38. Cartoon Heroes.

As Charles made his way to retrieve Mimi, Mariella and Damon anxiously waited, their bodies entwined but their minds preoccupied with the upcoming task. The room was filled with a mixture of anticipation and worry, as they needed to know where they were headed. Damon's voice, tinged with darkness, broke the silence as he voiced his concerns to Mariella.

"I hope to hell that Mimi behaves," Damon whispered, his words hanging heavy in the air. "I hope Cornick can keep his wits about him when dealing with her. I don't want him ending up in the medbay poisoned soon."

The gravity of the situation weighed on his voice. Damon knew that Mimi possessed the ability to create powerful poisons and toxins, capable of bringing even him down. What Magnum had told him only added to his uncertainty about Mimi's behavior. Not even Charles could guarantee her compliance. She was a truly dangerous creature.

Mariella sighed, her eyes closing as she focused her senses on her protector radar. She could see that Charles was physically fine, but his stress and distress were evident. It seemed that Mimi's behavior was far from pleasant.

Turning to Damon, she spoke softly, concern lacing her words. "I will ask about Mimi. Charles seems distressed."

Damon grunted in response, his worry etched on his face.

Mariella pressed further, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Have you had any contact with Mimi? How difficult is she to calm down?"

Charles, now fully focused on caring for his wife, answered curtly. His mind was consumed with thoughts of what to do next with this skeleton of a person.

"She's in a coma. Unresponsive. Adam and I are about to go into surgery. No need for medication now."

A heavy silence filled the room as Mariella absorbed the information.

Then a determination filled her voice. "We're on our way. Don't operate until Damon gets a chance to see Mimi. He'll be able to assess if medication is necessary."

Charles, his mind elsewhere, replied with a hint of frustration. "When she doesn't need it, she's dead. Mimi is in my head. The straps were gone before I arrived."

Mariella's response was soft but resolute. "Oh, that's terrible. Well, we're on our way. We'll help you put her back in shape and aid her healing."

She turned to Damon, her voice barely a whisper. "She's dead, in Charles's mind, and he's fiercely protective of her. I imagine she's in a dire state."

Damon's voice was filled with regret as he murmured. "It's my fault. If I had been normal, we could have taken that room. Not just been fucking all the time, but actually been with her on the mission..."

There was nothing more for Mariella to say. Damon's words had spoken the truth, and the weight of their choices hung heavy in the air. 

As Charles and Adam tenderly tended to Mimi's body, Charles whispered to Adam, "The trio is approaching. Mimi now rests in the depths of my mind. Fortunately, I still recall that shelter. She will be alright, but she is incredibly fragile and exhausted. It will take time for her to regain strength and return to her body."

Adam nodded, feeling his frustration building, his anger surging within him. He yearned to shout at someone, to take action, but he suppressed his emotions, focusing on his role as a doctor, determined to help this skeletal form.

Mimi had once again sacrificed everything for the European gig, and Adam knew that if Salvatore had held himself together, the entire performance would have unfolded differently.

After an intense shower, they dressed themselves, gathering their composure and adopting a medical mindset. Damon pursued Mariella into the medical bay, while Adam and Charles meticulously washed Mimi's body, preparing it for surgery. The sight was ghastly - a mere skeleton draped in skin. Scars and wounds marred the body, emitting a putrid odor of infection and sickness.

Damon could see the filth in the water, and even the bloodless, gaping wounds seemed to mock him, accusing him. The overwhelming stench and the presence of broken bones and shards of metal made him momentarily freeze.

Gathering his resolve, he joined the others, and soon Mariella and another assistant lent their aid as well. It was a painstaking process to remove the foreign objects and cleanse the grime from Mimi's body.

Eventually, they managed to transport Mimi's body to the operating room. For now, they couldn't implant organs; they had to wait until the body showed signs of recovery. It would be a long journey to restore her to optimal health, considering she had willingly sacrificed herself once again for the sake of others.

Though they had enough energy to return Mimi to her body, Charles hesitated, recognizing her immense fatigue. He could sense it.

Addressing the others, he said, "She is too frail, too weak. She should remain in my mind. I will offer her love, allow her to rest and heal before she must inhabit her own sick and feeble body."

Mariella turned to Damon and asked, "Can you aid in Mimi's mental recovery? Do you wish to?"

Damon responded, "In theory, as a telepath, I could assist, but the real question is, do I have the right?"

Mariella gently rebuked him, saying, "Darling, that is not the right question. There are no rights when it comes to helping. There are only obligations to help."

Damon gazed at her, his gaze heavy with resignation. He studied Mariella intently, taking in the determined expression etched on her face. As he gently held her shoulders, his hands trembled slightly, his fingertips brushing against the fabric of her blouse.

Locking his gaze with her vibrant green emerald eyes, he spoke softly, "Fine, but only if Charles permits it. I won't impose my will. Charles has cared for Mimi during her fragile state before."

Mariella approached Charles, her body instinctively gravitating towards his. She slid her hands beneath his shirt, tracing the contours of his powerful physique, marveling at his magnificence. Thoughts of their intimate moments danced through her mind, yearning for him to passionately fulfill her desires.

Sensing his tension, anger, and pent-up emotions, she understood he couldn't fully release them with wolves.

She whispered, her voice dripping like honey, attempting to seduce him, "Charles, my love, I'm unsure if you love me, but could you consider allowing Damon to aid Mimi's mental recovery? Damon possesses immense telepathic powers as an energy being, and he could help Mimi regain strength faster."

Charles grunted, his response laden with uncertainty. "I don't know, not at the moment. Look into my mind, and you'll witness her current state - exhausted and fragile. And Damon, well, what if his intentions are too forceful? Mimi can't endure any stress; she simply needs a tranquil space filled with love. It will take time, but we'll get there. I know Damon blames himself. Perhaps that's why he wants to help, but I want to assist out of love, not guilt."

Mariella delved into Charles's mind, his thoughts guiding her towards the energy box where Mimi lay at rest. Mimi appeared utterly drained, having fought with every ounce of her being. The intensity of her rage, constantly unleashed for months, had taken a toll on her mental state. Mariella recognized her exhaustion, realizing that she was far from ready to return to her physical body, not just yet. 

Mariella understood Charles' concern as she watched his furrowed eyebrows and worried expression. But at the same time, while love is a powerful force, it is not enough on its own unless you can make it go somewhere.

She could feel Charles's love for Mimi surrounding her, cocooning Mimi. At the moment, it was a bit like Mimi needed to get something inside her, and what she needed was outside of her, but she couldn't get it inside her yet. Love surrounding her was like a warm, comforting blanket, but she needed that love to seep inside her, like a gentle, healing touch.

And right now, it seeped so very slowly, like a sluggish stream, so it would take ages for her to get stronger in order to fully grasp that love and pull it into her.

Mariella knew Damon could direct his love inside Mimi with his telepathy. She had seen him do it before, and she knew it would take time and effort, but it would still be faster than with Charles. Now she needed to get Charles on board.

Mariella said, still touching Charles, trying to ease his worries, "Let Damon try. He's very gentle. You've seen for yourself every time he takes care of Mimi. If he can get some power into Mimi so that she starts to absorb it herself, then Mimi will get into her body."

Charles furrowed his eyebrows even deeper, his worry evident on his face. He hesitated for a moment before finally sighing and saying, "Fine, but if there is the slightest doubt, then..."

Mariella sighed, her breath heavy with a mix of relief and concern.

She reached out to Damon telepathically through their soulmate bond. "Are you ready? You have to be very gentle with her. She is truly frail. Remember to control yourself so Mimi doesn't panic. Somewhere, there have been fear demons. I feel their effects, and they've worn Mimi down even though she hasn't felt them with rage."

Damon prepared himself mentally and emotionally, steeling his resolve. He could feel the weight of the responsibility on his shoulders. Soon, he had his own energy cradle already made, a shimmering, translucent structure of pure love and healing energy.

He turned to Charles and said, his voice calm and reassuring, "Just put her here. I'll catch up."

Charles focused, his hands trembling slightly as he carefully transported Mimi, her frail body barely making a sound from his mind into Damon's. He gently placed her in Damon's energy cradle, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Charles hoped with all his heart that he was not making a mistake, that this would be the solution they had been searching for. 

Damon felt the faint faintness of Mimi, a delicate sensation that enveloped him like a whisper. He kept himself under control, his heart pounding in his chest, as shock coursed through his veins. The sight before him was devastating. Mimi, weaker than she had been when her once vibrant spirit was drained by the ravenous incubi, had been lifeless for a week. She was now so much weaker, barely holding on.

Gently, Damon placed Mimi in an energy cradle, its soft hum soothing his frayed nerves. With every touch, he tried to infuse his love into her, a bittersweet exchange of energy. He knew it would be a slow process, aware that recovery would not come easily for Mimi in Charles' mind. Even with his telepathic abilities, this took some genuine effort.

Damon devoted himself to the task at hand, tirelessly feeding Mimi's depleted energy. It was a painstaking journey, starting with meager amounts, and requiring endless patience. He had to adapt to his telepathy, exploring unfamiliar territory in his efforts to revive her. A week passed before Damon strengthened Mimi enough to dare consider merging her consciousness with her body.

As Mimi lay peacefully, unaided by drugs, Damon understood it was a waiting game once again. He sat faithfully by her bedside, his sighs mingling with the hushed whispers of hope. The room carried a sense of anticipation, the air pregnant with the scent of uncertainty. He hoped she would wake up, so badly.

Mariella, understanding the weight of their shared burden, took Damon and number two back to Ireland. There, they sought solace in each other's embrace, their bodies a conduit to release the darkness that had consumed Mimi. Charles and Adam remained vigilant, promising to inform them when Mimi finally awakened.

I woke up in my body, feeling the soft warmth of the morning sunlight streaming through the curtains. Memories of Damon's love correcting and strengthening me flooded my mind. Though still tired, I longed for the refreshing feeling of a cool shower. Months had passed in this condition, but time seemed elusive. I knew I wasn't in my best shape yet. Determined, I left the comfort of my bed and made my way to the bathroom.

The sound of water cascading from the showerhead filled the air as I indulged in a long, invigorating shower. The cool droplets revived my senses, washing away any lingering fatigue. As I lathered my hair, the scent of my favorite shampoo filled the steamy air, leaving a delightful fragrance in its wake. I admired my newly cut and bleached hair, untouched since the gig. The transition from long red locks to platinum blonde straight hair brought a sense of ease and simplicity to my daily routine.

Alone in this space, I thought to myself, "Finally, some peace and solitude."

Though my body felt weak, I could sense my pulse, weak yet rapid, a reminder that my heart was still healing. I had a heart, small but working, meaning I would most likely have other organs too. But not yet fully grown. This was all part of the growth process.

Familiarity embraced me as I recognized my surroundings, my sanctuary in Beverly Hills. The sweltering heat outside was no match for the cool comfort provided by the efficient air conditioning. This haven was perfect for my recovery, a sanctuary where I could mend at my own pace.

I retreated to my room, exchanging my worn attire for a lovely spaghetti-style short nightgown. Ensuring the air conditioning was working optimally, I settled in. The TV flickered to life, filling the room with a soft glow and the faint sound of voices from various programs.

In my hand, a tank of bump, chilled to perfection, awaited me. I had a kind of straw attached to the tank where I sipped this chilled treat. I adjusted its position, ensuring the coolness against my skin. Sipping the bump, I felt its rejuvenating effects wash over me, as I drifted into a peaceful nap. This was the essence of recovery–allowing oneself to rest and heal, detached from the demands of the world.

Although a fleeting thought about my misplaced phone crossed my mind, I had little desire to embark on a search for it. For now, I focused on my well-being, just as I had done after shed sessions. Time was on my side, and with patience, I knew I would find it eventually. So, I carried on, embracing the freedom to do things at my own pace, confident that healing would come with time. I was so tired that I fell asleep.

Mariella's curses echoed through the room, her anger palpable as she reflected on the past. Her vocabulary, influenced by Mimi, was now filled with a selection of colorful curse words.

Damon, observing her fury, responded in a slightly arrogant voice, seemingly annoyed by her outburst. "Darling, what's the matter? Why the language?" he asked. 

Through gritted teeth, Mariella explained, "Adam and Charles abandoned Mimi and went after Damien. Little Miss Mimi conveniently failed to mention that Damien had been constantly calling her, and Charles happened to answer, giving Damien an audience. The boys became irritated, and now no one has looked after Mimi for a week. I don't even know if she's sleeping or not."

Damon's tone softened as he responded, "So, St. Charles and St. Adam have actually left Mimi and gone off who knows where? Fine. Number two and I will go pick up the gentlemen at home. You go check on Mimi."

Mariella nodded, seething with anger towards the two boneheads. They quickly showered, their movements frantic, before selecting clothes for Mariella and leaving together.

Mariella stepped through the portal to Beverly Hills and found herself in an empty medbay. Determined, she shifted her focus to locating Mimi. She had no desire to report back to herself; she wanted to see for herself what Mimi was up to. Guided by the scent of Mimi's infection, which smelled pretty much in the air still, Mariella worked hard to find the entrance to the section of the house where Mimi lived. It annoyed her it was so difficult to locate; her mood had become increasingly irritable, and she was eager to voice her opinion on the matter.

Once again, she found herself surrounded by opulent and extravagant rooms. At the end of the corridor, there stood a large white door adorned with a golden handle and vampire-inspired ornaments. Mariella realized that the gold was genuine, which only added to the grandeur. She turned the handle and pushed open the door.

The room was a haven of luxury, with plush carpets, a massive bed, and a serene color scheme of pastel shades. The air conditioning hummed efficiently, creating a comfortable atmosphere. Sitting on a large sofa was Mimi, dressed only in a spaghetti strap nightie. Mariella's heart pounded in her chest as she took in Mimi's skeletal appearance, her once vibrant flesh now chilled and bluish. It was deeply unsettling, and Mariella knew she had to act quickly.

Understanding the trauma of the situation, Mariella strode over to Mimi and accidentally but forcefully kicked the bump tank. She glanced at it, seeing it was chilled and knowing that it was one of the things that caused Mimi's deteriorating state.

She gently lifted Mimi into her arms and in an instant, they teleported to the sterile environment of Medbay. As she held Mimi, she couldn't help but notice how weightless she felt, as if she were a feather. The surrounding air felt frigid, sending chills down her spine.

In her mind, she urgently conveyed to her husband, "Mimi is hypothermic, her body chilled to the bone. I'm rushing her to Medbay. But why is this happening? I've experienced it too, now."

Damon immediately understood the situation. Adam and Charles had been sent to a Pennsylvania mansion as part of Damon's unconventional teaching methods, enduring his "will balls" for a week.

Damon responded, "We're on our way. Those two idiots are learning their lessons with my will balls in the Pennsylvania mansion. What's the status?"

Mariella didn't have a chance to answer as she focused on finding a visible vein to insert the cannula. However, Mimi's icy coldness made it difficult. Her blood pressure was barely detectable, and finding a vein proved to be a challenging task.

Just then, Damon and number two teleported to Medbay. Damon approached Mariella, noticing her trembling hands.

In a reassuring tone, he said, "Let me assist you with a spell to make the vein visible."

With a wave of his hand, he cast a transparency spell, easing Mariella's task of inserting the cannula. After a bit of effort, she successfully secured it in place.

Mariella, still in shock, spoke with a trembling voice, "Her hair is wet, indicating she has recently showered. The air conditioning in the room was on, and her big tank of bump was cold."

Damon sighed, leading Mariella a little further away from the scene, allowing them a moment of respite. They teleported back to their bedroom, where they remained for a couple of hours, abiding by their two-hour rule. When they received news that Mimi was regaining consciousness, despite her body still being chillingly cold at 34 degrees Celsius, they knew it was time to return to Medbay.

I woke up to the fact that I was hot again and tried to get cool. But I was strapped down. Oh, or something like that. I opened my eyes and saw the two looking at me questioningly.

He said, " Congratulations, Mimi, now the entire pack has experienced that feeling you get when they find you hypothermic on the sofa or whatever. May I ask what you were doing?"

I said, "I've got a heart. It's small and beating pretty fast, so I took a shower, went to one nest, took a tank of bump, and started watching TV, sipping on the bump, and taking a nap. Recovering as I had done after shed sessions. it will take time, but this has been my way of doing things."

The second grunted and said, " Do you know how much you weigh at the moment? 24 kilos. That's the kind of weight that's not worth moving. Then what's your temperature when you're in that skeletal stage? You know you don't keep your temperature very well, so you don't shower or sip liters of the cold bump. "

I looked at him all innocently. I was too tired to defend my actions, which seemed pretty stupid, but then again, I was never claimed to be the genius of this pack.

The two looked at me, and he, too, brushed my hair away from my forehead and said, " And you have to say if Damien calls. Adam and Charles had gone after him when he called your phone and fucked them up really badly. Those two idiots are now in a Pennsylvania mansion, learning their lesson."

His voice was gentler now, and I felt this connection in between us. Different from I had with number one. 

He tilted his head and said, "We're not talking. So we have never spoken when we should. And that was an excellent skill to learn—case in point: the clothing thing. I did not know that Damien hated you when you bought him clothes. I can understand now that you didn't dare talk about it and what I saw in your memories, that Damien, he could imitate me frighteningly well. Number One and I are what we are; we both feel responsible for your present condition. When we didn't finish the job, we weren't your backup. I told you I don't do what if play? Or number one has said, but anyway. What would have been the result if we had lasted the gig? "

He did not wait for me to answer, not really no. Then number two walked away.

Once again, I was alone, helplessly bound and cold. Now, Adam and Charles had gone off to do stupid things, so I couldn't even get them to take care of me. I just had to hang on. It was time for me to be strong again. I was just too damn tired, but I had to be strong. Be the flea. ice queen. 

Two came and hung the bags on the drip and put them open.

He looked at me and said, " A little sleep will do you good, then. When you wake up, you'll be in better shape, and we'll get to the wedding one day."

Ah, the fucking wedding. You can't get rid of them. Whatever was in the bags took effect, and I fell unconscious, hoping that when I woke up, I'd be in Charles's or Adam's arms. But I fell asleep thinking about it.