The Salvatore Saga, Part Four: My new Life

Damon walked down the corridor on his way to Mimi, feeling tired. He knew that the upcoming week would be grueling because of the surgery, but he was prepared for it. He had made it clear to Mariella and other females that he would be spending time with Mimi, both now and in the upcoming week.

He wanted to patch things up and deal with the jealousy that still lingered from the swing episode. He was determined to show Mimi that he truly loved her and wanted to learn how to prioritize her. As he walked, he realized it would become easier and more natural over time.

The dark mahogany-lined walls of the corridor gave him a slightly claustrophobic feeling. He thought about how the panels should either be painted or removed to make the corridor brighter. He didn't want it to feel too much like a hospital or the path to an execution.

The heavy and oppressive feeling in his mind grew with each step as if a whispering voice was filling him with dread. After a few moments, he cursed and called out to Mimi, trying to reach her through telepathy. He sensed she was having a nightmare, but couldn't penetrate it.

"Wulfe, Mimi is having a really bad nightmare. Can you sense it? It's too much," he sent a feeling of dread to Wulfe, who responded angrily in his mind.

Wulfe, being Mimi's soulmate in a way that Damon could never be, felt a strong connection to her. This translated into a fierce protectiveness, especially now that Mimi was suffering. Wulfe, who was over 2500 years old, didn't hesitate to help Mimi without her permission if he saw the need. And now, there was a need like no other. 

Wulfe focused his mind, attempting to grasp the feeling and gain some understanding of it.

"More. Come on, unicorn, give me more," he muttered, his voice clearer and more focused.

He cursed as he recognized the evil whispers in Mimi's mind, blaming Krycheck for it. Now, he needed to find and erase this memory, along with its backup.

"No biggie, my unicorn," Wulfe swore to himself as he sat in a dimly lit bedroom, his leg slightly crossed.

He centered his power, closed his eyes, and focused. Soon, the light yellow walls and softness of the bed faded away as Wulfe's telepathy unfurled, tracing the location of that vile memory within Mimi's mind.

Damon walked briskly towards the room where Mimi was. Running and panicking didn't help, so he focused on maintaining the connection to her and pushing through the nightmare. More feelings and sensations flooded him, causing tension in his jaw and a slight clenching of his fists as he finally reached the door.

He opened the door and discovered that Mimi wasn't in bed. Fine, but where was she? Ah, the bathroom. He noticed the slightly opened bathroom door and saw Mimi sleeping in the bath. Cold dread washed over him, but her face was pale and her lips were rosy, not blue. As Damon reached out and touched the water, he realized it was hot.

"Thank God," he mumbled under his breath.

He shook Mimi, desperately trying to wake her up. No reaction. He slapped her face hard, causing her head to snap to the side, but she barely whimpered. The nightmare lessened slightly.

As Damon felt a sense of floating and the absence of his own body and sensations, he cursed. "Fuck, what the fuck has happened to you? But fine, let's give you sensations."

He reached over and turned on the nozzles, causing the water to circulate. He grabbed her arm and pressed their tattoos together, pushing as hard as he could to create sensations.

He spoke to Mimi in her mind, pouring his love and emotions into his words. "Baby, feel my love, feel me. Come on, come to me. This isn't true. I love you. Come on, find me."

He continued to whisper his mantra, willing her to feel him. With one hand, he started to touch and pinch her, creating sensations in her body. There was no time for gentleness. He was hurting her, but it was for a good reason. She had to wake up.

As Wulfe had told Damon, this was the work of Krycheck. Damon cursed him in his mind, acknowledging that Krycheck was one nasty bastard, even worse than Sark with his mind fuckery.

Krycheck's voice whispered to me, telling me I was nothing, that I had no body, that I was merely a ghost. It urged me to let go, to stop existing. But then another voice spoke to me, reminding me of love and urging me to remember it, to feel it.

I felt a sensation of being held, but it quickly faded as the nightmare took hold of me again and again. Yet, there was always a ghostly trace of that sensation, something that made me want to exist, to feel.

If I couldn't feel anything physical, perhaps I could find solace in the mental realm, like love. So, I focused on that feeling, on love, and suddenly I found myself standing in a realm of pure whiteness.

There was nothing but whiteness. I couldn't see my body, but I could see the whiteness. I concentrated on that love, and it blossomed inside me, like a roaring fire warming me up.

I could sense something taking shape, a shimmering form emerging from me like a thick golden rope - my love. I allowed it to grow, and the rope extended into the whiteness, yet I could still feel its presence. The whiteness enveloped me, and although I had no physical sensation, I let my love anchor me.

I allowed it to grow and follow wherever it led. I had no sense of time or the means to measure it, but I felt a pull, a tug, from that thick golden rope of love. It became more insistent, and a voice called me to come to him. I moved, even though I had no legs, and it didn't feel like walking.

I was simply surrendering to whoever was calling me, allowing myself to be pulled towards him. The whiteness surrounded me, and I could still hear Krycheck's voice, but the voice of this other presence urged me not to listen and to return to our love. I surrendered to it.

Meanwhile, Wulfe had created a space in Mimi's mind and partially separated her from the nightmare. Now, it was up to Damon to make a difference and save Mimi. Wulfe had to focus on pushing the persistent nightmare as far away as possible, and it was an arduous task, even for him. He couldn't provide any assistance. The fate of Mimi rested solely on Damon's shoulders and the power of love to set her free.

Wulfe sat in the bedroom's dimness, sweat beading on his forehead, his hands trembling as he concentrated and fought against the nightmare, attempting to silence the relentless whispers of Krycheck in Mimi's mind. This had to work; there was no other choice. Mimi's babies were peacefully asleep inside her, oblivious to the turmoil surrounding their mother, which provided some comfort and eased the worry. 

The tug of the rope grew stronger, and I could see someone standing there - leather jacket, jeans, dark hair, and a cocky grin. It was Damon, holding the other end of my rope, pulling me towards him. As I got closer, he embraced me.

"I have no body, I am just a spirit," I said.

He replied, "No, baby, you have a body. Feel this."

He pinched me sharply, making me jerk and exclaim, "Ouch, that hurt!"

Damon smiled and said, "Wake up. You're having a nightmare. Wake up and feel this."

He pinched my nipple, causing me intense pain. Sensations kept bombarding me one after another, and gradually, I began to see my body - my hands, my arms.

Finally, Damon said, "Fine, you're stubborn," and slapped me across the face.

I snapped my eyes open, gasping for breath, my heart pounding. Automatically, I pushed the memory away, determined to bury it with the rest of my troubles.

Damon stood next to the tub, looking at me.

He spoke tersely. "That memory needs to go. Wulfe knows, and it's his doing that I woke you up."

I had no reply, as my mouth felt as dry as the Sahara. I nodded wearily.

Damon said to me, "You and bathtubs, why is it always you that get into trouble?"

I managed to say, "This tub keeps the water at the exact temperature of my body, so it gives a pleasant feeling. You know how it feels when you submerge your hand in warm liquid - a sense of lacking sensation. I had nozzles on earlier, but..."

Damon looked at me, cocking his head, waiting for me to finish my sentence. Then I felt him probing my thoughts, and he smiled slightly. I could see his worry and feel it too as he kept our arms twined together. My wrist ached, and my tattoo began to grow once again.

Damon said, "Now, missy, you get up there. I'll wash you in the shower, and then we'll go to sleep. You're bone tired, and that was not nice. But I and Wulfe will keep you safe. No nightmares. The babies are fine; they're sleeping."

His tone left no room for argument. He pulled me up, helped me out of the tub, and pulled the plug so the water drained away.

As he directed me to the shower and had me sit, he said, "You know, baby, that tub seats two, so at some point..."

There was a glint in his eye, as well as determination.

He began to wash me, both of us naked. However, he wasn't feeling as lustful at the moment. He was still visibly affected by whatever had troubled me in my nightmare. I could sense that he genuinely cared for me and wanted to keep me safe. It was him, along with his alpha side and protective instincts, that enveloped me like a comforting cocoon, ensuring my safety.

He didn't inquire about the details of the memory, but I told him anyway. "No one knows. Well, Jake was the only one who had an idea because he helped me through it, but I never shared it with anyone else. It's a dark and unsettling part of my past, and I advise you not to try to uncover it," I explained.

Damon reassured me, saying, "Hush now. Let me take care of you. We'll go to sleep and things will be better in the morning."

I sighed and replied, "Wulfe won't let this go easily. It's a nasty memory that might trigger him again after Krycheck."

Damon softly murmured, "I told you not to worry. Let me handle that memory for you. It will fade away, and you'll be safe. You exist, you have a body, and you have my love."

I nodded, glancing at my forearm. There it was - a depiction of myself with a golden rope emerging from my heart, connecting me to Damon. The dark mist surrounding us represented Krycheck, but our bond kept him at bay. It was as if the picture had come to life, so vivid and real. Yet, it served as a reminder of my past and our love.

Everything would be alright; it was just my haunting past, much deeper and more troubling than I cared to admit to myself or anyone else. Perhaps the universe had brought Damon into my life as my husband, my mate, my anchor, and maybe even my confidant.

However, I realized I struggled to confide in Damon fully because he had a tendency to share my secrets with Mariella. It should be my choice what Mariella knew about my past, not Damon's. This was one aspect that set number two apart from Damon. He didn't blurt out my personal information to Mariella, making him my true confidant. 

Damon's grip was firm yet gentle, not too rough, but not overly delicate either. He made sure I was thoroughly cleaned, and I couldn't help but sense a hint of jealousy from him. I wasn't sure if it was intentional or if our connection was just so open that everything came through. It was a bit unnerving, to be honest.

Most of the time we spent together, our connection had been closed off, almost shut down completely, especially since Mariella came into the picture. Back then, my connection with Charles was stronger, but now I wasn't even sure if my connection with Wulfe was as open as this.

It felt like I had delved deep into Damon's soul, seeing his true feelings, his core. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to see or feel all of this. After all, I had learned to be cautious, not to push him too much, as he had pulled away and turned to Mariella in the past.

As he washed my scalp, he reassured me, saying, "Don't be afraid. Get to know me. Let our connection be open."

I allowed my mind to wander, my soul to feel him, and in return, his soul felt me. It was a comforting sensation, like a soothing balm healing my past traumas. I hadn't realized they were still so present, but Damon was easing them.

He gently said to me, "You've been through so much, my poor thing. But it won't be like that anymore, not on my watch. I won't allow it."

I replied, "Well, it's just me, broken beyond repair. I've seen myself as a monster for so long that I've forgotten what it means to be whole."

Damon remarked, "You may be broken, but I'll be the glue that puts you back together. Our love will heal you, believe me. Love is the strongest force in the universe, capable of miracles. So yes, you may see yourself as a monster, and so do I. Let's be monsters together, and let Mariella be our angel."

I nodded, feeling exhausted. Being a doctor, saving lives, and all that, it definitely had its thrills. But the responsibility was something else entirely, and that's what really got to me.

You had to be so damn careful, so aware of every little detail, trying to prevent anyone from dying while also ensuring their overall health. But damn, free will. I couldn't force my patients to eat healthy, exercise, and cut back on the booze. It just didn't work that way. 

Damon washed every nook and cranny of my body, sending his love to our babies and waking them up. Their love for him brought a smile to his face, and it soothed both of us, connecting us as a family and helping us move forward.

As Damon handed me a pink bathrobe with my name on it, he put on one of my big robes now carrying his name. I didn't say a word. He combed my hair, and as we left the bathroom, he had chosen a different nightgown, meaning no nightgown at all. We would sleep naked, pressing our chakras and magic symbols together, creating a powerful connection. The bed was ready, and it was time to sleep. 

I crawled into bed and pulled the covers over me. We only had one big blanket, and Damon came to lie next to me.

He said, "Come on, come on top of me. Don't worry, you won't crush me."

I rolled my eyes but did as he said, making sure I was in the right position as I leaned into him. Our chakras locked one by one, and our connection blazed like an inferno. Finally, he pressed my upper body into the right spot, activating his magic symbol so he could draw power from me. After all, I was the power battery of the pack. 

His hot, firm body beneath me, our connection, and my exhaustion soon took over, and I fell asleep. I didn't have much time to think about anything else, just letting sleep take over.