Kapitel 65: 25. With or Without You.
I woke up in the dimly lit medbay, the faint scent of antiseptic filling the air. I noticed the bags still sitting by my bedside, untouched. As I examined them closer, I realized they were filled with nutrient fluids, their tubes carefully knotted by my own hands in frustration. Anger surged through me, my frustration directed at the entire universe, but I knew I had a duty to fulfill. Without a doubt, I would always do what was expected of me.
After a while in the medbay, I made my way to the lone bedroom I had discovered. I took a refreshing shower and dressed in my work clothes, slipping into blue tight jeans, a black leather jacket, and sturdy boots. Teleporting to my Monaco house, I gathered the necessary supplies for my mission before returning to the castle.
Though I longed to see my babies, I prioritized writing a letter to Damon. In the nursery, I left my bags in the doorway, already dressed for work. I entered quietly, my footsteps barely audible, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of 21 perfect little creatures. It was always an awe-inspiring moment. Moving from one bed to another, I searched for Damon's bundle, always finding them, but noticing less of my own features. I wondered about the genetic makeup of these children, unsure of what my DNA had given to them.
Just as I was lost in the presence of our children, Damon's voice broke the silence from the doorway. His tone was quiet, tinged with questioning disappointment. Surprised, I turned to look at him, sensing his disappointment in me. Our bond had grown stronger, making us more of a couple than ever before, and now he was let down. Frowning, his brows creased, and his lips formed a tight line.
Exhaling a sigh, I asked, "What are you doing here?"
It would have been easier if he hadn't noticed my intentions.
Damon met my gaze and inquired, "Yeah, where? Why are you abandoning me and our children?"
Taking a deep breath, I approached him. This would have been simpler if he wasn't present, but I needed to face him.
I wrapped my arms around Damon, conveying the transformation I had undergone.
Meeting his eyes, I uttered, "Baby, I never have a choice. You are the most remarkable thing in my life. We are the best. Believe me, if I had a choice, I would always choose you and our love. I want nothing more than to raise these bundles together and rebuild our family."
Damon's intense gaze locked onto me, his piercing icy blue eyes seemingly peering into the depths of my soul. The faint scent of his cologne filled the air, mingling with the anticipation that crackled between us. He tightened his grip around me, his hands wrapped protectively around my body.
"You are the baby, not me," he murmured, his voice filled with concern. "But come on, what's the name of this job? Where are you going? Are you going on a mission or something?"
I took a moment to gather my thoughts, realizing that I could not ignore his questions. But I could tell him. He had asked.
With a determined smile, I replied, "Europe gig, darling. I have to go and save the world. It's going to take over a year, maybe even a year and a half. But you and the pack have to look after the children. The others will do their part in a week, and I know everyone wants to take care of them. Enjoy these little ones while I can't be here with you. I'll be fine."
Damon's grip on me tightened, his touch providing both comfort and reluctance. He said," I am going with you. I choose you."
The weight of his decision was palpable, and I knew I had to stay strong. This wasn't just a romance novel where I could simply say yes and ride off into the sunset. Our pack's life was at stake, and their well-being mattered more than my desires.
I replied, "Pack needs you. Those babies and three other women need you. You have babies first time in a long time so enjoy. The pack comes first and you are the leader of our pack."
"But baby, you're part of the pack too," Damon protested, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and determination. "I don't want to be away from you for a year and a half. No, I'm going with you. Number Two can be the pack leader. You need backup, not doing this alone."
My heart ached at his words, knowing that his love for me was genuine. Yet, I couldn't let my personal desires cloud my judgment. Taking a deep breath, I mustered the strength to speak my truth.
I have reserved a ring for you, Damon; I confessed in my mind softly, regret and longing lacing my mind. It contains a potent anesthetic.
I spoke to him, preparing my ring without him noticing it, "You are the pack leader, and the pack needs you. I have released the pheromone that allows you to reproduce, but now it needs a pheromone from you. This is my duty, Damon. Our pack comes first."
Damon sighed, his expression a mix of disbelief and acceptance. "Baby, this is my choice. I choose you. I simply can't bear the thought of being away from you for so long."
A bittersweet smile graced my lips as I leaned in and kissed him tenderly. With a gentle touch, I placed the ring on his neck vein, administering the medicine directly. There was no other choice, no other way to ensure the safety of our pack.
Damon's body slumped in my arms, succumbing to the effects of the drug. His expression was amazed as his eyes rolled back into his head. Carefully, I transported him to a nearby room, where he would sleep peacefully for the next twelve to fourteen hours. Leaving a letter on the table next to him, I prepared myself for the laborious task ahead.
Grabbing my bag, I made my way to the portal room. The weight of leaving weighed heavily on my heart, as the scent of anticipation lingered in the air. The portal shimmered before me, a gateway to a world of uncertainty. Never before had saying goodbye felt so agonizing.
My duty called, pulling me away from the family I longed to care for. As I stepped through the portal, I couldn't help but understand Damon's need to put me to sleep during his departures. Goodbyes were never easy for either of us.
This was a different European gig, and I didn't start in Portugal. It was bloody confusing, and I could be jumping around the globe almost weekly. At least I would always be in one country for a week, and I had bodyguards with me. As for my five, they were my backup too, and each of them had their own duties during this gig.
Sam and Dean Winchester had the same spell as Magnum, so they didn't age. They worked with Alaric and appointed themselves my bodyguards whenever I allowed it. They had been Magnum's students and as well as gotten approval from Murdock for being my backup. Now, they would go from fight club to fight club, destroying every fear demon they could find. They were very good at that.
I'd already gotten Alaric to know about sabotage and whatnot. He'd tell me where he couldn't get people, but he had quite a few people at his disposal. wulfe had his own thing to do too so he could not be with me. Magnum and Murdock had a lot of stuff to be done and the same went for Dexter.
Colin had gotten himself a new job. He had been there when the last of the elves' kings had died and because the elves had been desperate; the leprechaun was related to elves. He had promised to temporary king for them, always three months living in elf world. So, as said, we were busy.
This was going to be one hell of a tight year and a half, and I put myself firmly into fight mode, work mode. Now was not the time for regrets or longing, to think about what everyone was doing. I had my responsibility and my burden to carry again. It was time to save the world and everyone in it, including my pack. Maybe after this one, I could have time to pack life.
The first country was Bosnia. Every night for a week, there was a fight club. It would start at six in the evening and end at eight in the morning. It was not demanding at all. And this was said with sarcasm. There would be plenty of opponents. My reputation was still intact, and I had more enemies than I cared to count. Everyone wanted to fight The Flea and prove themselves, but they would be dead, so they were kind of suicidal or just plain stupid.
The boys had already cleared out the club before I even got there. Then Magnum would be after Sarks, in case any of them wandered in. I was in kill mode; I would not fight now; I was going to destroy shreds, kill, slaughter, and as fast as I could.
It was the most effective way to make my opponents hesitate even a little once they saw what I was doing. I was on a roll, and every morning, I was peppered with various splashes. I'm not saying I didn't get hit myself. Not all opponents are anywhere near easy to kill, but hey, I was fired up by the combined force of my rage and will, so nothing felt off. I was a fearless, totally focused killing machine, and I didn't hesitate for a second as I destroyed opponent after opponent.
Now, I wasn't even playing with my prey; I was trying to get them dead as fast as I could. That was difficult, or not simple, not even near, and one had to be so damn sly and sharp with these. Opponents were tough, as though as my reputation let assume. whoever faced me was no spring chicken.
There were elementals, and each of them had a weakness, but then, with the hybrid club, there were hybrids here. The weaknesses of the elementals were not so clear anymore, of course, depending on what they were combined with.
But for example, the combination of the black wizard and fire elemental was pretty fucking nasty. You had to work hard to destroy it. When the fire elemental couldn't stand the ground, the dirt, not really at all, this combination could stand it with ease and it could also be made of damn nasty spells.
I tried to suck the magic out as fast as I could, even though it is not so good now to draw black magic into itself. But I was the most powerful siphon of what there was in the world, an involuntary one, but I had learned to use it to my advantage too.
Maybe after this gig, Mariella might take that black magic and cleanse it, or something. I could use it as the power source for myself too as I was not magical, so to me, it was solely energy, something I could mix my rage with.
My mission was on and this would take a lot out of me and I was not sure what the outcome would be, even as their weapons were quite pretty damn nasty. It is good to have super-fast healing and rage, so nothing feels, but there are limits, within me too and sometimes it is good to remember those said limits.
Damon woke up. His mind felt pretty damn sluggish, and his muscles did not respond so well at first. He finally got himself awake enough, rewound what had happened, and cursed. He sat up. He was still dizzy and his mouth felt dry, but he could taste Mimi's strawberry on his lips. Remembering that last kiss. It was pretty damn bittersweet, and he savored the taste, knowing that it might be a long time until he taste it again.
The other women were on bed rest because they would soon have surgery, too, and Mimi and his children were pretty damn demanding. Damon sighed, thought for a moment, and then saw the letter on the table. The feeling of being left behind, being left behind, was hard for him to accept. He wondered had Mimi had always been like this when he'd velveted her up and left.
He thought for a moment and remembered how he'd been about to snap Mimi's neck, call Alaric, and tell the others to handle the European job, but then Mimi had beaten him to it, and this drug was weird. He stood up and went to the window, looking out at the landscape. Dizziness almost knocked him from his feet but he mustered on, trying to dismantle this drug into his veins.
The drug still seemed to work all over his body, and as he took his time tasting his blood, he realized it was based on Mimi's DNA, and it was all over him now. So she had given her DNA in quite a pure form in his veins. Maybe this would put him closer to Mimi's DNA. He thought for a moment and did one dental substance to help him with that. Damon chuckled to himself and thought Mimi's expression would probably be good if that happened.
Damon gazed out the window, captivated by the vibrant colors of the emerging day. The sun's warm rays painted the world in a picturesque glow. Returning to the night table, he reached for the letter and settled on the edge of the bed, unfolding it with anticipation.
As he read, a faint scent of strawberries infused with passionfruit wafted from the paper, bringing a sense of comfort. Mimi's endearing, slightly messy handwriting added a touch of cuteness to the words.
"Damon, baby. I still can't believe I called you that. But I have to do this. You know me well, maybe even better than Charles in parts, because he refuses to see my flaws. You've always been honest, really honest, and you know what I stand for, what I'm like, and I put always all the others before me. This gig is going to be fucking demanding, and I wish when I get through this hell one day, you'd be there to pick me up."
The weight of her plea tugged at Damon's heart, causing a dull ache to spread. He continued reading, absorbing her words.
"I wish, but I have no right to demand. Because you and the pack may move on to live your lives other than what I demand, you must not always live your life with my needs first. You are the leader of the pack, and you think of the pack first. You're a damn good pack leader, I see that. Never think otherwise."
Her words, even in just a few lines, conveyed a level of praise she had never vocalized before. Yet, despite this, Damon couldn't shake the feeling that he had let her down.
"As I said, I've given the pheromone to the air. You can make kittens without me. All you need is your permission. You wouldn't have been happy with me on this gig. You know it, and I know it. And it would have been so wrong of the pack to rob you away from them just because I need you."
Damon read these lines repeatedly, trying to grasp the full weight of her confession.
"Yes, Damon, in this time, this wonderful time I've had back, I've learned that I need you badly, so badly that I'm scared myself, because I, the flea, the invincible lone wolf, shouldn't need anyone this badly."
Damon could almost hear the vulnerable tremor in her voice. It was a monumental admission for her. He felt a shift deep within him.
"Charles and Adam are also my security, very important and wonderful, but you, my first love, my heartbreaker, so many times, I sometimes need you more than oxygen, or at least it feels like it. When I can't show it, I don't dare, but I wrote it and confess it. Let's see where this thing is going to go now, and I have nothing against you if your life goes on. Mimi, baby."
Damon's trembling hands released the letter, its weight folding against his fingertips before he carefully tucked it into the warmth of his pocket. As he took a deep breath, the room seemed to hold its breath with him, the air heavy with anticipation. He closed his eyes, attempting to grasp the whirlwind of emotions that Mimi's heartfelt confession had unleashed.
The overwhelming intensity of Mimi's love, so achingly evident in her words, sent a shiver down Damon's spine. Uncertainty gnawed at him, urging caution before revealing this vulnerable side of Mimi to Mariella. He refused to abandon Mimi, no matter the circumstances, but he had always believed his own feelings for her surpassed hers for him. After all, she had four devoted husbands, Adam, Charles, and their boys. Yet, this revelation shook him to his core.
Standing upright, Damon made his way into the nursery, the soft patter of his footsteps echoing in the hushed room. His gaze fell upon his children, and in each of their innocent faces, he saw glimpses of Mimi. A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he pondered how she had seen him reflected in each of them, while he struggled to find his own features within them. All he could see in those precious babies were Mimi's features. The ache in his chest intensified, longing for Mimi's presence beside him, to admire their children together and search for shared traits.
The mere thought of Mimi navigating fight club after fight club without genuine support weighed heavily on Damon's heart. He knew he had to confide in the pack, to seek their understanding and guidance. How they would react, how they would act, remained uncertain. The letter, a sacred space of vulnerability, would remain his secret for now. After all, Mimi would have to be alone in Europe for a year and a half, and the depth of her emotions demanded protection.
He went to the medbay. The women were under anesthesia; they were about to go into surgery, and Damon went to number two, who said, "Mimi's gone?"
Number one nodded. And said, "European job, when I understood asking where she was going, a year and a half and bad. Upstairs has something to do with it."
Two grunted and went off to fix up the operating theatre.
They operated on all the women. There were a hell of a lot of children now. Mariella had done 15, Mimosa 12, and Shadow 16, and on top of that, Mimi was 21, and they would be busy. But Damon was determined to let most of them look after their babies for as long as they wanted, and he wouldn't say anything about Mimi just yet.
Mimi's nursery was on a different floor from everyone else, the same as the wolves. They were always close together, but Mariella had her own. He had told the other men, and they all knew they wouldn't tell the women yet. Now, the focus was on the babies and enjoying them for the first time in a long time.
Damon himself often went to look after Mimi's babies because they were always awake at different times. He didn't tell anyone about the letter and was examining his feelings pretty damn carefully, thinking and wondering what to do next. He knew that if he wanted to, he and Mimi had genuine hope, but did he dare? Has he changed so much that he dares to hope, to trust and be with Mimi?
Ever since Mariella woke up, there was something wrong with Damon. Well, that is not wrong per se, but something was clearly eating away at that man. Mariella was enjoying her babies and nursing them with Damon and others.
Even Charles was there to help. The week passed quickly, and Damon's problem seemed to go away. Well, if it was anything, Mariella wondered. But there were so many babies, and they were so demanding. Mariella felt like she was always changing someone's diaper, feeding, or dressing, and she was only getting quick ones.
Well, the truth is that having children takes its toll on your sex life, and badly it seems. Mariela went to wrap herself up in a Damon.
"Honey, we've been nursing these for over a month now, sure they're lovely and all, but when I want a good fucking can you get our alpha woman to come to her senses so these kids can leave and go to the magic house?"
Damon was silent for a moment and said, " Fine, I'll arrange for the kids to go to the magic house if you like." his voice was quiet, tense almost.
Mariella frowned and said, " What's the matter with you and Mimi? Have you had another argument that the lady is angry?"
Damon sighed and said, " We haven't had a row. Mimi left for the European gig a little over a month ago. Orders from upstairs."
Mariella was silent. She had been berating Mimi in her mind for almost a month, blaming her, and Mimi hadn't defended herself at all. She used quite a colorful language. Mariella thought that at least Mimi knew what she was thinking when she was a nutter. Poor Mimi. To now have to go to European gigs, fight clubs, and listen for a month to a member of the pack fucking you over expertly.
Mariella said, "I've been fucking Mimi all along when she took you all the time and really viciously. I don't understand what a fucking witchy-ass witch I've become towards Mimi. The poor girl has been alone, and well, I certainly haven't made things better."
Damon was quiet, too quiet, and then hissed. "Well, maybe I should have told you where we stand then."
His expression was almost pure rage now.
Damon walked away, and Mariella slumped down in a chair. She knew she had to apologize to Mimi and apologize properly. Begging apologized, then she had a long and devotional conversation with the upstairs one, said quite a few effective sentences in that direction, and the damn chaos cat just laughed.
Mariella was pissed off at that cat and then went to find Damon, who was in the kitchen making dinner.
She wrapped herself around him, and spoke in his ear, trying to be honest, "Honey, I know I haven't helped matters any, but would it help if I apologized to Mimi? Should we help her somewhere in between?"
Damon turned around, turned off the stove, looked at his wife searchingly, and said, " So, should we? What do you think? It's been a little over a month now, it's a fucking demanding year and a half, and then there's no sex party. But I don't decide, I'll let the pack decide. First things first. Let's unpack a bit in bed and see what we do then."
Damon took Mariella to bed, and they started having a pretty damn intense time.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein