22. Billie Jean.

Damon and Mariella lay side by side, their bodies pressed against the soft sheets. Mariella's gaze was fixed on Damon, sensing an air of determination surrounding him. She recognized that look, the one that signaled his unwavering resolve.

Concerned, she couldn't help but ask, "Honey, what's on your mind?"

Damon turned to his wife, his eyes meeting hers for a fleeting moment. "Well, darling, you may not possess telepathic abilities, but I must confess something. Mimi's memories hold an incredible power. You see, there's a potency within them that my telepathy craves, and I desire more of it. What do you think if I were to take hold of Mimi? I'll sedate her and delve into her memories. All you have to do is be persuasive, using your charm and gentle persuasion. We need her to trust us completely, to unlock those memories together."

As he spoke, Mariella's internal groan grew louder. She could see the flaws in his plan, but she felt powerless to intervene. She wasn't a telepath, after all. Sometimes, there were lessons to be learned in moments like these.

Damon continued, his enthusiasm undeterred.

"And then, if I come across nightmares or haunting memories within Mimi's mind, I can mark them, leaving a trace or energy signature to reveal their origin. We can then trace them back to that nightmare factory we encountered before. Remember the surge of power you gained from that? However, Mimi has completely transformed the contents of her mind, making it challenging for me to access every corner, even with my deep connection to her thoughts. She's a resilient girl, if only I could earn her complete trust. A genuine trust. That would enable our alpha powers to unite once more. It would be a tremendous aid, combining the forces of the alphas. Don't you agree, my love?"

Mariella studied Damon intently, her gaze lingering on his face. She attempted to convey her doubts, but with a gentle touch, not wanting to upset him or elicit a negative reaction.

Pausing for a moment, she carefully chose her words, maintaining a neutral tone. "Yes, I suppose it will strengthen you," she began, "but please remember that these sessions can be quite challenging for Mimi. She may resist and put up a fight."

Damon emitted a low grunt, his voice dripping with dryness as he responded, "Don't worry, darlin'. I have a collection of potent drugs to handle that. I'll make sure to use them. No need for you to concern yourself or try to change my mind. After all, I am a telepath who can delve into your thoughts, so I know what you're thinking."

Mariella pondered for a moment, carefully controlling her thoughts, searching for a way to keep a watchful eye on Damon.

She suggested, "Would you like me to accompany you?"

Damon glanced at his wife, his gaze firm. "Actually, no," he replied, "This is a one-on-one connection I need to establish with Mimi. It's not the time for jealousy or attempts to seduce me away from her, understand, darlin'?"

Mariella nodded, sensing an edge in Damon's voice, realizing it was wise not to push the matter further. However, jealousy still gnawed at Mariella, even though she didn't desire to be in Mimi's shoes. She knew she would be rendered helpless, drugged, as Damon unearthed the darkest memories.

Mariella understood she had to handle this situation cautiously, allowing Damon to handle Mimi, but intervening when things went too far or lasted too long. She needed to find the courage to stand up when necessary. Damon was driven by greed, and Mariella knew him well enough to understand that this wouldn't end well. He needed to learn a lesson, too.

Damon locked eyes with his wife, knowing full well that, as a telepath, he could hear her thoughts right in the open. Mariella's jealousy was palpable. However, it didn't faze him. He had a hold on her as well. He could handle her in his own sharp manner and teach her a few lessons, too. How he relished those moments of instruction. But he had to prepare for the place soon.

Damon's mind raced, contemplating the kind of cocktail he needed, the specific drugs he would use. He pondered if his teeth would suffice, but they always induced a deep slumber in Mimi. If they discovered Mimi was stressed, they administered additional sedation to the baby. So, he couldn't rely solely on his teeth. No, he would have to fetch drugs from the cupboard beforehand. 

Damon gazed at his wife, Mariella, as the morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on her face.

"I think I'm going to embark on this job, darling," he declared, his voice filled with determination. "No matter how long it takes, you mustn't get involved. There will be consequences if you do, my dear. Actions have consequences, remember that. If necessary, I'll be more than willing to teach you a lesson for a few days or even weeks. So, mind your behavior, darling..."

Rising from the cozy bed, Damon refreshed himself with a soothing shower and slipped into his clothes. His mind was consumed with a plan to secretly drug Mimi. He possessed a powerful concoction, one that required injection. However, before proceeding, he needed to disorient Mimi slightly. Surprisingly, this turned out to be an exhilarating prospect, infusing him with a surge of power. The sensation made him feel invincible.

Heading to the Medbay, Damon gathered an assortment of drugs, meticulously arranging them in a small bag alongside syringes and needles. Cannulas were omitted, as he aimed to minimize Mimi's stress levels.

Perhaps, if executed correctly, this endeavor could ease some of Mimi's medication anxiety. In his self-centered mindset, Damon convinced himself that his actions were justified. He firmly believed there was nothing inherently wrong with his approach.

With all his preparations in order, Damon set up a designated room to store the drugs and proceeded towards the bustling kitchens, aware that Mimi would likely be enjoying a meal there.

I was still savoring my meal, the aroma of the food filling the kitchen, when Damon abruptly entered the room, casting me a peculiar look. Confusion flickered in my mind for a moment, but before I could make sense of the situation, the wolves unexpectedly sauntered into the kitchen, their presence adding an air of intrigue. Fine, I thought, perhaps a diversion was in order, considering the relentless fucking I had endured in recent weeks. I had indulged in my primal desires, having plenty of raucous fun, so why not let them captivate the attention of those wolves as well?

Having finished my meal, I contemplated using the opportunity to organize my hamster storage. Oblivious to Damon's intentions, I ventured toward the hamster warehouse, only to be abruptly seized by him. He lunged at me, forcefully pinning me against the wall, leaving me no room to escape as he trapped my hands. Desperation surged through me as I struggled against his grip, attempting to break free, but his energy enveloped me, rendering my efforts futile.

With a resolute tone, Damon declared, "No use. You're not going anywhere. Just be a good girl."

His voice lacked seduction; instead, it carried a determined edge. Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced my arm, causing me to curse inwardly. So, he intended to drug me, taking out his frustrations. Unleashing my rage, I braced myself for the inevitable.

Damon's words sliced through the air. "Fine, I can control you in that department, too."

He yanked my hair, forcing my head to tilt to the side. As the needle stealthily penetrated the skin behind my ear, a sensation of pressure washed over me, signaling the drug's intrusion into my brain. My grasp on anger slipped away, while Damon continued to restrain me firmly. The drug he had injected into my arm swiftly incapacitated my legs, and darkness engulfed me as dizziness consumed my senses.

Whispering into my ear, Damon hissed, "Come on, baby. Don't worry, don't fight. Good girl. There's nothing you can do; just calm down nice and easy there."

Those chilling words lingered in my mind as the abyss claimed my consciousness entirely.

Damon then carried the unconscious Mimi into the room. The fact that he had to put Mimi's rage away was not ideal, but Damon was going to take that into account. He would keep Mimi warm and safe. The first cocktail he had injected into Mimi still worked. Mimi was still unconscious. He was so ready for this and he was convinced that he was helping, not hurting her and he just did not see what he was actually doing. 

That drug had worked well; Mimi would wake up soon, at least a little, but the drug would also keep her well-sedated for 8 hours after she woke up. She would be easy to influence, easy to control, and obedient to his will. He prepared another cocktail. He put a thin needle in it and then put the ready syringe on the table. He walked over to Mimi and took her in his arms. He was stroking, caressing, holding her safe. It wasn't long before Mimi responded.

I regained consciousness, finding myself cradled in Damon's embrace. His gentle strokes and soothing words surrounded me, but confusion clouded my mind. I struggled to clear my hazy thoughts, my heavy eyelids barely able to open. With a groan, I attempted to move, searching for any semblance of clarity. The drugs coursing through me rendered me sluggish, and my senses dulled.

Despite my feeble attempts to resist, Damon reassured me, "Just let go. The medicine will do its work, my love. This is therapy, and I'll guide you through it. Try to remember something from the past seven years. Anything at all. Share a memory, no matter how ordinary. Come on, my darling, start remembering."

His voice, warm and comforting, gently urged me to delve into my memories, to recapture the emotions tied to them. I fought to ignore his coaxing, but a strange calmness enveloped me, leaving me defenseless against the flood of memories that overwhelmed my mind.

Damon continued to guide me, his words shaping the memories he wanted me to recall. Yet, unlike before, he didn't fade them away. His insatiable greed took hold, and he reveled in the memories along with me. I felt the same emotions, the same panic and distress, but the drugs rendered me utterly helpless.

Desperate to escape his grasp, I made countless attempts to break free. I pleaded for him to stop, to spare me from remembering the pain, the agony, and the helplessness. But nothing was enough for him. I could sense him injecting a needle into my vein, intensifying my drugged state while his demands grew more insistent. My resistance crumbled, shattered by his relentless pursuit of power. I became more helpless, trapped in a cycle of medicated haze and unwanted confinement in his arms.

He wouldn't let me go. He held me tight. I didn't know how to vent my rage. Nothing. I used with I got; I tried at least. He got upset when I fought back. He started shoving his telepathy more into my head. With his psychic powers, he bruised my mind. I was hurting.

He started to ravage my memories. He almost blew them wide open, forcing me to live with them. Memory after another and I knew that there was something that I did not want him to see and I desperately kept my secrets, letting him hurt my mind. 

As Damon continued to prod Mimi's mind, he became almost addicted to the power and began to demand more of it. He was ignoring Mimi's protests. He relentlessly used drugs and his own powers of telepathy to break down Mimi's resistance and get the power he wanted; it gave such an enormous boost that it was a must-have.

So when Charles came to rescue Mimi with Mariella three weeks later, Damon was furious.

But Mariella said, her voice was firm and unyielding, "Damon, stop. You're hurting Mimi; that's too cruel. Now stop it. Mimi is going to recover now, and then at some point, maybe we'll see what this little stunt of yours has done, but you're coming with me now."

Damon looked at his wife and said, " Don't boss me, darling. You know I have a problem with that."

Mariella looked at Damon and said, " Come on, grumpy, this will help, and you know it."

Damon followed Mariella into the bedroom and accepted the challenge when his wife challenged him.

Then someone picked me up in their arms, took me away, and held me close until I fell asleep. Charles. I understood nothing except that now I had to be safe, to sleep, to hope there would be no nightmares. I didn't even bother to think about why Damon did what he did. I just squeezed Charles tight and tried to fall asleep. Time after time, I woke up anyway and had nightmares.

All the things Damon had dug up but hadn't faded away. I sometimes shivered in Charles' arms; he spoke low and soothingly every time before I relaxed, even for a moment. Sometimes, I was in Adam's arms, too. I didn't know how long I'd been there, but I couldn't get myself together yet.

No Salvatore could help Mimi. They didn't dare. They didn't know what all Damon had done in Mimi's mind, and they weren't going in there now to screw around or investigate anything yet. Lepard, as well, just looked lightly at what Damon had done. It was quite a mess. But nothing so critical. Memories, horrors.

He tried to help where he could, but as said before, he was still inexperienced with his powers, and he didn't want to be an elephant in a china shop, so to speak, what came to Mimi's mind. Now there was, just waiting to keep Mimi safe, waiting for the drugs Damon had stuffed into Mimi to start wearing off.

Mimi would start to calm down, sleep, and feel safe. Then she'd be okay, and then you could see her mood, what she wanted to do to Damon, or if she wanted to do anything with him. What damage did that do, then? Nobody knew that. And that remained to be seen. Mimi was in close care three weeks ago until all the meds dissipated enough and Mimi got her rage out and could start dissipating the meds herself more effectively.