29.Gangsta's Paradise.

I was ready when I heard that the entire pack was coming over. Fine, let's go. I was putting the bouquets in place and generally enjoying myself. Somewhere in between, I'd get back to the fight clubs and was ready for that, too.

But I had now let my guard down and come out of my shell the most in a long time. I was ready to show that I, too, trust, love, and believe. I believe in us. I worked for hours and listened to the entire pack going through the house, with chatter coming from all over the place. I was waiting for the right moment for my next step. But as it is in my life, no happiness for me.

I thought I should go to dinner soon when Damon said tensely, "Mimi, will you come here?"

The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows on the walls. Fine, I wasn't thinking anything as I teleported to him, and he opened the door to one of the rooms. It was a room I had made for Adam or Charles. The air in the room felt heavy with tension as Damon stood there, his face contorted with fury. I didn't have time to say or do anything when he started.

Damon spoke, but his voice was filled with quiet venom. "So I thought we were doing fucking Mimi well. I foolishly thought you had feelings for me, but no. You always have to rub this same shit in my eyes and show me, don't you? And was there a word of truth in this letter?"

His words dripped with bitterness and anger. I could feel myself reacting, but not just yet. "I don't believe that now; you lying manipulator who plays fucking games with people's emotions? Is it funny to make people believe I'm going soft and then make them fucking have their own rooms and clothes and everything? Oh, fucking fuck with you, well this letter is worthless because it's a lie, oh that you can rip my heart out of my chest and well, you bitch."

Damon's voice grew louder, echoing through the room. In a fit of rage, he picked up my letter and set it ablaze, the flames dancing in his eyes. I felt the bond between us wither as he released his hold on it. The atmosphere turned icy, filled with his anger towards me, and his deep distrust.

And then he continued, his voice dripping with disdain, "Fuck Mimi, you're just an obligatory evil in this pack. The only one you get to be with is that the sex is fucking good, but not with you, only with Mariella. She's the one for me. Fuck, you've never made me feel the way Mariella does. Fuck you when you mean nothing to me, Mimi. And I can say it straight. During those seven years, I didn't regret so much when life was good and steady. You mean nothing to me."

Damon stormed into the room, and the other Salvatores entered, their footsteps echoing loudly in the tense silence. They tore the room to pieces, the sound of crashing furniture and shattering glass filling the air. They barked at me telepathically, their voices piercing my mind, and I endured it, feeling the weight of their anger. They found another room and shredded everything, everything, until there was nothing left.

Number one locked eyes with me, anger blazing in his gaze. My heart ached, the pain seeping through every fiber of my being. I wasn't protected, but I held it together. Determined to show my own emotions, despite the hurt he had shown me, I met his gaze, grabbed his hand, and teleported us to the top floor. The air grew colder as we ascended, goosebumps forming on my skin. I led him to the grand white double doors, their golden handles and intricate decorations glimmering in the dim light.

I had meticulously crafted the decorations myself, their golden shine catching the light as I handed the key to Damon.

My voice dripped with venom as I spoke, each word laced with anger and betrayal. "This must be yours and Mariella's. This very place was once our sanctuary, our bedroom. You despicable monster, feigning affection for me, only to exploit my vulnerability and then use it against me for a mere room. I foolishly believed you had changed, but clearly, I was mistaken. Don't worry, I will remove my belongings so that you can have your way with it, you heartless piece of shit. You relish in crushing me, don't you? Well, congratulations, because it turns out everything was a lie on your end. But you know what? It was never a lie for me. I damn well loved you, even throughout those seven years, but not anymore. I'll continue this mission on my own." My screams reverberated through the air as I struck him across the face with an open palm before storming out.

In an instant, I teleported to another house, seeking solace within my shell. The pain in my soul compelled me to conceal my emotions, burying them deep within. It was the one time I had dared to open up completely, willing to share every experience we had in that room.

I had created a space for us, a room far grander than those made for Adam or Charles. I had designed custom-made clothing for Damon and filled it with cherished memories and a music box. But he had destroyed that room too, just as he had shattered my heart. I knew I couldn't bear to go through that again.

Trust, surrender, love - those were not meant for me. My purpose was to fulfill my duty, save the world, and be a part of the pack solely because it served the greater good.

Damon stood hesitantly in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the inscription on the door. It was written in the ancient vampire language, so archaic that he had to strain to recall its meaning. His vampire name adorned the door, a secret he had never shared with Mimi.

He couldn't fathom where she had found it, but what chilled him to the core was seeing his vampire wife's name, Mimi's vampire name, etched alongside his. This was their room, and once again, he had reacted in all the wrong ways. He had lost Mimi, and now, he felt the crushing weight of that loss. Completely.

Mimi had been prepared for something, but he didn't even want to think about what. He let out a weary sigh as he inserted the key into the lock, the metal cold against his fingertips. He hesitated, unable to turn it just yet. Fear gripped him, knowing that he had extinguished all hope and destroyed everything inside. The mere thought of what Mimi had been ready for was enough to shatter his soul. But he had to face it, as painful as it was.

Mariella approached and wrapped herself around Damon, seeking solace in his presence. She could sense his immense pain, having glimpsed into the past and understanding what had occurred within these walls.

"Damon, do you want me to accompany you?" she asked softly.

Damon remained silent for a moment, contemplating, before finally responding, "No, I'll face it alone. Then we'll decide what to do."

Mariela nodded in understanding, patiently waiting as Damon opened the door and stepped inside, the click of the closing door echoing in the silence.

She empathized with Damon's reaction to the room, knowing it all too well. It was in her nature to comprehend him, almost as if she were designed for it. And Mimi, Mariela couldn't help but feel immense sorrow for her as well. She knew Mimi would never be as open and trusting again, for her fragility made trust a precious and delicate thing. Once shattered and betrayed, it was a monumental task to rebuild. Mariela understood that their involvement in the European job had come to an end, for they could no longer bear it. Adam and Charles were aware of the room's existence, yet seemed unperturbed by it.

Damon entered the room, closing the door behind him. He took a deep breath, the air heavy with anticipation, and flicked on the light. The room revealed itself, appearing three times larger than Adam's or Charles's chambers. Soft rugs adorned the floor, their familiar texture telling Damon of their origin being a Chicago home.

The bed stood grand and imposing, their own bedding still neatly arranged upon it. Decorative shelves displayed various objects, each holding fragments of their shared memories. Damon's gaze fell upon a napkin from the restaurant where he had proposed to Mimi, and his heart tightened. A music box sat nearby, its delicate melody a bittersweet reminder of their love. Even a few wedding gift packages from their first flank wedding were present, untouched, and hauntingly beautiful.

Damon leisurely strolled around the room, his fingers tenderly tracing the memories that adorned the walls. The realization struck him deeply. This room was a monumental step for Mimi, a testament to their shared journey.

As he reached the entrance of the spacious walk-in closet, he swung open the door, unleashing a wave of scents. Row upon row of meticulously tailored men's clothing greeted his gaze. Each garment, lovingly chosen and custom-made by Mimi, displayed her unwavering dedication. How she managed to acquire such an extensive wardrobe in a mere week remained a mystery to Damon.

Every piece exuded meticulous craftsmanship, promising a flawless fit and an impeccable appearance. In contrast, the clothes that once resided in Adam and Charles' closets appeared ordinary, lacking the personal touch. With a sigh, Damon closed the closet door and settled onto Mimi's side of the bed.

Lost in thought, he pondered his next steps, uncertain of the path that lay ahead. In his mind's eye, he envisioned the future Mimi had envisioned, the one where he could be of help and expose the darkness that plagued her world. She had been willing to share, to trust. Regret washed over him, knowing that he had failed to seize that opportunity.

The weight of responsibility settled heavily upon his heart, acknowledging that Mimi now faced her battles alone, and he was to blame. He had harbored hopes of personal growth and transformation, only to regress at the first taste of pleasure. Sex made him regress. He was just a fucking machine, not able to think things through.

The door creaked open, and Damon emerged from the room, sealing it shut and casting a protective enchantment to ward off intruders. In silence, he transported the entire pack to their New York mansion, casting a potent and enduring vampire spell that would last for months. And for those months, they indulged in relentless passion, their fervor so intense that even three women experienced an extended heat period.

Mimi's name remained unspoken, a shared understanding among the Salvatore clan. They had all witnessed the room's secrets when Damon first arrived, comprehending the path Mimi had intended to tread. In that moment, Damon reacted, altering the course of their shared destiny.

After the heat, no one reproduced, and they just kept fucking. But Damon didn't want to go to Ireland. They switched to another house of theirs, Boston. He couldn't bear to be in the houses Mimi had been in. They knew the job would last for nine months, and then what? The ice queen, who was as tightly in her shell as possible, would probably only be with four.

The world-saving mission was brutal, leaving me drained and exhausted. The fight clubs had multiplied, a consequence of pack's failure, and I found myself battling opponent after opponent. Mercy-killing missions became my responsibility when no one else could bear the burden.

In work mode, emotions were suppressed, and seen as weaknesses I couldn't afford. Envy consumed me as I watched others who could embrace their emotions without being consumed by them. It was not for me to feel, to be loved, to trust. My rage fueled me, a torrent of emotions I channeled into my willpower.

Thoughts were solely focused on the next job, be it a fight club or a mercy mission. Despite it all, everything fell into place, but I knew the toll it would take on me. I wouldn't be able to immediately join the pack and ensure their well-being, not after this job.

Fear demons lurked in every club, slowly sapping away my strength. I was undeniably powerful, but even I had limits. My powers, like anyone else's, waned over time, and I considered myself lucky to have completed the mission.

Once the job was done, I retreated to my house in Toronto. Within its walls, an incubator, supplies, and my scanners awaited. The pack was no longer my concern for now. When I felt ready, I would inform Colin and Samuel. The weight of metals filled me, remnants of the mission's aftermath. Nine long months had passed, and once again, the world was saved.

Now it was time for me to find solace in the rest. I reached out to Samuel, informing him of the mission's completion through a text message. He knew the fate of the herd.

"Samuel, it's done. Join me in Toronto, where miracles will be worked. I am full of beryllium, still potent, as well as dimethyl mercury and an array of other metals, poisons, substances, and drugs. I'm in the medbay, with an incubator, and my powers are on the verge of depletion. Mimi."

Lying in bed, the dim light cast a hazy glow as I battled against the relentless grip of beryllium. But amidst the struggle, a glimmer of relief washed over me, for the presence of dimethyl mercury induced a tetanic-like state, amplifying the intensity of my convulsions. Each slight movement or disturbance sent violent tremors coursing through my body, shattering my bones with their force. Beside me, Samuel's touch offered a fleeting sense of solace.

The sheer strength of the spasm propelled me into an arch, snapping my wrist with a sickening crack.

Samuel's voice broke through the chaos, assuring me, "Just hold on. I'll transfer you to the incubator. Colin and I will do whatever we can."

Carefully, they lifted me into the protective confines of the incubator, where the convulsions gradually subsided. It took time and sapped my strength. Samuel draped a cover over the incubator, enveloping me in darkness and a fleeting sense of security. Yet, uncertainty loomed over me like a heavy cloud. I felt an overwhelming sense of isolation and vulnerability, acutely aware that I had no one to rely on. I felt so damn lonely, weak and i had no one. 

Samuel and Colin exchanged frustrated words, and their efforts to find a solution met with disappointment. They had exhausted every avenue, with Samuel even attempting the binder Damon had used on Mimi, to no avail. Dresden's attempt to remove the beryllium had been thwarted by the relentless convulsions, causing Mimi's straps to strain under the pressure. Desperation settled in as Mimi languished inside the incubator for two weeks, her responsiveness fading while the convulsions persisted. Beryllium was merciless. 

With resignation, Samuel declared, "Alright, I'll take a vial of Mimi's blood to Mariella. I won't disclose its origin, and I'll bring a few other samples to mask its purpose."

Colin nodded, racking his brain for any substance in his arsenal that his leprechaun companion might know of, even if it offered the slightest glimmer of hope. Mimi's frail form weighed a mere 19 kilos, a skeletal figure wracked by convulsions, leaving Colin with a profound sense of helplessness that he had never experienced.