38. I Like Chopin.

We sat on the swing, me under Charles' arm. I don't know how long until we went to dinner. it was such a good place to be. A safe, happy place for me. Damon and Mariella looked mildly disturbed, and we were kissing passionately with Charles.

I thought I would go back outside to sit on top of the food. It would be fun, and there, I could continue my reflections. It was good to think things through and maybe if Charles were with me, he might give me another perspective on things too. 

Damon said, "Charles, Shadow, and Mimosa miss the four of you. If you could help out a bit, the girls have been working hard, and now might be a good time to relax."

Charles looked dour, but said, " Fine, we can help, but it's a bit of a job. I'm not in the mood."

Mariella looked at Charles and said in a rather nasty voice, " Oh, Mimi just got your attention in that area."

Her voice was bitter and cruel. Her gaze bore into me like I would be public enemy number one.

Fine, this was a jealousy drama. I didn't comment, and neither did Charles. He glanced at me, and the corner of my mouth turned slightly upward. He was too, almost rolling his eyes to these two. I just thought we were like Romeo and Juliet, in love, but never got the chance to be happy and together right out loud in my head, and Salvatore's sharp look told me I got the point. He was spying on my thoughts and I was feeling pretty snappy with my sentences and I let them form and not hide them in my thoughts hide. 

Then, I let the next sentence come into my head. It was a pretty pointy one.

" It's strange that in this pack, one couple gets to fuck. I don't get to have anyone, and then Charles is a hired lover. I have no idea why is that. What makes Mariella's pussy the leader of this pack? "

Damon's fork twisted, and I smiled slightly. I let my next thought come. He was getting riled up and so was I. 

" That won't last long in my memories. That one doesn't know me, unlike Charles, and giving up a decade of memories won't help that cause. We're just not meant for each other like Charles and I. We are not the endgame and it is just not getting in his head."

Mariella wrapped herself around Damon. The truth came out, and Salvatore's head threatened to split open. He gazed at me sharply. He took a deep breath, untangled Mariella from him, and continued to eat. He looked at me coldly, emotionlessly.

I can do this now, and it will be easier for him to say he can't take it. I gave him the memories of three days, three days of trying to escape in the woods from the medical guys, medicated, wounded, and so completely alone. Poisoned by the gaseous metals, sedated, desperate, and in pain, I censored nothing, and as I gave those memories to him; I lived them through myself as well and he noticed it too. 

He finished his meal, I saw him struggling with these three days badly too, he thought for a moment, and said, "No more, Mimi, thanks."

Then he and Mariella left the kitchen. Charles, the boys, and Adam had already gone to the wolves, as had some salvatores, and some were cooking. He had done it and it stung, that realization that once again, I was strongest. It might feel weird why that feeling is bad, but when you are strongest, you are strongest everywhere every time because it is expected of you.

And since you are strongest, you have to protect and help others, not the other way around. And all I yearned from time to time for someone to care for me, to be stronger than me, to say to me that everything was gonna be alright and they got me. But as I was strongest, there was no one to be strong for me.

This just proved that Damon was not stronger than I and he probably never would be. I had to be strongest because it was a just fact of life. There was no room for me to be the princess, to be pampered, to be cared for. There was no time for me to rely upon others fully, knowing that they were stronger than me. It was just one more thing that made me feel even more lonely.

I started walking down the corridors, thinking, pondering, and sitting on the sofa now and then. I went to eat, and neither Damon nor Mariella showed up for three weeks. I did nothing but walk, think, and sit. It was just my mind reeling on things and me getting my mind in some sort of order. To accept my reality and my place in this pack. To see what my life was and what it would be.

I put my head in order, tried not to go into my shell, and endured these feelings, alone as always. I tried to do this to show everyone that I could change too, to be different. 

It wasn't easy, not by any means, and I realized that I've always protected myself. I've shown nobody anything, and maybe this will help. I used to get quite a few looks when I went out to eat. It seemed that when one is living in packs of powerful telepaths there is monitoring of one's thoughts too and my little pondering had gotten them thinking too; they were looking at me like they did not know me at all and in reality; they did not. 

There were always only a few salvatores in the kitchen, 3,4,6, 8, mostly sometimes 9,10, but no one paid that kind of attention to me other than my nutrition. It was important to get it right. I was fed and my blood tasted, but no one drained me, or offered their blood for me.

Damon was lying next to Mariella and said, "Mimi and I are not where I hoped we would be. Now I see it, and when it's because of me. I have to fuck right at her, cuddle you on the couch, be cold and distant, and I don't even understand myself. And I couldn't take any more of those memories. I know, I can guess what Mimi had suffered after those days, and I should have been strong, taken the memories, and helped her, but why can't I? Those three days, that desperation, and then when I failed her she was disappointed in my weakness and so am I."

Mariella stroked Damon and said, " Leave her alone. We are not concentrating on that. We, us, enjoy us. Let our relationship be your world and let it go. Don't think about Mimi or her problems. "

Damon looked at his wife and said, "I'm focused on us. Don't get jealous of Mimi, you know - that shit is ending right now. "

Damon's voice was icy, raw, and cruel, and Mariella knew she had better obey, restrain herself, and try to be a good girl. Damon rolled away from her and went into the shower. Mariella got up and followed.

She said, "Damon, I didn't mean to be jealous. I just can't and don't want to watch you torture yourself for Mimi. That fight changed things and even after she gave you her memories, she is different. Give yourself time and those things Mimi sent. I don't know how that girl can take that shit in her head, but somehow she can so give yourself time, focus on this moment."

Damon looked at his wife and said, "Mimi's not a victim; it's not worth thinking about, but I think it's time we did something more than fuck, don't you? Because I want to. I am not fucking machine."

Mariela went with Damon for a more frantic shower, and then they would go to breakfast. What they would do next remained to be seen. Damon picked out clothes for her and did her hair, and she found she was already used to this, but even so, she felt that Damon would have appreciated or sometimes wanted her to fight back.

Be full of sparks in the same way that Mimi was. But when she wasn't Mimi. Compared to Mimi, she was a tame cat. Sure, she could challenge and annoy Damon in bed, make up phrases, but Damon always beat her and knew it. But whether he beat Mimi, even Marielle didn't know that.

Who could tame Mimi? Probably no one ever would, not even Charles, and Mariella was jealous of how wild, untamed, and almost a force of nature Mimi was. Mimi stood up to everything and didn't break; she was tough and invincible.

They went out to dinner, and Mariella noticed how different these new Salvatores were, cooking, fixing things, chatting, they even had their own rooms made where they watched TV, and matches, and enjoyed themselves, not fucking all the time.

Although she had given the magic potion that all sides were united, they had changed. Mimi had reportedly already eaten, and Mariella ate what was put in front of her. Charles was on a roll, and he and the others had only stopped playing with the wolves recently.

They were eating and talking about whatever. The men seemed to talk about some match again, but Damon was quiet, frowning now and then, and Mariella realized he was investigating what Mimi had been up to for three weeks.

I was sitting on the roof. It was a good place, with some privacy, and I could be in the nice crisp autumn air, watching the leaves fall from the trees, birds flying over me now and then. I went over a lot of things that had happened in the seven years I had now, the time that I had.

I learned that I, too, had to work through it all, accept it, and move on—find my mistakes. Mistakes sometimes cost lives and my health, but those were mistakes I tried to learn from. I didn't know, and I didn't think there would ever come a time when I would be wise enough and in control enough that when I took out my rage, I would also take out my discernment. I was in the pack but different from the others, not just in my strength but in my experience in life.

I was a hardened, experienced creature whose soul had been shattered by the emotional toll, by painful experiences, and also by my memories. I felt somehow so broken that I had no memory of what it felt to be whole, not this broken, and I realized I had been broken most of my supernatural life. My life had not been easy, not in any way.

It's easy for the Salvatores to be together because they know each other. Mariella and Damon are made for each other, and the foursome and the wolves have something in common that I will never have. They had that seven years too and so much more. They were the same species, more or less. 

Because I will never be an energy being or a magical being, I'm always chaos first, where salvatores are vampires, boys are cats, wolves, and Mariella. We all have our roles and how we see ourselves, but it also affects how others see us and, in my case, how I let others see me. I don't share and reveal everything when it's not helpful.

I saw myself as female more than a woman, whereas Mariella and Wolves keep their femininity in front. My battle-hardened soul was not so interested in dressing nicely or making sure that someone would put my hair up. I was not sure what I was. I was triple-alpha; I was The Chaos; I was a multi-shapeshifter vampire hybrid. I was siphon, the strongest in the universe. Sure, I could find words that tell what I was, but the question remained: who I was?

I was determined to learn from my mistakes and I was sure that I had made them and lot. I continued to work on it by going through it myself every day, one day at a time; if it was a vague memory of me being imprisoned in a medical facility, drugged, restrained, and helpless.

I tried to focus on it, to notice something I hadn't noticed before. My memories were clear now from the drug haze as I focused on them properly. And it helped so much when I started noticing all those escape opportunities, my opportunities, everything that I didn't notice when I wasn't paying attention, letting my emotions guide me. 

The despair, the panic, the loneliness. I wasn't a clinical, objective flea when I was a hurt Mimi, a lonely, abandoned wretch who couldn't find an escape. In these cases, my emotions had been my downfall, my weakness too. It was an excellent lesson, bitter as hell, but if I ever found myself in the same situation, at least I might have been able to put myself in the right frame of mind.

I was sitting on the roof thinking, and I didn't even notice when Damon got there when he said, " Baby, you were drugged with such poisons that you couldn't do anything. I know I can't handle all those memories, but what I caught, give yourself grace, accept, and move on. Stop this guilt trip. Stop looking for every mistake because it doesn't help. You wouldn't have gotten away with it. Too good a guard on you. You see, now, baby, when I always look into the past besides, I see behind the scenes. I saw what hospitals, how many, and what kind of security things were there. You wouldn't have escaped, believe me."

I looked at Damon, who was standing nearby, looking at me, and I said, " Yeah, maybe, but there's always room for improvement, and I've got to learn. I am strongest and for me to be able to be the strongest, these are lessons I need to learn."

Damon looked at me closely and said, " You haven't slept. You have done nothing but reel things off in your head for three weeks, right? And for what good is that?"

I laughed and said, "I'm fine. It is just my way of dealing with and not suppressing everything. This is new to me, so this takes time for me to learn how to do this. Go be with Mariella."

Damon approached me, grabbed my hand, and lifted me as well.

He said, " You'll get more power in your pathos as you reel and ponder. It's not good for you. Not at all. Just let the past be the past, Mimi. You couldn't have done anything."

His voice was gentle but firm and he looked right in my soul or at least it felt like it. 

He took me inside and said, "Besides, it's quite cool out there. You could do with some warmth."

We went into the kitchen, where this individual fed me first after he had drunk me dry, so I woke up from the couch in a huff. No matter how delicious I am, I don't appreciate being drained of my blood.

Damon looked at me with a raised eyebrow and said, " Come and eat. As you can see, I have set the table as it should be. You will sit next to me again, to my right, and Mariella will have her seat. You being at the end of the table doesn't work. "

Oh fuck, I got up and then walked to my new seat and ate when my husband came over and fed me. Oh well, that was a wonderful exercise in self-control. I was not used to being fed and my alpha side wanted so much to interfere but I kept my control fully on.

He said, " One day, we'll go on, the seven years, and I'll help. I'll tell you when I'm ready for the next day, then I can dispel and help."

I looked at Damon for a moment and said, " No need. Lepard will help. He's a telepath, too, and can help just like you. He doesn't have your problems."

Damon sighed and said, " Yes, Lepard is a telepath but inexperienced. I am much, much more experienced. I can do it gently enough so that, for example, all the memories are not erased. Telepathy is not a simple force to control, and lepard's rage, my love. Everything affects this ability, and he hasn't mastered it yet. And it doesn't do you any good if he erases a memory when you have it somewhere, and you instinctively dig it up. And you're chaos, and that's something you have to consider when doing these things with you. Of course, I have. We all have the power of chaos, but I don't always understand you when you are a chaos. It is a whole unique thing to have chaos power and then be the chaos personified. "

He kept feeding me, eating himself now and then, and looking at me hotly. He said, " Very good baby, you still have manners and are a good little wife."

I didn't take up the challenge, and he got me fed when Mariella came into the kitchen and snuggled up to Damon like she hadn't seen him in weeks. They kissed, and I was still at the dishwasher, just putting the dishes in when Mariella came in, glued me to the wall too, and kissed me passionately.

We hadn't kissed in a long, long time, and I showed this woman what I could do. I wrapped her up against the wall. I glued our bodies together, passionately kissed her as roughly as I could, and let a little dental substance drip into my mouth, a stimulant.

Because I still wanted my privacy, and I wasn't in the mood to fuck. Then I let her go and watched as she attacked Damon, who was looking at me firmly. He saw what I just did, and he could do nothing about it. He just went with the flow and teleported off with Mariella.