Bab 543: 22. Memories.
I woke up feeling cold. I fumbled for blankets and found annoying tubes sticking out of myself. I was not compatible with cannulation right at that moment. I tore them all off and carefully knotted those tubes so they would need to be changed. Then I decided to go to the bathroom. I needed to pee. Or do something in there.
I managed to sit up and prepare to push myself to stand. My head was spinning quite a bit. I felt pretty drugged and not fine. I was cold, and the light was yellowish, feverish. I noticed I had quite a bit of a fever. It was good, as I was no longer septic and I had a fever that was a sign of getting better, so this infection was going away. Soon I hoped.
I got up to stand; I tried to walk, and for some reason, I found myself on the floor. I stared at the floor quite closely. I realized that I had fallen over. I was no longer standing. What had I been doing? Oh yes, I was going to the toilet; I got myself on all fours and started to crawl into the bathroom. It was a long journey, and I didn't seem to have any time to get there.
Finally, I reached my destination. It felt like I had been through Mount Everest as I managed to pull myself onto the toilet, still with the hem of my robe up. Then I checked. I wasn't wearing any underwear; I wasn't. So I let the piss flow. I was shaking from the cold, from the exhaustion, but I was here, doing my stuff. My body needed to be challenged, and I was challenging it all right.
The feeling of pressure on my asshole woke me up from my reverie. "Oh, shit, it is coming too. " I made the observation and produced the stuff. I had the strength to do that. It was quite soft, and antibiotics were working.
"Next, I need to clean my ass." My feverish mind understood that much, so I took some paper and wiped what I could because it was a pain in the ass. I was feeling rather damn dizzy and my hands were feeling so cold that they seemed almost numb and shaking too. I got off the toilet and held onto the sink with both hands.
Dizziness and the feeling of so overwhelming exhaustion were threatening to make me faint, but I persevered. Not going down just yet. After a few good deep breaths and, a little more of my rage out, I got some boost in myself. Eventually, I quickly got one hand untied so that the toilet flushed. However, my legs bent under me like a house of cards, and I slumped gracefully to the ground. And now it is time to crawl back.
Damon sighed. He'd been out to eat. He'd been out of the medbay for 20 minutes, and when he came back, Mimi was gone from her bed. He had managed to turn this infection out of sepsis, but she was not in clear waters just yet. He looked at the scene before him. All the tubes had been tightly knotted to ensure that they needed to be changed, and the cannulas ripped out with little spurts of blood.
Damon patiently cleaned the bed, fetched new tubes and cannulas from the cupboard, prepared them, and took a good dose of strong anesthetic into the syringe already ready. He was sitting in a chair when the bathroom door opened, and Mimi hauled herself out. She was pale, shaking from exhaustion, and crawling onto her fours out of the bathroom.
"Where are you going, Baby?" he asked patiently.
I answered as normally as I could, "To bed. I just went to the bathroom, and thanks for asking, I did both."
I continued to crawl, although I wanted to take a break, so I didn't want to show anyone how weak I was, as if it wasn't obvious if I couldn't move otherwise than by crawling. But it's so ingrained in me that no weakness can or should be shown because there's always someone who will pick up on it and exploit it.
Damon got up from his chair. He went to her and picked his wife up off the floor in his arms and carried her back to bed. He'd seen how Mimi's arms were shaking with exertion and, from the look on Mimi's face, you could tell that full exhaustion was not far off.
She felt very hot in his arms and he knew that her fever had spiked and it hovered quite damn high so that would first thing to deal with. Fever was the one thing that made her very restless, and once he would get that down, she would be very limp and not going anywhere. Then it would be a good time for her to rest.
First, he put in a new central venous catheter. She was shaking like a leaf in the grips of her fever. Then, he took a good dose of fever medicine and put it directly into the central line. The drug would take effect in just 10 minutes.
Damon lifted up the side of Mimi's bed and said. "That was a fever medicine and a strong one. You know what that does. It will ease up soon. "
Yes, I did. I'd been in this same state so many times in my life, I knew it outright. When my fever started to go down, I got hot, and sweat started to flow, and as the sweat flowed, what little strength I had had disappeared. Within ten minutes, I would be wet and completely powerless. Usually, I couldn't even lift my arm, and I knew that my fever was hovering at lord knows where, so bringing it down would be hard. And it was.
I felt like even blinking my eyes was an effort. Damon, meanwhile, had put big white towels on the bed next to me and had stocked up on warm water for the sink and a washcloth. He had put clean bed linen on the chair next to my bed and had reserved a new robe for me.
I was done. Sweat was pouring off me, and I couldn't even speak. I just felt stinky and dirty, my hair felt greasy, and my scalp was all wet. I was so damn exhausted and I could smell my own stink, but I was fully powerless to do anything about this.
Damon informed Adam and Charles what the young lady had done. Charles laughed. They wouldn't get to nurse Mimi because two days after Damon had put Mimi to sleep, Mimosa had gotten in heat, and it took Samuel, Bran, and both Adam and Charles. They had no idea that it had been Bran's doings all along to keep Mimosa heat almost all the time, keeping Adam and Charles busy.
Mimosa was very hormonal, volatile, and demanding when in heat. This time Mimosa demanded that Mirella be fucked all the time, as she was. For some reason, Mirella was not happy about this, but when Mimosa's lust threatened to knot, the men more or less raped Mirella, too. Mimosa demanded that Mirella had to be taken roughly and by several men, keeping her as their little cumdump, something that Mirella hated. But it was a must because Mimosa's heat required it.
Ten minutes later, Damon took Mimi's heat to 40.2, normal. Excellent, the fever medicine had worked once again. The infection had thankfully turned from sepsis, and Mimi's own body was trying to help, but for some reason, Mimi always got a wicked fever. This time, the high had been 49.8. Such a reading messed up Mimi's metabolism. Enzymes, nutrient absorption, everything, and it was consuming calories at a furious rate. Damon knew it was not out of the woods yet and sepsis could return, but he just needed to be on point with this one.
Mimi now weighed an estimated 36 kilos. Alarmingly low, and if the fever lasted for several more days, the weight would easily drop to under 30 kilos. Damon would try to push Mimi's nutrition, no matter how much. Fortunately, the antibiotic had worked, and the bacteria count was down to 10% of what it had been. Even that number caused a pretty nasty infection and fever, and Damon did everything he could to stop the disease. He needed to be vigilant all the time, taking tests, keeping an eye on her, and trying to keep her resting as much as possible.
He went over to Mimi's bed and lifted his sweaty and limp wife onto the towels on the other bed. He murmured to her calming words, reassuring her that she would be fine and he would care for her. He took all the wet bed sheets off the bed and took them to the laundry hamper. Then he wiped the bed mattress with a disinfectant that would freshen it up. He left the bed to dry for a while. He moved to the other bed.
Efficiently, but gently, he removed the robe from Mimi, took a washcloth, and began to wash his wife. He did not count that time when he had given her dental care on the island. It wasn't such a miraculous rescue, but now he felt he was doing something he should be doing. Caring for her, washing her, and making sure that she would be fine.
In fact, it was almost a year ago. Mimi had been on the island for another three months and here in the house for at least six months. Nine months, at least. It was literally almost another year since he had last been this close to Mimi. He talked to her soothingly all the time, in a low, loving voice, knowing his wife that she hated to be this weak and sick. He turned Mimi and wiped everywhere and also took care of the holes. Then he got a hair wash dish, put it under Mimi's head, and carefully washed her hair and scalp. She had been all sweaty, but now she was quite clean and feeling much fresher.
Damon wrapped Mimi's hair in a super absorbent towel as he took the washing utensils away. He then laid out on the bed with clean sheets and pillows. Finally, he helped Mimi into her now nightgown and then lifted his still limp wife back to her bed. It would be quite a long time before she would get any strength and she would soon be asleep. That was something she needed.
The washing was wonderful. I don't know what it is about it, but somehow, when the sweat from a fever, at least for me, is such that it makes me feel super dirty, a bed bath like this feels like heaven, and a hair wash was ultimate enjoyment in this state if I can have any enjoyment in this weak, sick state. He talked to me all the time. His hands were gentle but efficient and he cleaned me everywhere, very carefully and throughout.
I looked at Damon as he lifted me back into bed and said, " Thank you, thank you for being there. I am a burden to you. That's wonderful of you to bother to wash me. I know I'm the most difficult patient in the universe."
Damon looked at me momentarily and said, his voice was soft and gentle, "You're welcome. Remember Baby, in sickness and health. You are no burden to me, or if you insist that you are, then I would say that you are a burden to bear that I am glad to have."
I was surprised. Damon very rarely quotes the wedding vows, and in fact, he has at every wedding claimed this particular vow. He covered me up and grabbed a syringe from the table after he had another thousand bags attached to my IV and he had calculated the speed of the drip. I said, "No, not that, no, no."
Damon looked me straight in the eye and smirked as he shoved the syringe into my drip tube and pressed the plunger.
"Sleepy time, baby, sleep well." He whispered into my ear.
As Mimi's eyes closed, however, Damon emptied the syringe all the way. This dose should keep Mimi down for at least 24 hours, and the sedative drip would maintain the level. Likewise, the fever medicine would hopefully keep the fever down.
Damon watched his sleeping wife for a while. If only he could tell Mimi sometimes that he has blackouts, and the last one was just five years ago when he supposedly killed Mimi. Sometimes he did not want to admit those blackouts to her. Mainly because she would insist that his evil part was separate from him and she was quite persistent about that too.
He had wondered that over the years himself, too. Doubting himself, sometimes feeling that evilness being a fully separate creature. He had then used his powers to keep him separate, but then again, he might have been woken up, seeing Mimi all tortured when he had thought that he had gotten that part under control. Like this horrible thing over five years ago. He still felt nauseous when he remembered those flashes and that ending.
He had kidnapped Mimi at the hospital opening, threatened her, and taken her to a French chateau where he had tried to get her pregnant, held her captive for six months, and she had finally died in his arms. When he had taken her in his lap, wrapping her all up, letting her smell his passionfruit. He remembered how that dagger felt in his grip; he had plunged it into her, many times, and how she had convulsed that one last time before dying and then that enjoyment.
He had not been able to stop himself. He had known what he was doing, and he had done it. There had been no kind of need to treat or help her but kill her. He had not remembered about the whole six months at first; he had just sat holding her corpse, and later on, he had realized that he was in Europe, and into his head had then returned memories or flashes of that time. His twisted emotions that made his self-loathing rise like a tidal wave had come into his mind, making him keep his distance from her.
The memories that had surfaced were enough for him to run away somewhere when Mimi had a European adventure. He had watched her for a while, and then he went to South America, and when he heard that she was back, he went wandering around Asia to find something.
His mind was blown when he had gone to Dresden and demanded it. But it didn't help. He had found a monastery in Bhutan with vampire monks. There, he had become acquainted with their sacred texts on Mimi. It was hard to believe that he was the monks' glorified protector of Mimi. There had been a language barrier between them, and the monks had shown all sorts of pictures of two becoming one and then one leaving the other.
Damon had interpreted the pictures to mean that he would probably have a baby with Mimi one day. He tried not to overthink it and knew that there always have been and always will be prophecies, and they are complicated to interpret and can be misinterpreted in so many ways.
But then again, could it be that the evil could be taken away from him? Transfer it to someone else, but then again, maybe it was his burden to bear and he could not unleash this kind of torment on someone else. All he wanted was to have their love back, and he knew that it had taken big blows, and he was not sure he could be with Mimi ever again like they used to be.
Damon went outside to sit and talk to himself. He didn't think anyone would hear. "My mind is blown, and it doesn't help. I'm trying to control myself, and the next thing I know, Mimi's in the medbay at almost death's door, and I'm to blame, and I refuse even immediately to remember what I've done to her. Why do I always do this? Right now, I just want to wrap myself around Mimi and keep her safe from everything. Why do I do shed sessions? Why do I feel like I'm made of more than one piece, and everyone is arguing? I know a part of me gets pleasure from a shed session, but I don't. I know I can do a session for Mimi, but it has a purpose, a lesson. This volcano, whatever it is, just wants to destroy torture. Why? Is he separate from me? Can it be taken away and then what, do I unleash something very wicked into the world? Is this meant to be my burden to bear? I need to feel love. I need to have someone to talk to. To be with me. My soul is aching for its mate."
God was eating shrimp when he heard the genuine pain in Damon's voice. The big white cat god looked closer and listened. He wanted to understand, too. Damon had no one to talk to. The part that had been created within him, woke properly up, feeling his need and wanting to help him. To be there for him.
Cat God felt this too and sighed, as he knew that it was not yet time for this to happen. Damon needed someone, and in time, it would come out. He had no one at that moment. Not really, not Mimi. Well, Mimi was Damon's victim, and Mimi might judge and try to understand or accept, but it wouldn't help Damon. Damon did not open up to Mimi because he did not want to burden her anymore.
God was thinking about it when the Chaoskitty came alongside him. She said in a dismissive voice, scoffing at Damon, "Oh, that, pyh. That was supposed to be something. You know, I had high expectations, but look at it now. It is nothing, I say. That was supposed to be a protector of Mimi, not a destroyer."
The chaos cat got up and went off to play chess again. God sighed and whispered. "No, that's not it. He is her protector, that much I know too. He is something great, but there's something that still needs to happen. I just know that more needs to happen before the balance will be in enough on our side for me to be able to help him properly."
When I finally woke up, I was actually in bed. I was still a little tired, but not as endlessly lethargic as I had been during my illness. I had no idea how many times I had gotten out of bed and he had washed me. I got up and went in search of something to eat. There was no one in the kitchen.
There was a note on the table that said, "There's food in the fridge, baby. You heat it and eat it. I have to go to a gig. I'll see you later. Damon ."
I did as I was told and heated a meal for myself. I was amazed at how fit I was, and when I looked at my phone, I realized I had been sick for six weeks. I had been asleep for two weeks. And my stomach had been stretched. I had been intensive feeding. So I was 46 kilos. No wonder. Mimosa would still be in heat for weeks.
I had no idea where that infection had gotten to me and I just hoped that my heat would not so be painful. There were no cramps even though I felt a little more active in pussy, meaning, I got to have some fun in the girl's pleasure room. I then started to do everything in the wing: cooking, knitting, and watching programs, and exactly two weeks later, I knew that I was really getting in heat. So this time I was actually waiting for my heat to start and see what kind of heat this would end up being. Time would tell me that.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone