37. Push the Button.

As I sank onto the soft bed, an overwhelming sense of stupidity washed over me. My heart and soul had once been brimming with false hope, longing for that intoxicating feeling when Damon and I fucking, having sex like wild beasts, and I could rest on top of him. But alas, he belonged to Mariella.

It was time for me to reorganize my realities. The word-saving task had just begun, and I knew that the responsibility mostly fell on my shoulders. I needed to adjust my attitude and suppress my emotions because they were secondary. Determined, I got dressed and made my way to dinner. As I ate, my mind focused on the upcoming mission.

Suddenly, Adam entered the room and glanced at me, his expression filled with understanding.

"Oh, so it's that bad, huh?" he remarked.

I responded, my voice cool, tinged with anger and bitterness, "Remember when Salvatore complained about me leaving our bedroom? Well, that's where I created a separate space for us. It was upstairs, as you recall. I designed it for us whenever I was on a mission or away, and now I took Damon there. He didn't suffer fucking with me. He only requested that I leave that room alone. And I will. Now I'm preparing for a mission, and we'll see where I can go tomorrow. I know Salvatore won't be going anywhere for a while, so I'll make my move."

Adam nodded in agreement, and together we continued with the rest of the tour. We were both committed to this world-saving mission, professionals at the top of our game. 

After finishing my meal, we retreated to my office, where Adam brought up Magnum in conversation. I had missed him dearly, and although it wasn't the time for emotions, it felt incredible to reconnect with him.

We made our plans, deciding that I would oversee the fight clubs in Romania, Bulgaria, Poland, and Bosnia, while Adam would assist Magnum with Charles and take down the Italian Mafia. As we stepped out of the office, we discovered that the Salvatore trio had already left for the Irish castle. It was no surprise to know what they were doing in there. Adam cursed vehemently, expressing his frustration.

Mariella had no choice but to let Damon take them to Castle Ireland for safety. Somehow the entire room, the apartment, that Mimi had done to them had been such a blow to Damon that it had been so out of balance and the fact that he had blamed in past Mimi repeatedly for not buying clothes for him, and he did not know about the whole shed session.

Both shed sessions had gone on for three weeks. A pain gel in the gut, a stabber, a rib crusher, and a fucking cranky and convincing Damien, who almost programmed Mimi not to buy him clothes, and he was not to buy Mimi clothes. Because Mimi is not yet perfect.

Damon had watched the shed sessions as they had flashed in Mimi's mind and he realized Mimi hadn't dared him to buy anything when she hadn't known whether it was Damien or Damon. After all, Damien had taught in this session.

And these were pretty much early shed sessions in that neither Adam nor Samuel even knew anything had been done to Mimi. Damien had always just barely healed Mimi, so there were no clear signs. Damon had smelled Mimi's fear when he'd gone to look at the clothes. Mimi had been afraid he'd get nervous, too.

He told Mariella everything in his mind as they fucked furiously and he remembered at the same time how he had bought Mimi her first proper clothes instead of children's clothes. He told her how he felt all the emotions disappearing from Mimi again and knew that their relationship was not improving.

And Mimi had gone off on her European mission when he, a fucking old and strong telepathic vampire, had had to retreat to for shelter and fucking now that the world was too much again.

Mariella tried to calm him down, to let it out, but now something had burst open a dam so big it would take time and there were two of them. The number two had become the same thing after the number one had remembered everything and they had talked.

The European adventure continued, and I started going through the fight clubs again, took out my rage, and was now at work. I won't fall into that trap again. Once is enough and you learn very well. Adam and Charles took all the time they had gone through the mafias. No more me trying to patch things up with Damon. He had made his choice and it sticks. We are no more. I should remember it. 

There were a lot of missions at the fleas, so I was doing a lot of things during the day, from sabotage to who knows what. The wolves were also helping to take down the mafias, so I had my job. I had to make a lot of things happen, from sabotage to street fights to mysteries to fight clubs. 

When Mariella asked me in my mind a month later, " Where are you, Mimi? I think we could help?"

I said, " No need; there has to be a commitment here, and the head has to keep up no matter what comes along. You keep on fucking. He made his choice and I do not need in this mission someone who has such a frail mind."

I didn't get a follow-up message. My message had gone through.

Because I had spoken the truth, I had done so many European jobs by now that I wanted them to go smoothly. I was fed up with these helpers who couldn't keep up with the game, and suddenly I was always finding that I had to do their job too because they were running out of steam. And it might get me more in trouble. It had been like that in the past. If someone failed who was supposed to be doing something, I had gotten extra stuff to do.

It never helped, and it was no fucking use. It was just a case of keeping the reins in your hands and carrying on as best possible. The rage helped. Then nothing feels. Let them help Adam and Charles, or keep fucking. 

I didn't blame Damons or Mariella; I had a job, a mission to save the world, and then you can't afford to have emotional crises. You just can't. When you have to save the world, and then you can look at your problems.

But when they didn't have to, because it was my job, my responsibility. And I did my job, regardless of anything else. My needs, my mind or the fragility of it, were secondary, and it had nothing to do with anything.

I went on with the job, towards Asia, country after country, from fight club to fight club. The rage helped me get quite a lot done. I was a creature with great powers, with my rage, combined with my will, and anything was possible. But as they say, with great powers comes with great responsibility and I was living proof of it, even though that phrase had been in a comic originally. 

After eight months on the job, Adam and Charles had taken down all the mobsters, but they were out of the game because they were injured. I still had six months left. This was a fucking demanding gig, and I felt it quite obviously. I had my rage, my determination and my sheer stubbornness make me pull this through.

Adam and Charles were badly injured, as were the wolves, so the Damons and Mariella had their work cut out for them. They had fucked, put their Irish castle in place, and Mariella had gone to cooking school only to find that Damon was a teacher there.

Damon was a fantastic teacher, but Mariella was always very tuned up after a day of Damon tuning her up throughout the day. There had been other women too, but Damon had teased her so much that she was almost raping him always when school ended. Adam, Charles, and the wolves all had a nasty case of the bug and were kept asleep and medicated all the time.

Mariella didn't even dare think about Mimi's condition, and Damon didn't say a word about Mimi. Not even when Mariella tried to approach him a couple of times. At one point, Mariella thought that her little game of seduction had caused those two to take a step backward again and well.

But Damon said, " Don't blame yourself at all, you couldn't have known, and besides, there was the fact that Mimi feared me in the wrong way. It takes the enthusiasm down pretty quickly. I feel guilty even though I have done nothing. "

After that, Mimi was not spoken of. And Mariella didn't even know who was going to put the lady right. Because of what she saw with men and wolves, she knew Mimi would be in awful shape after this. 

The gig went on, and Adam, Charles, and the wolves were left out of it. Magnum started running the fleas, and I went on for a whole six months on my own. I couldn't even think about why the whole pack stayed away. I knew they were fucking. It was obvious.

But then again, my God, this is a fucking European job. Mimosa told me that it had taken them a month to recover and now that they had fucked, the three of them had taken a heat period for themselves and went off to treat it. It was the same kind of moody heat period again, and now the two could concentrate on treating and not playing with chakras. And the best part. When the rush was over, they had radar. They were pregnant and would make puppies.

I didn't care. Right now, the hustle and bustle of pack life, the heat, the joy of having cubs - none of it mattered to me. It was all meaningless. I had a mission, a purpose that was paramount - saving the world. But this wasn't the first time I felt let down on a world-saving mission. Men had disappointed me in the past.

Damon was hailed as a triumph, they said. What a fucking joke. At least I didn't have to endure anyone treating me like garbage. They had a deadline for when my role would end. Then their perfect pack life would begin, but I wasn't sure if I had any interest or ability to partake in it. Not at first. Now, I still didn't know what I was going to do or how long it would take to recover.

I had options. I could fend for myself, let my anger consume me a little longer, and attempt some self-repair. I could purchase a surgical robot, implant it in Moldova, and operate on myself. I had experience with those machines in hospitals. Another option was to visit one of those medical magic houses, where healing chambers slowly mend your wounds. But now, I wasn't sure if it would work for me. It might provide some stability, or it might plunge me into hibernation.

Colin, my savior, a werewolf leprechaun hybrid. I hadn't relied on him or needed him for years, but he worked at our hospital and could be an option. He had saved me countless times throughout my life, or at least most of it. He could be a good choice.

I could go to our hospital and seek treatment. But again, the same issue arose. When you're as fucking unique as I am, not everyone can treat you. I had no clue what they could do to help me - could they bind metals, counteract poisons, battle infections?

Another option was to slip into hibernation for a month or a few weeks. Let the rage subside. Rest, and then reassess. But I had never timed my hibernation before, and I didn't know how healthy I had to be to turn it off. I didn't know how long it would take to reverse the process. And worst of all, I didn't know if it would fail. 

I decided to do a sort of hybrid strategy. The pack was not an opinion, they would have cub time. Initially, I would try to manage on my own, but I would call Colin anyway. Then I'd see if it was possible to go to a magic house to rest when the job was over.

I said to Charles in my mind, "My love, the gig is over now. I know you have little ones and just deal with them. Now I don't know when I'll be in touch again after I've had a look at where I'm off to."

Charles said, " No cubs. Damon put the radar away. Where are you? We're ready. This was Damien's fucking job all along, and now Salvatore wants to help, both of them and me."

I sighed. I knew it was Damien's job. The guy wouldn't leave me alone. He kept calling me from every number when he couldn't get to the fight clubs because Magnum had always arranged for bodyguards for me.

Mariella was seething with anger, her eyes narrowing in disbelief as she struggled to comprehend how the hell Damien had managed to manipulate all three of them into such a heat situation.

But then, as she delved into the depths of her memories, the truth unraveled before her. The drug, subtly applied to the wolves, had ignited Mariella's primal desires, and when they attracted attention, Damon coldly put cubs in hiding, back to being cells, all the innocent cubs, no more pregnancy. This was no ordinary breeding season; it was a twisted nightmare.

Impatiently, they awaited Mimi's arrival to complete the task at hand. Magnum, ever vigilant, ensured that no unauthorized individuals entered the brutal fight clubs, offering help where he could.

However, he cautioned them, "Mimi may weigh less than 30 kilos, but her fury burns bright. Her eyes are permanently blackened, and her razor-sharp vampire claws are on full display. Beware, for this lady is deadly venom personified."

Damon let out a weary sigh. It was no surprise that Mimi excelled in the art of crafting poisons; it had always been her forte. As he conversed with Charles, attempting to gather information on Mimi's whereabouts, they discovered she resided in her opulent palace in Qatar.

My own palace, I mused, feeling a mix of bitterness and irony as I arrived there. It seemed more like a damn convalescent home than anything else. Just for the sake of amusement, I disclosed my location to Charles. I expected no one to come. Now I could conceal my exhausted vampire side, allowing it to retreat into the shadows. Too fatigued to even shower, I collapsed into bed, yearning for rest. Though my body ached, I resisted sleep, instead opting to lie there, contemplating how I could regain my strength once I awoke. As darkness enveloped me, the chaos of it all finally subsided. 

Charles teleported to the grand palace, appearing in an instant. As he wandered through its corridors, he marveled at the opulence that surrounded him. The scent of poison, sickness, and weakness lingered in the air, engulfing him almost to the point of suffocation. With cautious steps, he reached the bedroom door and pushed it open.

Inside, lying on the bed, was his wife, Mimi. She looked incredibly frail, her body resembling that of a living skeleton. Charles sat beside her, his hand gently caressing her fragile form, hoping to awaken her from her slumber. But there was no response. The room was filled with an eerie silence, devoid of any sound except the pounding of his heartbeat.

A realization dawned on Charles. Mimi's soul, like a delicate butterfly, fluttered within his mind. It was her essence, her very being. She had passed away. Determined to provide solace for his wife's soul, he guided her to a sanctuary within his mind, a place where she could find healing and recovery.

Mimi's straps had failed to hold her, and now her soul lived within Charles's mind. He created an energy cage, suffused with immense love, where she could rest and rejuvenate. He fervently hoped that she would regain her strength. But she appeared so weary, so frail.

With great tenderness, Charles cradled his ethereal wife's body, wrapping it in a sheet, and teleported to the lavish Beverly Hills mansion. The Damons had prepared a medbay, expertly renovated by Mariella and them. As Charles entered the medbay, he sensed the fucking party of the Salvatores nearby. Despite Damon's assurances of help, it was clear that they were otherwise occupied.

Gently placing Mimi's lifeless body on the table, Charles unwrapped her, exposing the extent of her injuries. The skeletal figure was riddled with deep wounds, emanating the foul stench of infection, metallic substances, and poisons.

Adam, prepared and determined, took in the sight before him, uttering, "Oh my God, her condition is beyond terrible."

Charles nodded, maintaining a stoic expression even in the harsh light of the medbay. Each wound seemed like a gaping mouth, snarling at him. The journey to restore Mimi's body to health would require immense effort. Simultaneously, he poured his love into his wife's soul, though he could sense her exhaustion, making it difficult for her to fully embrace his affection.