Capítulo 129: 9. Anyone Of Us.
Damon entered the medbay with a calm stride, the sterile air filling his nostrils. As he booted up the computer, his fingers danced across the keyboard, the soft taps echoing in the room. Carefully selecting the medications, he aimed to create a unique mixture, a test to determine what would be most effective for Mimi. He didn't want to cause her any further medical panic, so he decided to start with alternative drugs. Mimi's recovery had been a long and difficult journey, far from being okay. The mere thought of her experiencing medical panic on top of everything else was something he desperately wanted to avoid.
Mariella joined him, bringing syringes and needles, the clinking sound accompanying her movements. Damon, always strict about hygiene, donned his gloves, even when handling medication. He had shared with Mariella the time when Mimi had died and been injured, the negligence of Samuel and Bran's poor care. Damon spared her the gory details, only conveying that it had been a terrible ordeal.
With practiced ease, he worked, his expertise evident from countless prior experiences. However, due to the darkness coursing through Mimi's veins, he administered heavy doses of drugs, potentially causing her to remain heavily sedated for an extended period. Nevertheless, considering her weakened state, he believed it would be beneficial for her to take it easy.
Finally, he held eight syringes in his hands, alongside a packet of empty ones and a few pharmaceutical panic drugs, serving as his backup plan. Reluctantly, he acknowledged their effectiveness in weakening Mimi's mental strength, leaving her unable to resist. Perhaps, they might also weaken the darkness within her.
Together, they made their way to the bedroom where Mimi lay, her restless movements indicating her discomfort. Damon positioned himself beside her, noticing the cannula still attached. Carefully, he injected the first cocktail into the cannula, depressing the plunger, and observed as Mimi's movements ceased. Closing his eyes, he pressed his head against hers, focusing on ensuring that she was properly subdued.
The darkness whispered to him, tempting him to remove the barriers that Wulfe had put in place, urging him to indulge in its power. It desired to witness the malevolence of his magic, something that every wicked soul would feel in their very core. Mariella, sensing the danger, approached him, her hands intertwining with his. Using her white power, she exerted a force to push the darkness away from Damon. The darkness, almost disdainful, grew irritated by this interference, feeling harassed.
Wulfe walked up to that room, the creaking floorboards echoing beneath his steps.
He said, his voice calm and collected, "Move over. I will call you closer when I need to. I need to gain the upper hand again."
The air in the room was heavy with a mixture of anticipation and determination.
Damon and Mariella made their way to the other room, their footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. Mariella used her white power, a gentle and soothing energy, to ensure that Damon's darkness remained dormant. The room was filled with a faint scent of lavender, adding a touch of serenity to the atmosphere.
Wulfe sat next to Mimi, his eyes fixated on his unicorn. She was a magnificent creature, and in his eyes, she belonged to him just as much as he belonged to her. Their bond ran deep, deeper than anyone could comprehend. Wulfe saw it as an honor to have his heart completely taken by this small creature. He had dedicated his life to protecting her and being by her side.
Salvatore, in Wulfe's eyes, was a fool. A complete fool who had discarded the most precious thing in the universe. But Wulfe saw it as his gain, his opportunity to cherish and love the unicorn that Salvatore had carelessly cast aside. He hoped his unicorn would never have to experience the pain that Salvatore had caused, but if she did, he vowed to be there for her. Always and forever.
Wulfe focused, his mind pushing back the darkness that had once again surfaced, influenced by Salvatore's ideas. He refused to give in, determined to regain control. Slowly, he erected an additional barrier, but it was a painstaking process. Even with Salvatore's help, it would take time.
Turning to Mariella, he said, "Princess, come in. Let's see if your white power can help."
Mariella slid into Mimi's mind, and it was a completely different experience. Instead of a blank white space, she found herself in a vast cathedral. The sound of her footsteps echoed through the grand hall as she gazed up at the immense glass dome, revealing a glimpse of the blue sky and a few wispy clouds. The walls of the cathedral were adorned with pastel shades and numerous paintings, each telling a story.
Mariella approached one particular painting, taking her time to fully absorb its details. It depicted a couple lying on a sofa, with three other figures observing them. The middle figure, shrouded in black, stirred emotions within Mariella. It was familiar to her memories too, somehow unveiled by Wulfe. The painting haunted her, breaking her heart. She yearned to find a way to heal the pain it represented. The time when she came into Mimi's life, the time when Damon was no longer Mimi's.
Wulfe beckoned Mariella, his voice filled with urgency. "Come here, now. Bathe this place with your white power, if you can. The darkness is trying to spread, so damn thin. Let's see if this can drive it to be a little more coherent."
The room was charged with anticipation as Mariella prepared to channel her white power to combat the encroaching darkness.
Mariella focused intently, her eyes fixed on the swirling white power that she had summoned. With a determined effort, she let it spread through the air, and soon she could see black tendrils writhing in its wake. The sight was both fascinating and daunting, but she knew she had to push through. She directed the tendrils towards Wulfe, who in turn used his strength to push them even further. The exertion was taking its toll on Mariella, but she had plenty of white power to spare. Still, she couldn't help but feel the strain of the task at hand.
Within moments, Wulfe called for the help of others. "Number one, come here, and bring Mimosa too," he beckoned.
Damon and Mimosa joined them, their presence a welcome boost of support. Damon marveled at Mariella's power, admitting that he had encountered nothing quite like it. Wulfe reached out his hand, and Damon willingly accepted, allowing Wulfe to tap into his telepathy and mental abilities. It was an unfamiliar experience for Damon, but he remained relaxed, taking in the memories and paintings that surrounded him. Some were familiar, but many were unknown, leaving him with a sense of curiosity and intrigue. There were so many memories in Mimi's mind that he did not know, meaning he was not part of.
The darkness they were battling seemed relentless, its presence overwhelming. Mariella's tired voice guided Wulfe to the areas that had been cleansed, and he casually erected barriers to prevent any resurgence. Mimosa stood by Mariella's side, providing her with a much-needed boost. One by one, Salvatore was called upon to join the effort, but only when Wulfe was certain that he had things under control. Barrier after the barrier was constructed, confining the darkness to a smaller and smaller space. Wulfe's unwavering power, combined with Lepard's raw strength, pushed the darkness back into the tiny hole from which it had emerged.
The team took occasional breaks, during which Wulfe reinforced the shield over the hole, ensuring that the darkness remained contained. The task at hand was draining them all, and they knew they would need to rest soon. In between their efforts, they found brief moments of solace, indulging in quick moments of passion to rekindle their lust before returning to their work. Damon's mind raced, trying to devise a plan to prevent this from happening again in the future. However, Wulfe clarified that ultimate control over the darkness rested with Mimi. It would be up to her to master and tame the darkness that lived within her.
Wulfe's words reminded Damon of just how special Mimi was. He could almost see her youthful innocence, her lack of experience in dealing with the darker aspects of one's psyche. No one had ever properly taught her. Damon realized he had failed her in so many ways. He hadn't been the teacher he had intended to be. He remembered the countless times he should have taken Mimi for a walk or tried to explain things to her, but instead, he would grab his phone, call someone, and give in to his desires.
It was always him, taking shortcuts whenever he could. He understood Mimi was his opposite - she never took shortcuts. She always chose the hardest and most punishing route, and now she had no one to help her. But maybe now she did, and it struck him how important Wulfe was to Mimi. However, Jake and Rob had been even more important, yet she refused to talk about them or their deaths.
Perhaps he could help her. His pheromones could provide her with a sense of safety, but he needed to remember to be that safety and never abuse that power. If he did, it might be the last time he earned her trust. Losing her trust felt awful, knowing it was never Mimi's fault, but his or others'. He hoped for a better future, but feared repeating his mistakes and blundering through the whole thing again.
Exhaustion had become the norm for all of them. Day after day, they fought against the darkness as best they could, making minuscule progress. Mimi's mind was slowly clearing, section by section, but the darkness grew thicker, collecting near that small hole. Lepard, two and four were pushing it in, their temporary enlargement of the hole allowing them to gather more of the darkness. It was hard work for all of them.
Mariella knew that each of them, including Mimi, would need a significant recovery period. They had relied heavily on panic pharmaceuticals to combat the darkness, and Mimi would be in a pretty rough state. They had a plan to create a secure den for her and let Colin, Adam, Charles, and Samuel help her, monitoring her closely. They couldn't provide choppers yet because Mimi reacted differently to each drug, so it was up to those four to get her well. Physically, she was still almost a skeleton, and her mind would be bruised, confused, and dangerous.
Adam and Charles understood it. They had no plan of taking her close care, not until it would be safe. All it took to convince them was a few glimpses from Mimosa, so they knew that Mimosa did not lie about her visions of the future. They saw for themselves that she would not sleep, but hurt them repeatedly. It would take time for Mimi to understand even that much, that she was in pharmapanic. And until she would get a decent grip on herself, it would be safest to keep her in a padded room.
Damon knew that if he would have been in condition, he would have been able to help her with his pheromones. But not now. Now it was pretty impossible. He was feeling this in his bones, so to speak. And this was not yet over, but they had gotten over 75% of the darkness back to its hiding place. What Mimi would do after this, no one knew. She might go on missions as well.
She had broken that programming to be a flea pretty early on, not just told anyone. And Damon knew it was not actually a solution to impose his will on her and her decisions. He had come up with a better way to get her to be safe, not endanger herself. But Magnum, Murdock, Dexter, Colin, all of them were aware of what had happened and what it might do to her. Magnum was ready to help her unload her rage, deal with the whole thing, and move on. But she was stubborn, and it might take time.
Charles was planning, at some point, to take her sleeping next to him, to give her a sense of safety. He longed to hold her, but again, this was a proper test of patience for all of them. Then the last of the darkness finally was put back in hiding.
Wulfe taught Salvatores, "Don't use your will, but your power. Feel me doing this. If you use your will, there is a danger that if you ever leave her, not want her, you take your will away, meaning letting this out. So use your power."
Damon nodded. He felt what Wulfe showed him. He let his power come forth, making it seal over the hole. One by one, Salvatores came, and each of them put their powers, as well as Lepard. So the darkness was put away properly. Now they had to wait a bit until putting on another layer of power. They wandered around Mimi's mind. Mariella showed Damon that memory, how it was haunting, oppressive, almost like rotten.
Wulfe approached them, his footsteps echoing softly on the cold, stone floor. He gently reached out and caressed the painting, his fingers brushing against the textured canvas. As he closed his eyes, the room fell into a hushed silence.
"It is not rotten," Wulfe whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and empathy. "There are countless emotions trapped within these brushstrokes."
He turned his gaze towards Damon, his eyes filled with a knowing intensity.
"You, my friend, possess the power of both telepathy and empathy," Wulfe explained. "You can manipulate feelings, sending waves of fear and terror, but you also can absorb emotions like rage,"
Damon grunted in acknowledgment, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. Wulfe conjured a bench seemingly out of thin air, inviting Damon and Mariella to sit. His eyes sparkled with hidden wisdom as he revealed a secret from his past.
"Once upon a time, I was a teacher," he confessed. "Not in the conventional sense, but I taught humans to perceive the world differently."
Mariella's eyes widened with curiosity. "Really?" she exclaimed. "Teach us, then. Show us this other way of seeing."
Wulfe locked eyes with her, a sense of possession emanating from his gaze.
"My loyalty lies with my unicorn," he declared. "She belongs to me, more than she does to you, at least for now. We share a connection, a bond that you cannot comprehend. It is something you must learn to accept."
Damon nodded, understanding the depth of their connection. "I have noticed it," he admitted. "It's not physical, but emotional—a profound bond. With Mimi, I feel it on a physical level. Most of our time together has been consumed by passion, not by going to the theater or doing other activities."
Wulfe smiled knowingly, his lips curling into a mysterious grin. "There is a reason for that, but we won't delve into it just yet. Let me show you a few things about my unicorn. It will help you understand her better."
He rose from the bench and led them to a painting hanging on the wall. It depicted a scene from the kitchen, where Mimi, Adam, and Damon were cooking, their faces adorned with smiles. However, the painting appeared faded, lacking the vibrant emotions one would expect.
Silently, Mariella reached out to touch the painting, her fingertips gliding over its surface. She sensed a faintness, a lack of depth in the emotions captured within. Damon, too, placed his hand on the painting, perplexed by its plainness.
"These were our good times," Damon murmured. "We were experimenting in the test kitchen, just the three of us. Mimi was mischievous, seducing us and distracting us while she worked her magic. But why does this painting feel so dull? Was it not a good time for her?"
Wulfe moved to another painting, framed in black. In this one, Mimi lay in Damon's lap, but something was amiss. The scene appeared hazy, as if the painting itself was trying to disappear.
Wulfe spoke softly, his voice filled with sorrow. "Here lies a rotten memory, a dark and twisted one. It is Damien, inhabiting your body, conditioning Mimi to obey in order to avoid pain. The reason her wonderful memories seem faint is that she channels all that love, all those cherished moments, to combat this darkness. This is just one memory among many, and as brilliant as she is, Mimi has her limits. It's a whole other battle for her."
Damon reached out and gently brushed his fingers against the painting. It felt smooth under his touch. He then put the tag on it. It would have to be dealt with at some point, but his tag would ensure he would find it. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him as he attempted to extract something from the painting. His tiredness was overwhelming. The memory that greeted him was beyond belief, rotten and decayed. He just could suck nothing out of it.
Wulfe spoke. "You see, each painting has a different colored frame, indicating the intensity of the memory it holds. The unicorn is the creature of love. She thrives on it and uses it. However, Damon, what you take out can be put back in. Your pure love can infuse these memories, but it must be pure for Mimi. Otherwise, it could corrupt the memory."
Wulfe paused briefly before continuing, "You won't be able to perceive her mind like this until you learn more. However, I can grant you access from time to time. Come here, see this memory."
Damon found himself standing in a vast expanse of white space, facing a tree trunk. The leaves were absent, leaving only the rough, brown bark.
Wulfe instructed, "Have you ever seen this tree before? Touch it."
Damon placed his hand on the trunk, feeling its hardness and rugged texture. He could sense the ridges of the bark and the distinct smell of the tree. However, he couldn't recall if he had encountered this particular tree before.
He confessed, "I have no idea. I've seen countless trees in my life."
Wulfe smiled and beckoned, "Come here and see."
Damon circled around the trunk and discovered a carved golden heart with his and Mimi's initials. It suddenly dawned on him that this tree was from Chicago.
Wulfe explained, "You see, to truly remember, you need more than just one tree trunk, the feel of it. You need to have more of the memory. But the unicorn, she doesn't. She knows, just by touching. Every single detail in her memory counts."
Wulfe turned to Mariella and asked, "Tell me, how does it feel to hold a cup of coffee in your hands? Describe the sensations in your fingers,"
Mariella replied a hint of uncertainty in her voice, "Well, it has its own weight. I can smell the delightful aroma of the coffee. The handle is hard and cool, fitting perfectly in my fingers. As I bring it to my lips, I can sense its warmth."
Wulfe smiled knowingly and said, "For the unicorn, if you were to ask that question, she would respond, 'What day? What cup?'"
Mariella furrowed her brow, while Damon remained perplexed.
Wulfe continued to explain, "For you, the concept of a coffee cup and drinking coffee is in your mind. You don't delve into a specific memory to describe it. You have a general understanding of a coffee cup. But for Mimi, her memory doesn't allow that. Every cup of coffee she has ever had, every aroma, every memory, it all weighs her down. It strains her mind."
Mariella pondered for a moment, and Damon, ever practical, asked, "What can we do about it?"
Wulfe nodded and said, "Come here, put your hand here and feel. Close your eyes, feel it, don't delve into memory, but try to extract the feelings from it."
Damon focused, and a wave of irritation, urgency, and worry washed over him. He opened his eyes.
Wulfe said, "Good, you can extract all these emotions from them, not just the negatives, but make them fade away. Let me show you how to deal with the clutter in her mind. It's one thing that drives her..."
Mariella interrupted, "Neurotic chaos?"
Wulfe chuckled, leading them to another memory. It appeared to be something ordinary, Mimi cooking in the kitchen.
Wulfe instructed Damon, "Now, gently brush your mind against that memory."
Damon attempted it several times, with Wulfe showing how faintly it should be done.
Wulfe then said, "Now, as you brush against it, make it fade away gently. Start with one detail at a time. Try to disconnect any emotional attachment from that ladle. Remember, you need to combine feeling those emotions with a gentle brushing with your mind. It's not easy."
Damon focused, finally sensing the emotions tied to that ladle, stemming from another aspect in Mimi's mind, there came whole another memory. She had felt lonely and missed him, as he had cruelly shared his encounters with others. He had again called, made her hear how he fucked others while she was free, at home, alone. Damon absorbed that feeling, and though it was difficult, he managed to do it. It was strange to absorb that loneliness, feeling not to be enough.
Wulfe explained, "This is what you need to do, disconnect the emotional connections from her memories. It prevents those memories from lingering in her mind. But you need to extract enough. It will be a slow and challenging process. You can also teach others to do this, so they can assist as well."
Damon nodded gratefully, appreciating Wulfe's guidance. This would immensely help his beloved Mimi. It would be difficult for him not to blame himself or succumb to self-hatred.
Mariella asked, "Earlier, you mentioned something about Damon's empath abilities. What is it?"
Wulfe sat down and replied, "First, why do you think, Damon, that you loved your girlfriends? You went to the theater with them, and had dates, but with Mimi, you engaged in wild passion. You mostly made love to those girls."
Damon shook his head, and Wulfe posed another question. "Why did you stop being with them when Mariella entered the picture? Why did you stop loving them?"
Damon confessed, "I love Mariella more. I was a terrible person to Mimi for decades. It's a miracle she's still with me."
Wulfe leaned back in his chair, his voice filled with a mix of wisdom and amusement. "You can suck feelings," he said, his tone laced with intrigue, "but you project them around you. You loved Mimi, but as you have no control over your projection, you projected your love for those girls, made them love you, so you can feel that love. But you bathed Mimi with your lust, yes, you did. Hence, your monthly marathons."
Mariella burst into laughter, her giggle echoing through the room.
"It's somehow proper that you bathed Mimi with your lust and loved humans," she managed to say between fits of laughter.
Damon looked at her sheepishly, his eyes filled with curiosity.
"Why did I stop when Mariella came?" he asked.
Wulfe's voice grew softer as he explained, "She loved you, Damon. You projected her with your love, bathed her with your love, not lust, but pure love. Lust is merely a byproduct of it."
Mariella's laughter intensified, her voice finally finding its way through. "But I... I was supposed to be the lust queen, and I am the love queen," she exclaimed.
A smile curled on Wulfe's lips as he responded, "Damon gave you both what you needed. You, being a creature of lust, needed love. And Mimi, being a creature of love, got a bath of lust."
Damon fell silent, his mind consumed with thoughts. Was there anything real between him and Mimi? Or was it all just lust? Did he truly love her?
Wulfe's voice cut through the silence, "Only you, my boy, know the answer. But remember, love is a two-way street. It is not just about you. You will love the one who loves you. It is the order of the universe."
Damon continued to ponder, lost in his thoughts. Soon, Wulfe announced that it was time to wrap things up, to put up the last barriers, and then they could finally get some much-needed rest.
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