, the doctor pulls open the door to face an oddly looking unkempt man with his fist in midair about to pound on her door.

Stopping short of nearly running into the man at her doorstep, Linda gives him a look over. She is taken aback when she recognizes him to be one of her most familiar patients. "Lucifer is that you," she asks.

The man standing in front of her, dressed in a tee shirt and jeans, is a far cry from the debonair, designer-suit-wearing, devilishly-handsome, playboy; who normally darkens her doorway. This disheveled version of Lucifer isn't wearing any shoes or socks. His hair is a tousle of unruly curls. He seems to be suffering from overexertion: he is panting; his pale face is tinged with a flush and sweat trickles down from his temples. The usually confident and assured patient that doctor Linda is accustomed to seeing, now cowers before her.

What has happened to him? The therapist wonders. I've never seen him like this before—he's so raw, that he's completely come unhinged.

"Good doctor, please tell me that there's no one in there with you right now…I really, really, need your help. I think… I'm losing my mind." Lucifer pleads.

Intrigued by what he might have possibly gotten himself into this time, the doctor motions him into the office. By now, Dr. Linda had grown accustomed to Lucifer's outbursts and his problems with his evolving humanity. But, this was different, the last time she saw him this raw and this visceral, she ended up with a hole in the wall of her office, after he had angrily punched his fist through it.

Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea

Pulling the door shut behind him, Lucifer stops dead in his tracks. Another powerful panic attack seizes him. He covers his face with his hands and starts hyperventilating; tears stream down his cheeks, as all of the faces of his hallucinations crowd his mind's eye. Their moans and screams drown out all other sounds. In an attempt to ward off the attack, he clamps his eyes shut tight and tries to cover his ears. Unfortunately, he is not able to quell the onslaught of images and voices.

Doctor Linda immediately recognizes that Lucifer is suffering from a full-on panic attack as she attempts to calm him down. "Lucifer," she says softly, "it's okay, you are here now, you will be okay—just breathe. Please, just breathe."

"No, I won't be okay," he says angrily, as he continues to breathe even faster and harder. "I…I'm," his words drop off, as his legs give out from under him. Falling back against the door, he slides down to his knees; his body goes limp and continues on its downward path. Lucifer's head hits the arm of the couch causing his eyes to roll back, and for a single moment; they flash blood red, as he slips all the way down to the floor—into unconsciousness.

The sight of Lucifer's burning-red, devil, eyes was a sight that the doctor would never be able to un-see.

Letting out a loud gasp, fear pools in the pit of Linda's stomach; "what was that?" She whispers.

As if that single manifestation wasn't weird enough, she thought she saw a pair of wings unfurling from his back before they quickly disappeared.

Lucifer was coming apart in front of her very eyes. He had lost all physical and emotional control, even if it was only for a few seconds.

Trembling from the enormity of her discovery, Linda finds that her emotions are all over the map; she is terrified of Lucifer, but at the same time, she is also fascinated by him. Could the emotionally broken man, lying crumpled on the floor, at her feet, actually be the personification of evil that he is supposed to be? Or, was his constant railing against being inherently evil—the truth.

And what then, were those wings trying to unfurl on his back? Was he a real angel? Was it possible for him to be an angel and the devil at the same time?

Terror strikes Linda in waves. How can she possibly wrap her head around the fact that Lucifer is the devil?

Her mind roils at the idea that she's been dealing with a supernatural being over all of these months. Had she been so smug, that she'd never even entertained the possibility that Lucifer's incessant blathering about heaven, hell, angels, demons; and his rants about his Father, aka God—might all be true? Lucifer had never lied to her. From the very first day that she'd taken him on as a patient, he had always been totally forthright about who he was: the devil incarnate.

The challenge of getting into the devil's mind compels the psychiatrist in her, but personally, Linda wasn't sure if she had the fortitude to handle it. She considered what just happened in her office as a breakthrough that might help Lucifer to discover his true self whatever that may be.

Why wouldn't I be able to treat him, even if he is Satan? She thought.

"Damn you!" she cursed him under her breath.

The doctor had come to care for this very peculiar and very messed up man; he tugged at her heartstrings like no other patient. They had been lovers; Linda had accepted sex with Lucifer as barter for payment of her services. Their intimate relationship, though short-lived, had been a very unprofessional one. As time wore on, Linda came to view it as a stain on her reputation, and she amicably broke it off. However, Lucifer and Linda still shared a special connection because of it. Linda thought of Lucifer as her friend. She was always there for him, no matter what the day or the hour. The doctor never granted any of her other patients this kind of access. This open-door policy was further proof of how much she did care about him. Moreover, Linda trusted Lucifer; she was sure that he would never knowingly, hurt her.

It is then that Doctor Linda makes the split-second decision, to leave her fear behind. Selflessly, she jumps into action to help Lucifer out. Returning from the bathroom with a cold compress, she sits down on the floor beside him and applies it to his face.

As he begins to come to, Lucifer lets out a low moan. He tries to steady his breathing. His eyes flutter open, and he attempts to focus. "Where did I go just now?" He asks.

Lucifer, "you just had a panic attack: you passed out."

"Oh, I suppose that's how I ended up on the floor then." Lucifer had no idea that he'd flashed the good doctor with his devil eyes and exposed her to errant angel wings—springing out in a most inappropriate way.

Linda lends a helping hand to Lucifer, as he picks himself up off of the floor and sits on the couch. Her patient looks unsettled, his face is tense, as he stares out vacantly.

"Would you like some water?" Without waiting for an answer, Linda gets Lucifer a big glass of ice water, which he gulps down. She observed that his breathing was beginning to slow down and he seemed a bit more collected. Looking into his still troubled eyes, she asks, "better now?"

Staring straight ahead at the floor, he sighs and says meekly, "yes."

Linda takes her seat across the way from the couch, "Lucifer, do you want to talk to me about what just happened here?"

"Yes, yes I do, but I don't know how. Frankly, I don't know whether you will run for the hills if I do."

Analyzing what she'd just seen during his panic attack and realizing that she seemed to be okay with it, she gazes into his unfocused opaque black eyes, and says softly, "I won't run; you are much more than just a patient to me; I think you already know that. I can see how much you are hurting and I just want to help you if I can. I hate seeing you like this."

"Very well, it's a long and complicated story that you will most probably not believe." Lucifer confesses, "I guess, that even if you don't believe me, getting it off my chest will still be of help."

Shifting in closer to him from her chair, Linda locks into his reticent gaze and reassures him; "try me Lucifer, you will find that I don't scare off too easily. Um, before you start, could you please tell me about how you got those marks on your neck and all of those bruises on your face and around your eyes? Were you involved in some altercation? Did you and Amenadiel have another fight?"

"No doctor, it wasn't like that," Lucifer's voice begins to stammer, "I received a thrashing at the hands of Asherah—my mother."

"But Lucifer," the puzzled doctor recalls, "you told me that you didn't have a mother."

Lucifer's shoulders curl over as he crosses his arms and clutches himself over his stomach; staring down at the floor, he begins to speak softly: "Technically, she is not my mother. She was my Father's wife, so that makes her my stepmother."

"You said, she was your Father's wife; does that mean that Asherah and your Father are divorced?"

"Yes, doctor, they had quite a messy split. It ended when Father cast Asherah out of heaven to live out the rest of her life on earth. Unfortunately, once she was earthbound, she became obsessed with regaining her divinity—at any cost. Her behavior had spun out of control; we had to put a stop to it. Father had me lock her up in hell for all eternity. He got what he wanted, and I got what I wanted; which was for Asherah to finally get retribution for what she'd done to me."

"Retribution?" Linda asked, "retribution for what? Did she do something to you?"

Lucifer begins to tremble; tears trickle from his closed eyes; his mouth goes dry as he tries to get the words out. Speaking barely above a whisper, he tells her: "she committed the most unspeakable act against me… Doctor, she raped me."

Linda gasped, she had tried to keep it in, but she couldn't help herself. "she sexually assaulted you?" she hisses in disbelief.

Settling his unfocused stare on that invisible spot on the floor again, Lucifer murmurs, "yes, she defiled me while my Father watched. He did nothing to stop her, or to help me—he just let it happen."

The devil's revelation left Linda speechless. "Lucifer, I am so very sorry," she said, "When did this happen to you?"

Letting out a long sigh, "You're not going to believe me," Lucifer whispers.

Casting his eyes downward on the imaginary spot, he answers, "it happened, a long, long time ago… And then, he blurts out—three thousand years ago."

Trying to remain the ever professional, Linda couldn't help dropping her jaw in amazement, at what he'd just told her. The doctor shelves her anger, remaining calm, she hides behind her therapist façade and says, "I see, and how did that make you feel?" All the while under her professional veneer, she wanted to cry, to grab him and hold him close.

Suddenly, he jerks his head back up to face her, his eyes wet with tears and brimming with hurt: "how did that make me feel," he screams, "you want to know how it made me feel?" His voice cracking with emotion, "I'll tell you—I wished I were dead. I wished she had killed me. She had so thoroughly destroyed me; I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to return from it. I was as lost then as I am now." He cries.

"Holding his head in his hands, Lucifer pleads with the doctor, "please make it stop, she has inflicted this burning pain in my head, from where she ripped away my innermost desires and left me with a burned-out hole."

Pushing back her rising fear, Linda is not sure that she wants to know exactly how Asherah can physically accomplish ripping out pieces of Lucifer's mind from his head. Unfortunately, she knows she has to pursue the hard questions if she's going to help him out.

Taking a deep breath, Linda dips her toe into the hot mess that is currently Lucifer's sanity, "How was Asherah able to get at your innermost desires to rip them out?" She asks reluctantly.

Lucifer's breathing becomes ragged; recalling his struggle to keep Asherah out of his head, he closes his eyes, and cringes as he speaks, "she has the power to get into someone's head to forcibly rip out all of their deepest and darkest desires, memories, and secrets. She can rearrange parts of your mind so that the pieces no longer fit together. In her wake, she leaves nothing behind, but a jumbled and unstable state of mind, which could very well cause a person to go mad. I tried to resist her; I was blocking her, but then she became incensed. She grabbed me by the neck and proceeded to choke me until I lost consciousness for a few seconds. That was all she needed to get into my head and forcibly take what she wanted. She did something to me while she was in there—something awful."

"I'm haunted by people and memories from my past that were long-buried away, deep within me, that are now reappearing before me. I have no control of them. Even when I close my eyes and cover my ears, their faces crowd my vision, and their screams pierce my head."

"It's like she turned my mind upside down and shook everything out. I'm so terrified from the visions and voices that I'm afraid to let myself fall asleep lest they take me over for good."

Trying not to hyperventilate, Lucifer attempts to slow his quickening breaths and calm himself.

"Tell me about these people who are appearing to you," Lucifer, "do you know them?" Linda continues to question.

Taking a deep breath, Lucifer divulges to doctor Linda, "they are souls who think I have wronged them in the past. Particularly, some damned souls in hell who think they were judged wrongly by me. But, judgment is not up to me. Father is the one who judges all souls at death. Their fate is already sealed when they come to me down in hell. My sole job is to punish them. I don't understand why they are accusing me?"

"Doctor, these visions, and voices are driving me mad; I can't stop them," he whispers.

"Lucifer, you are hallucinating and hearing voices, I am afraid that you are suffering the symptoms of a mental breakdown."

"Is that what you call it Doctor? I feel like my mind is out of control. In some cases, the 'hallucinations' have caused physical harm to me. Eve tried to strangle me: see the red welts on my neck? Asherah pushed me up against the wall and held me there by pushing into previous injuries where she'd broken my ribs. Pulling up his shirt, he shows her the nasty bruise on his lower abdomen."

The images of my rape play over and over again in my mind and so do Asherah's assaults. I have no control over these flashbacks—I cannot stop them. If only I could escape it all—for just a few minutes to allow my fevered mind a rest…"

"I'm losing all control of myself and of my emotions, Doctor, I can't stop my mind; it seems to be racing towards madness. That is why I'm here to beg for your help."

"Let me get this straight," Lucifer, "are you telling me that Eve, of Adam and Eve, tried to strangle you?"

"Yes, doctor, she did."

"Well, Lucifer, I am not so well-versed in the creation myth, but didn't the devil tempt her to eat the forbidden fruit?"

"Why yes doctor, that's how the story goes, but the "fruit" is a metaphor—you know, like all the ones you use with me—for well—sex. I tempted Eve and had sex with her. She blamed all of her woes on me and tried to kill me. These welts on my neck are pretty real for a hallucination. Don't you think?"

"Can we discuss the rape," Lucifer. Linda asks as she tries to dig in deeper.

Lucifer is starting to exhibit extreme symptoms of mental distress; he's having a hard time controlling his anxiety. He tries to recount the rape but breaks down in tears instead.

Having reached a dead end on the rape, Linda attempts to find out more about Lucifer's most recent encounter. "Okay, can you tell me about your most recent confrontation with Asherah, how was she able to subdue you?"

His eyes grow wide as he struggles to answer her: "You won't believe me." A sob escapes his mouth, when the flashback of her destroying his wings, begins to appear in his head.

Linda pushes Lucifer further, "you must tell me the whole truth—no matter how crazy it sounds."

How could he break it to the doctor that Asherah had tried to destroy his wings?

"But doctor," he cries, "I can't pour my soul out to you when you think I'm delusional."

Linda recognizes that the moment has come when she must tell Lucifer that she knows who he is before he is swallowed up into a full-blown breakdown.

"Perhaps I'm finally willing to speak to you outside of your metaphor." The doctor says in a measured tone.

His expression turning quizzical, Lucifer demands to know. "What? Why? What has changed?

Outed…

"We are going to have to finally get at the essence that makes you, who you are—before we can fix you."

"But I've been telling you for months that I am," he snarls exasperatedly—"I'm the damn devil!"

"And I'm telling you that I am ready to treat you as such, but I will need some more information from you."

"Doctor, why are you so ready to embrace my—metaphor? Why now, why today?"

"What exactly did you see that would lead you to believe that I'm not speaking in metaphors when I tell you who I am?"

Lucifer is not sure if he is ready for the doctor's answer.

Dr. Linda opens her eyes wide and takes a deep breath. "Okay—when you had your panic attack earlier, and you passed out on the floor, your eyes rolled back into your head once you hit the ground—they weren't brown…they were blood red. They glinted in the light like fire, and they did not look human."

"You've seen my eyes change and you are not scared witless? Linda, most people, wet themselves when they see them. Why haven't you run as fast and as far from me as you can?"

"Believe me, I thought about doing just that. I was at war with myself, while you were laying unconscious on the floor. Lucifer, you more than anyone, should know that I'm not most people. I found the experience disconcerting at first. I could not un-see what I had seen, earlier. But, I think I know you well enough, to trust you. I don't think you will hurt me."

"Yes, doctor, you are right there. So, what else did I reveal in my momentary lack of control?"

Despite his repeated claims to be the devil and his rants about his divine family issues, Lucifer is visibly upset when the discovery of his true identity is imminent. Looking at Linda with a mixture of fear and elation, he hoped that she would have the stomach for dealing with him on his journey to discover who or what he was.

"Lucifer, it was the second thing I saw coming from you that heartened me to keep on helping you. Directly after I saw your red eyes; I saw a pair of angel wings attempt to unfurl from your back before disappearing."

"My bad, doctor, my wings aren't broken in yet, so they are still a bit unpredictable. They seem to have a mind of their own. I'm sure that my total lack of control was at the bottom of these brief transgressions."

"Your, wings…Lucifer, you are talking about your angel wings?"

"Yes, yes, of course, I am."

"How can you be the devil with the wings of an angel?"

A small sigh escapes Lucifer's mouth, as his face softens, "Father created me as an angel, I was not born to be the devil. I am still an angel; that is my species: one hundred percent angel."

"But, Lucifer, how do you reconcile being both?"

" I can't. Having my wings in hell, a piece of my Father's divinity on my back, was a curse to me and a reminder of all that I'd lost in my fall from heaven. When Maze and I escaped from hell and arrived on earth, I had her cut off my wings to spite my Father. Later, I burned them to make sure I'd never change my mind and re-attach them."

"Lucifer, I saw a pair of wings spring from you…"

"Yes, those are my new ones. Father decided to restore them to me to help in my quest to bring Asherah back down to hell. Not that the new wings helped me in this respect. As soon as she saw them, she tried to rip them off my back like insect wings. She almost ripped one entirely off from my body—it hung on by a thread. Asherah neutralized me in a matter of seconds. I didn't have a chance in bloody hell against her."

"She isn't finished with me yet, you know, she wants to kill me, to end me forever, he said, sadly."

"But your wings are okay now?"

"Yes, thanks to a human doctor who was able to fix them."

All of a sudden, Lucifer starts to rub his temples. His breathing becomes ragged, shutting his eyes tightly, he slumps over. "Doctor the pain…it's too much for me to bare. Everything is caving in on me. I feel as if I'm living from vision to vision—they are overpowering my mind."

"I'm so tired of it all that I can't go on. I'm overwhelmed." Just then, another hallucination hits Lucifer. A wall of souls appears directly behind Linda. They are moaning and wailing—Lucifer—they scream. His mouth opens in horror as he tries to look away. Sweat drips from his brow; he closes his eyes tightly while he covers his ears. He starts to hyperventilate forcibly.

"Doctor, don't you see them? They are right behind you. Can't you hear them?"

Linda turns around in her chair to look over her shoulder but sees nothing.

"No, Lucifer, there's nothing there. You are hallucinating."

"But doctor, if they are not there, why won't they go away! He screams."

"Please, please help me. Make it stop, Linda, please make it stop—I'm going mad."

As Lucifer passes out, his head flops behind him on the couch. He is twitching and trembling uncontrollably. Linda's fears that he's about to suffer a complete psychotic breakdown have come true.

Shattered…

Lucifer's mind has just shattered into a million pieces before her very eyes.

Regaining consciousness, he lies back on the couch. Lucifer is shuddering now and breathing hard. He can barely focus; he looks off vacantly.

"Lucifer?" Linda calls to him.

He doesn't look at her. He's somewhere else. He's mumbling, forming words that die on his lips. He's losing his physical faculties now as well.

"Doctor," he whimpers, "I am lost. I can't find my mind; it's gone. My head is an empty hole of pain—I've lost my mind," he cries.

Linda gives Lucifer another glass of water and retreats to her back room where she stores her meds. In a few short minutes, when she comes out with several vials of pills, she finds Lucifer in a catatonic state. He lays back on the couch, frozen rigidly, and staring blankly back up at the ceiling. He is not able to blink or to move a single muscle.

If Linda is to save Lucifer, she must act fast.

Sweet Dreams, Sweet Prince Of Darkness

The Doctor returns with a fast-acting sedative and administers the shot to Lucifer's neck. Within seconds he responds: his body softens and goes limp, he closes his eyes, and his breathing slows to normal.

After about fifteen minutes, he opens his eyes and engages Linda.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes, for the first time, since this all started, I'm beginning to feel relieved." Lucifer's anxiety-ridden face begins to relax.

"Good, not a moment too soon." Lucifer, "could you please take the remainder of these meds for me?"

Obediently, he gulps them down along with some more water. As the pain subsided, the look of relief came over his face.

"Doctor, everything was closing in on me, I was coming apart at the seams—you saved me."

Laughing nervously, she answers, "it was the fast-acting sedative I shot you up with that saved you."

"Oh," he said shakily, "do you think you will be able to help me?"

"Yes, Lucifer, I will try my best to help you."

"Lucifer, can I ask you something?"

"What dear doctor?"

"May I see you in your wings?"

Smiling genuinely for the first time that day, Lucifer says proudly, "if you wish."

Rising from the couch, Lucifer is a little wobbly on his feet at first, but then he stands up straight and unfurls his wings.

"Linda's eyes become as wide as saucers; she drew in a powerful gasp at the sight of Lucifer in a tee shirt and jeans, barefooted and adorned with these magnificent opalescent wings that take up almost the entire room. "Oh, my God, Lucifer, they are exquisite! And you are marvelous with them."

Resuming his seat on the couch, Lucifer doesn't bother to retract his wings. Instead, he lets them drape on the sofa behind him.

The sight of Lucifer laying back on his wings, gazing up at her, sleepily, was almost too much. His face was the picture of peacefulness and calm; he had an air of innocence that she'd never seen before.

"Lucifer, you'll be falling asleep, and you will need someone to take you home. How did you get here today?"

"He looks back at his wings, and smiles."

"Oh, right."

"Well, you aren't in any condition to fly."

"Amenadiel can come and pick me up."

"Right, let me get my phone."

Lucifer puts his hands together in prayer to Amenadiel

"Here, is the phone…"

"No need," doctor, "he'll be here in a few minutes."

"But how were you able to tell him without a phone."

Lucifer grinned, "I prayed to him of course."

"Ah, so Amenadiel is an angel too?"

"Yes, of course, he is, a slightly different version than me, but quite formidable."

Lucifer's eyelids were feeling so heavy, that he could no longer keep them open. He places his head on Linda's shoulder and pulls himself up to her side. It wasn't sexual, but endearingly comforting. A small smile forms on his face.

"Linda, thank you for helping me…you have no idea how much you mean to me…you are my rock."

She feels him go limp on her shoulder as he falls fast asleep. One of his wings instinctively covers both of them under the warmth of its downy feathers.

She'd never felt such pure comfort and goodness before. Touching the wings, Linda marvels at their softness and warmth. They have a very subtle glow to them. She feels something that she's never felt before from them; something that fills and warms her heart. Linda experiences euphoria as she feels the love of God emanating from the feathers of Lucifer's wings

This very complicated being who was innocently asleep on her shoulder was the ultimate paradox. Was he good, or evil? Only time would tell. Right at the moment, though, he appeared to be good.

Was she glad she'd overcome her trepidation about him once she'd found out he was the devil? Absolutely!

She hears Amenadiel knocking at the door. "Come in; she calls from the couch."

Amenadiel takes one look at a peacefully sleeping Lucifer with his wings protectively draped over him and Linda.

Smiling at the tableau the two made, "well, I see you know, he says."

"Yes, and I also saw his eyes…"

"Ah, you had the full show, then."

"Yes, you could say that I had the full show today."

"And, somehow, you seem to be okay with it."

"It was terrifying at first, but then I found that I was able to overcome my fears and help him. He needed me."

"I'm so glad you were able to help him, now, I'll take him home."

"Wait," Amenadiel, "your brother is in a very delicate state. He's just suffered a very significant emotional breakdown."

"You mean he's had a nervous breakdown," he asks incredulously?

"That's the old term for it, but yes, that's what he's suffered through."

"Will he recover from it?"

"I hope he will."

Lucifer had sunk to the bottom; he thought that he was going mad. Most of the time, in these situations, the patient does not physically lose their mind; just parts go missing. Hopefully, they can get them all back."

"How are you going to accomplish that?"

"I'm going to pursue a course of pharmacological therapy first, and then follow it up with talk therapy, when he is sufficiently recovered to undergo it. Amenadiel, I'm going to put him under a sleep cure, where his mind and brain can recuperate gently. His old beliefs should remain intact. He will be able to learn new information without releasing stress. It is very important that you keep him calm, do not expose him or engage him in any stressful manner."

"He's going to be experiencing a lot of dreams in this persistent, induced sleep state. The beauty of this is that the dreams—good or bad—present themselves and the information they bring is acquired into the brain—gently. During this dream state, dreams aren't reacted to or judged; this allows the overwrought brain and mind to relax and recover. Dream sleep is the deepest and most restorative of the sleep stages, and the longer he can remain in that state, the better and faster he will heal."

Amenadiel, "please give him the meds that I'll be providing you. Make sure they are administered to him on time and try to keep him asleep as much as possible."

"But, he's always trying to escape, he's hard to keep under control."

"The good thing about this treatment is that he will be so far under because of the meds, that he won't be going anywhere. Believe me; he will be so stoned, that he'll be barely able to talk, let alone try to escape."

"Stoned," you say. "Hmm, I can't see Lucifer having a problem with that." How long do you plan to keep him under?"

"I think three weeks should be enough time for all of the pieces to fall back into place."

"Are you saying that his mind fell to pieces?"

"He says that your mother, Asherah got into his mind and altered it somehow, bringing this event upon him. Do you know anything about that?"

"I know that Asherah has the power to get into people's heads, and yes, many have gone mad as a result."

"I'm not going to let that happen to Luci; I'm pretty sure I took care of it in the nick of time before irreversible problems were allowed to take place."

"He doesn't need to eat or drink during the cure, but if he should request something, you can give it to him. But—absolutely NO alcohol and NO cigarette smoking."

"I'll send you instruction sheets and a synopsis of his condition and the outlook for his resolution."

"Do you think he'll ever be his old self again?"

"Yes, in time, I don't see why not." As long as we keep him in that persistent sleep state for several weeks.

"Thanks again," Linda.

Amenadiel picks up Lucifer's limp form and gathers him, wings and all, into his arms. The angel unfurls his great black warrior wings. They both disappear in an instant as the papers on Linda's desk rustle in the breeze.

Linda lies back on the couch and tries to take in what has just happened to her here. Blowing out a breath of relief, she hopes that her treatment prescriptions will work for Lucifer. After all, he is not human, so there is no telling whether it will work on him or not. But she had tried her best to bring him back.

Touched By An Angel

Meanwhile, Amenadiel arrives with Lucifer at his apartment and carefully lays him down on the bed. He looks so frail, a shadow of the formidable devil that he knew.

Amenadiel noticed smears of blood on his arms and his tunic. Turning Lucifer over, he sees the bloody wing, where the stitches had pulled apart when he'd strained it while flying.

Just then, he feels a familiar presence in the apartment, looking up from Lucifer, he stares out ahead into the room. A broad smile opens on his face, "Hello Raphael…it's been awhile."