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The Salvatore Saga, Part three: Seven years pain and life after that.

I gave Damon my everything, I let him feel me, the whole me and it was too much. He divorced me, and they all left me. Pack did not want anymore. despair and pity started to feel less as my friends, old and new ones, started to take care of me. It was time for to me reborn, once again, to be a leader, to be a doctor. Be the best supernatural shifter specialized doctor. I had to keep busy, and not think what I had lost. My life was not easy, seven years that changed everything, and then Damon wanted me back. I had changed, he had changed. It was time to live in the pack but everything was new and then again, nothing had changed, not at once.

ippu81 · TV
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134 Chs

6. Chained To The Rhythm.

It was time for me to step up as the pack's doctor, showcasing my abilities despite any past grievances. Guided by my instincts, I maintained a calm and professional demeanor. As I entered the medbay, I meticulously prepared each bed, ensuring the drip racks were in place. The room was filled with the faint scent of antiseptic, mingling with the subtle metallic tang of blood.

I carefully arranged a small rack to hold the blood tubes, meticulously labeling each one with a pen. This would help me keep track of whose sample belonged to whom. The process was relatively straightforward. I would cannulate each pack member, drawing a single tube of blood from each. The distinct scent of iron would fill the air as I collected their samples. Using these, I would then create my dental concoctions.

I set aside collectors and bags to hold the miraculous tooth-saving mixtures I would create. Anticipating the need to dilute certain concentrates, I gathered an ample supply of centrifugation fluid. Ensuring efficiency and speed, I positioned the cannulation supplies next to each bed.

With everything in order, I changed into my scrubs, ready to assist my patients. Patient gowns were already reserved for each pack member, simplifying the process. Soon, it would be time to gather my patients and set things in motion.

Once fully prepared, I made my way to the lobby where the pack still congregated. As I approached, I could hear the murmur of their voices echoing in the room.

Positioning myself in the center, I commanded their attention, "Now, listen to me for a minute. Each of you will proceed to the medbay. There's a bed waiting for each of you, and I will conduct a thorough examination. Though this germ won't affect me, I can assist you. So, let's move swiftly and efficiently."

Damon's piercing gaze locked onto me as he asserted, "You're not the pack leader; I am."

In response, I confidently retorted, "This time, mister, you're not in charge. You're exhausted, sick, and as pale as a ghost. Lucky for you, I happen to be a skilled doctor. I possess the expertise to nurse you back to health. No arguments, just follow my lead, and I'll have you fixed up in no time. Then we can figure out our next steps."

With determination, I guided them towards the medbay, where they each settled into their beds, donning fresh gowns. Progress was being made. Now it was time to tend to each one individually. I skillfully inserted the cannulas, drew blood samples, and administered fluids through the drip. Initially, the fluid in the drip was a spinning fluid or pure bump, a prelude to the sampling process.

Once completed, I retreated to the back of the medbay to prepare my concoctions. Equipped with collectors attached to my teeth, I meticulously crafted various substances. Labeling each bag with the recipient's name, I then concentrated on the mixtures.

Diluting the solutions took time, but I ensured each bag was ready for administration. Loading them onto a movable table, I proceeded to my patients' beds, carefully placing the bags in the drip rack and adjusting the infusion speed. Trusting my intuition, I accounted for the varying needs of each individual. Some required a faster delivery, while others necessitated more bags because of the severity of the illness. I knew this routine would become a regular occurrence, possibly on a daily or alternate-day basis. Dilution was crucial, a process that demanded my attention.

Strangely enough, I discovered that consuming specific foods enhanced my abilities. Indulging in delectable treats like ice cream, cakes, and an assortment of sweet berries and fruits, I found that my own creations emitted a similarly sweet aroma. At least my concoctions weren't vinegar-based.

It was an instinctive inclination, a characteristic of being a tooth vampire. I was well-acquainted with my own creations. However, rarely had I utilized my skills for healing and rescue purposes. My expertise lay in the realm of poisons. Perhaps anything harmful or hurtful was a consequence of my true nature.

The experience of aiding and saving others proved to unexpectedly invigorating. As a doctor, I now could employ my teeth, just like the rest of the pack, to heal and assist. It brought me a profound sense of satisfaction. No more need for me to be just a poison factory.

I found great satisfaction in the ability to dilute a bag of concentrate, its pungent scent wafting through the air, before carefully placing it in a drip. I skillfully cannulated each patient, the sight of their veins punctured with precision. Nestled in their beds, the entire pack lay, their pale faces reflecting their misery.

The dental solution, its sharp, antiseptic smell filling the room, brought relief to their fevers, soothing their symptoms. They constantly beckoned for my attention, and their every whim and need to be tended to without hesitation.

I assisted them one by one to the toilet, encouraging movement and independence. Diapers and urinary catheters were not my preference; the sound of their footsteps echoed in the hallway as they made their way to relieve themselves. I went by my gut, doing what seemed right, not thinking things, but doing this just with instinct. This was the first time I, a control freak, surrendered to my instincts and did not overthink everything.

Each craving, each dietary restriction catered to, a feast of flavors and textures presented before them. I delighted in the treats I brought, quickly whipping up something if their desires called for it. In this role, I embodied the essence of a doctor, a nurse, a cook, and a cleaner, all at once.

The pack, engulfed in sickness and discomfort, voiced their complaints incessantly. Their bodies ached, their restless movements a testament to the fever's grip. Meaning they were on the floor quite many times when the fever rose and made them restless. The constant coughing, a harsh sound that filled the silence, only added to their misery.

They expressed their distress without hesitation, their voices resonating with frustration. As I observed their behavior, I couldn't help but recognize the stark difference between us. When I am sick, I refrain from complaining, concealing my weaknesses behind a facade of strength. My experiences had shaped me, setting me apart from the pack. I couldn't fathom behaving as they did. It is just one thing that separates us and it was one thing that got me thinking why. 

My dental duties took time, meticulously cleaning and draining substances from my fangs into a bag for the pack. It drained my energy, but I had plenty to spare. I offered my assistance to everyone, allowing them to drink from me, and fulfilling their desires.

Nothing else mattered in those moments as I nurtured, cared for, and healed my pack. Surprisingly, they accepted my care and nurturing with gratitude, a bond forming between us. Countless times, I meticulously washed and wiped the beds of Salvatore's and Mariella's, the scent of disinfectant lingering in the air.

Adam, Charles, and the wolves proved easier to treat, their stoic nature minimizing complaints and movements. They peacefully slept, resting and recovering faster than Salvatores and Mariella. Some Salvatores attempted to persuade me to join them in bed, seeking comfort, but my responsibilities left no room for such indulgence. They rejected Mariella, her persistent cough and fever causing hesitation. 

I lost count of the times I dragged a sweaty, nearly legless man to and from the bathroom. Thankfully, my rigorous exercise routine kept me in excellent shape, allowing me to accomplish the task. I made sure to eat and rest as much as possible, but my life revolved around three weeks of nurturing, healing, and assisting others. Even then, there was always something to complain about.

One of the most absurd complaints came from Mariella when she was almost fully recovered. She griped about the smell of the bedding in the medbay, insisting that it reeked of hospitals. According to her, we needed better laundry detergents so that the medbay would exude the fragrances of flowers or fresh air.

Unfortunately, the hygiene products chosen by Damon for cleaning and washing the bedding didn't come in any other scents. The lingering odor of disinfectants and medical supplies was simply inevitable. Perhaps things could change, but maybe they wouldn't. Despite finding her complaint amusing, I kept my amusement concealed. It was ingrained in me to hide my weakness and not show vulnerability, even if I were to fall ill in the future.

Maybe this revealed something about my strength as the alpha female and how I created a safe environment for my pack. A place where they could freely express their sickness, and complaints, and be genuinely cared for. And then I realized that this was again my age-old thing with weakness and strength.

It was quite obvious that deep down; I did not see a pack strong enough to provide me so safe an environment where I could be so relaxed that I might voice my complaints. I was just too strong, even when sick and I would not tell this little thing to anyone as it was nothing that improved pack life. 

It took me three weeks to nurse everyone back to health, ensuring my pack was nurtured and healed. Throughout the process, I refrained from complaining or restricting anyone. Instead, I provided help, nourishment, and hydration. I understood that a fever could cause restlessness, leading to individuals crawling on the floor. Now, I wasn't the only one being a difficult patient.

Damon proved to be quite challenging as well, requiring me to lift him off the floor many times. I did not knock him out, not me. I just lifted him back to bed, cannulated if needed, and put those sides up, after getting my bags drip into him. My stuff took care of their fever fast and it was then time to give them a bed bath. They said nothing, just groaned and moaned as I washed them. 

When the three weeks finally concluded, and everyone's condition improved, not a single word of gratitude was uttered towards me. They all disappeared, seeking sex and sustenance. And honestly, I didn't expect any grand gestures of appreciation or anything more than that. I wasn't disappointed. I restored the medbay to its original state, meticulously cleaning everything. Seeking solace, I indulged in a long devotional shower, activating the spa remote for some much-needed pampering time.

It was time for me to enjoy this magnificent castle and all of its lovely rooms. I had a wonderful week as I used my dark finder radar and sought so many hidden rooms and corridors for me to live on. Let the pack fuck themselves into shape and then, after weeks, we could see what this is all about. 

Damon gazed at Mariella, their bodies intertwined after a week of passionate encounters. They had engaged in such intimacy for various reasons - to align their energies, to release pent-up anger, and to find solace in each other's vulnerability. It was during this time that Damon gained a newfound understanding of Mimi's condition, and he marveled at her incredible self-control. Despite feeling awful, Mimi never let on about her discomfort.

They had battled a respiratory infection, not overly severe, but still troublesome. The symptoms brought fever, aches, and pains, making it an unpleasant experience. Damon couldn't help but admit that he, like everyone else, had underestimated the extent of Mimi's suffering. None of them truly comprehended the complexity of Mimi's condition or the extraordinary healing powers she possessed.

It was always so easy to assume as she never complained, but when Damon thought of all the nasty infections that Mimi had had over the years, he was truly impressed as those had been very severe. And she must have felt awful, but she never said a peep.

Regret weighed heavily on Damon's heart as he caressed Mariella's skin and confessed, "We failed to grasp the magnitude of what Mimi was curing us with. We didn't even try. Instead of showing restraint and self-control, I remained bedridden, reduced to crawling on the floor."

His voice dripped with bitterness and shame. "She had to practically drag me to the bathroom, wash me in bed, and cater to my every whim. I refused to eat or drink, constantly complaining. And I wasn't the only one. All of us Salvatores behaved that way. All of us."

Mariella sighed, intimately familiar with Damon's struggles. Her touch was gentle, an attempt to soothe his inner turmoil.

"The entire pack was like that, and Mimi tirelessly cared for us. From the beginning to the end, she never complained, never grew bored or resentful. She didn't confine or medicate us. For three entire weeks, she selflessly tended to our needs. And when I had to care for that girl for just a couple of weeks, I grew impatient. I couldn't compare to Mimi. She's always in a worse state, always sicker."

Damon shook his head ever so slightly, finding solace in Mariella's comforting touch. She was his anchor, trying to ease the storm within him.

Damon continued, his voice tinged with weariness, "But she goes to sleep when I run out of nerve. I just can't pick her up off the floor. It's a significant reason to give myself that Mimi needs to rest." He sighed, rubbing his temples. "That's why she has to sleep. The infection goes away faster when you keep her asleep."

Mariella looked at Damon, her fingers gently stroking his arm, feeling the tension slowly dissipating. She noticed the soft hum of the air conditioning in the room, providing a cool breeze against her skin.

"She is such a difficult patient," she whispered, her voice filled with concern. "But, darling, what are we going to do now?"

Damon pondered for a moment, his mind racing with possibilities. "I suppose we should go out to eat," he suggested, the thought of a warm meal filling his senses. "And then have a look at the lady. It's about time we got that lady under control. Or what do you think?"

Mariella nodded, her eyes glimmering with determination. She stood up, the wooden floor creaking beneath her weight, and walked towards the window. The sun bathed the room in a golden glow, illuminating their resolve.

"Damon, let's go eat," she said, her voice filled with purpose. "And I'll snoop on Mimi a little bit about this alpha female stuff, see what I can find, and then go from there."

Damon grunted in agreement, his muscles now relaxed and ready for action. "Fine, food first," he replied, the anticipation of a satisfying meal filling his nostrils. "And then we'll see if we can get this pack to work properly for once."