บท 116: 36. Everything Burns.
As they walked into the portal room and prepared to move into that mansion, damon could not help than let memories, painfully clear and hauntingly beautiful to unfold in his mind. Damon knew this was going to be a storm of emotions. Memories would come flooding back. Mariella might be jealous; they had been here before, with her jealousy getting in the way, and every time, Damon remembered how they lived in the past with Mimi. What it might have been. And fate didn't just give it to them. It gave them both a taste of it, even enjoyed it, and then they couldn't quite get it going the same way again.
He had not been here in ages, and as he stepped inside, the familiar scent of aged wood and musty air filled his nostrils. The house looked unchanged, or at least he hoped so. He knew that if this house had been in the possession of the pack, they would have demolished everything from the past and done everything differently. He regretted their modifications to houses, and he knew that the only thing he could do was move on and not live in the past. But it was not always easy, as the past had been so perfect.
And then, there were the bad times, the times that broke them up, more or less. Of course, they could blame Damien, time, and whatnot, but Damon knew and remembered his own mistakes, his cruelty towards Mimi, and how he had almost given up, no longer fighting for their love. He had used their almost-shed session as a reason for his loss of interest in her.
Damien had been killed a long time ago, but he haunted Mimi's memories, her nightmares, her state of being. Someday, Damon wanted to get rid of that. He wanted Mimi to have happiness, without any bad memories, with no turmoil in her mind. But would it ever happen? Though forever and eternity is a long time, and despite their ability to glimpse into the future, they could never know for certain.
They arrived at the mansion, and as Damon looked around, he saw Mimi hadn't changed it. Mariella understood why. This place shouldn't be changed too much because there was such tremendous energy here—the energy of Damon and Mimi, the couple—and it brought her peace too. She felt like she was home. This place had a different feeling than their beloved Irish castle. It felt like the pack's home, the whole pack, and not just them. Not just some private "fuck palace" for the machines.
But she was curious, and Damon took her around the mansion, sharing his memories. His voice was calm, carrying the weight of those memories. It was as if every Salvatore was living through them, their sighs almost audible. Damon's expression did not reveal any inner conflict or desire to go to Mimi. He knew it was no longer his place to care for her.
Then, he carefully retrieved a worn photo album from a dusty shelf, filled with faded memories of his and Mimi's review photos. He settled into the familiar comfort of one of the old chairs, the one that carried the faint scent of Mimi. Mariella, noticing this, chose to sit on other chairs, avoiding the one that held the essence of their shared past.
As the judge posed with the triumphant dog, the entire Pack, with the exception of Charles, gathered around to examine the pictures. The Salvatores immediately launched into a heated debate, arguing over whether the dog was still deserving of its title, and how Mimi couldn't always pick a clear winner.
Mariella, a newcomer to this world, listened in confusion, struggling to grasp the concept of breed standards. Number seven, attempting to enlighten her, explained the intricacies of these standards, but she couldn't fully comprehend why someone would want to keep dogs sick or malformed and reward them for it. The whole situation left her feeling bewildered, and she couldn't help but think that humans were twisted in their pursuit of torturing innocent animals for their own amusement.
In the past, they had been happy, living their everyday lives together, something that Damon had never truly experienced with Mimi. Yes, they were part of the Pack, but Mimi had never truly belonged, and it was never the same. They were a couple, a married couple, and their love had left an indelible energy that permeated every corner of the house.
Mariella found herself drawn to it, appreciating the remnants of their love. She and Damon, on the other hand, lacked that same kind of energy. They were creatures driven by lust, not a genuine couple. She couldn't recall if there had been a similar energy during those seven years, as she had never paid much attention to it.
Damon shared with her the story of how they had both learned to be judges, working side by side, even judging cats for six months. Mariella was taken aback by this revelation, but she knew she didn't have the desire to become a judge herself. It was a deeply personal connection between Mimi and Damon, and she didn't want to interfere. Perhaps, in the future, they could entice Mimi and Damon to be judges again, with the rest of the Pack as the audience. It could be a fun experience, especially since several other Salvatores could also serve as judges.
When I heard the Pack was coming to the mansion, a surge of rage, like a roaring fire, welled up within me. I found myself in our spacious master bedroom, surrounded by the familiar scent of books and the softness of our plush bed. The occasional creaking of the floorboards under my weight punctuated the silence. Downstairs, I noticed everyone gathered around photo albums, their voices filled with nostalgia.
Not in the mood to reminisce, I made my way upstairs to grab a bite to eat. The anger in me had somewhat subsided after gathering more information about the tests conducted in that wretched place, where my comrades had infiltrated, destroyed, and salvaged whatever they could find. It had been a wise decision for us to escape by climbing down, as there was another facility on the other side of the rail, making it impossible for the boys to flee in that direction.
As I sat down to eat, Charles walked in calmly, his demeanor relaxed and non-threatening. He took his place at the table and locked eyes with me. My meal consisted of indulgent choices rather than what I should have been eating. My body was still in the process of healing and recovering.
In his soft, molten chocolate voice, Charles remarked, "I can tell you're plagued by nightmares, honey. You struggle to find peace in sleep and often resort to constant movement to avoid the haunting visions. You need someone to take care of you."
He spoke with a gentle tone, neither loud nor condescending, simply stating the truth.
I nodded in agreement and replied, "Yes, but right now, I can't bear the thought of any medical procedures, not even a simple blood test. That place has been obliterated, and everything within it has been seized. I've gone through the files and results myself. It wasn't a pleasant place, and I pray that no results were sent anywhere, though we can't be certain yet. The computers were severely damaged, so it will take time for our hackers to determine if any information was leaked and where it might have gone. There might still be more threats out there."
Charles nodded, his eyes filled with concern, and said, "That's good, but honey, trust me. It is good to know that too so we might be able to help too."
The gentle hum of the air conditioning filled the room, providing a sense of calm. "I won't do anything to you. After you have eaten, let's go to one bedroom, and I'll hold you."
The soft glow of the lamp on the ceiling cast a warm light in the room.
He murmured to me, "You don't have to sleep. I will just keep you near me, safe." His touch was gentle, his hands warm and reassuring. "I need to hold you, touch you. I have this need burning more or less to my soul as I feel you in our connection."
The faint scent of his apple lingered in the air, soothing and comforting. "Mariella was princess again but two weeks in the basement, she screamed and not for pleasure, so she has been given feedback too."
I nodded, not really saying anything yet. Just thinking about it. I knew I would be impossible for a long time. The sterile smell of the hospital room still clung to my senses, triggering memories of pain and discomfort. I couldn't really tolerate any medical stuff.
I kept my rage on so that the flanks wouldn't work, even though Samuel had assured me that my organs had been filled with nothing more than bump liquid when it was filled again. It had been full of some weird medicine. They had had no idea what. It had not been any dental substance, but some form of experimental stuff again and definitely not good for me. But I could not trust that some Salvatore would teleport next to me and try to flank me.
I looked at Charles, his eyes filled with understanding, and said, "I'm so cautious. I have pretty big problems, several of them. I mean, I really have a problem with all things medical and drugs, and I'm not in the mood to be brave, so you have to do a few things before I can be with you."
Charles nodded and spoke, talking calmly, softly, "Whatever you want, honey. We go by your needs and your wants here. I know your insecurities, your fears, and your need to be close. Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. I won't drug you. I'll help you where I can. I am your safety, I keep you safe, and warm. Close to me."
I finished my meal and didn't eat nearly correctly or enough, but I was recovering. The entire ordeal would take time before I could get every memory, every ghost feeling out of the way, and I knew that even though I had been in the hospital for six weeks, I was still far from well, and my condition could collapse. I could have an infection or whatever. I had been pumped quite full of anti-hibernation, but when it comes to me, nothing is certain.
I then took Charles into one bedroom and showed him the syringe on the table. It was one of my dental substances, and I had expected that if anyone wanted to take me into their arms, I would render them harmless first. My dental agent would empty the subject's teeth so that he could not do any anesthetic or sedation for several days. I had planned this out. Knowing my quartet and their need to care for me, but still. Salvatore might be able to influence on them.
I said, "That syringe, put it in your vein. It will clear your teeth for about a week, so you can't sedate or anesthetize me."
Charles took the syringe and stuck it in his vein. There were jars on the table, and Charles emptied his teeth into them. By the time he had filled 68 jars, his teeth were empty. I teleported the jars to a cabinet in medbay that I had a key to, and my powers hid that cabinet. There, I had a lot of dental materials in storage. It was a secure place and I could analyze those substances later on.
I watched as Charles slowly undressed, his clothes falling to the floor. The room was dimly lit, casting a soft glow on his naked body. I made sure there was no chance of him hiding anything in his pockets, so I had him place his clothes in the laundry chute. As he climbed into bed, I let out a tired sigh. The weight of exhaustion and fear bore down on me, making me feel dull and weary. I joined him, wearing a silky nightgown that brushed against my skin.
Charles pulled me close, his touch soothing and comforting. His purrs reverberated through my body, providing a sense of security. I felt safe and protected in his arms, allowing my anger to settle on the surface as I drifted into sleep. Charles was warm, his heartbeat and purring lulling me into a peaceful slumber. There were no nightmares, only the much-needed rest that my weary body craved.
As Mimi slept, completely limp and frail against him, Charles felt a sense of satisfaction. Despite her fragile state, he wanted to help her. He began to gently transfer his energy, enveloping her in warmth so that she didn't have to spend any energy to keep herself warm. He was determined to keep her safe and allow her to rest. It was in moments like these that his soul sang, knowing that he could protect and care for her. His love for her would endure for eternity, and he would always be there to care for her.
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