1. Ladybird.

I cradled my sick baby in my arms, feeling the weight of his tiny body against mine. Desperation filled my mind as I searched for a solution, knowing I needed help but first wanting to do something to ease his suffering. As a tooth vampire, I contemplated the power of my teeth, unsure if I could handle another euthanasia agent. Summoning my courage, I gently placed Apollo back in his crib to rest while I made my way to the medbay.

The scent of sterile cleanliness hung in the air as I entered, my eyes scanning the room for the necessary supplies. Lancets and small collection tubes caught my attention, and I carefully gathered them, making sure not to disturb the cleanliness of the space. I needed blood samples to run through the machine, hoping to find answers that would ease my fears.

My instincts, though not overwhelming, guided me less now than when I had worked with my cubs. I tried not to dwell on the memories, to avoid comparing the two situations, but it was impossible. Those cubs had reached a similar developmental stage, or perhaps even further, and a chilling fear clutched at my heart. I longed for someone to assure me that everything would be alright.

Returning to the nursery, I knew I had to spend time with the girls. They were still healthy, full of curiosity, and ready to explore the world around them. Carefully placing the limp Jake on the table, I took a lancet in hand and gently pierced his heel, collecting small tubes of blood. One for me to smell, and a few for tests. Jake didn't even flinch, his coughing and wheezing breaths continuing.

Putting him back in his crib, I repeated the procedure with the other boys. Meanwhile, I handed the girls bottles of blood to keep them entertained while I hurried to the medbay to analyze the samples. Now, I no longer worried about Damon questioning whose results they were; it was simply a necessary step in seeking help. I yearned for help.

As I smelled their blood, a strange sensation coursed through my teeth, and I bit into the jar, hoping the light blue substance held something other than a means to harm my babies.

I walked into the medbay, the sterile smell of disinfectant filling the air. I carefully placed the blood samples into the analyzer, anxiously awaiting the results of my substance. Satisfied with the outcome, I left the medbay and entered a room filled with laughter and chatter. The girls were playing, their giggles echoing through the room, while the boys peacefully slept, thanks to the comforting touch of velvet against their tiny teeth.

I couldn't help but feel relieved that the velvet had done its job. It was a light shade of blue, soft, and completely safe for my little ones. Wanting to help them further, I decided to try a little steam breathing to ease their congestion. Memories from my own childhood came rushing back, reminding me of how my mother used to do the same for me. It wasn't the most pleasant experience, but it always brought relief.

As the girls continued to enjoy their playtime, I realized they were becoming a bit too rambunctious. They started hitting each other with their toys, not out of anger but with a playful spirit that mirrored either my own or Damon's occasional outbursts. I had to intervene multiple times, providing them with more toys to keep them occupied and prevent any harm. I hoped that this was not the first time they felt their rage.

I put girls in the activity corner as I called it with toys and lots of stuff to get them moving, my babies had been most developmentally agile, and well, they were the oldest, but I had no idea if other babies had gotten as eager to try to stand as these. With the girls settled on the floor, I turned my attention to the boys.

It was time for their steam treatment, and it turned into quite a spectacle. They protested vigorously, their screams piercing the air. However, despite their resistance, I knew the steam would help them. I became the "nasty mommy," subjecting them to the hot vapor for about 20 minutes until it became clear that it was doing them good.

Afterward, they were finally able to consume their milk and blood, showing no interest in real food. That was fine by me; any nourishment I could get into their tiny bodies was a victory.

Meanwhile, the girls had become even more temperamental. They noticed I was giving more attention to the boys and not focusing solely on them, causing them to scream and occasionally resort to hitting each other once again. Time did not matter. 

I was a busy mom, juggling the needs of seven cranky babies, three of whom were sick and four who were simply jealous and in a bad mood. It felt like living in a personal hell at times.

It took time to feed the girls as I wanted them to try first themselves and then I would help out. It was messy and slow, but it was good for them. The boys were sleeping and after I would get the girls fed and they would get a nap, I would give the boys steam, milk, and blood and try to get them to eat anything.

Ice cream was one thing that they consumed. And it was often that it took time for me to care for boys and by the time I would give them velvet and make them rest, one girl or several would be woken up, demanding cuddling and holding. 

The cycle of trying to help one child only led to the needs of another arising–whether it was steam for a sick boy or cuddling and quality time with a girl.

In the midst of this chaos, I found myself yearning for the pack to return. I longed for their support and help. A few days later, the girls' crankiness escalated, and just as I had finished feeding Mira, she began to cry uncontrollably, eventually vomiting everything she had just consumed. 

The other girls quickly followed suit, their tear-streaked faces contorted in pain as they curled up, clutching their tummies, being hurt by aches. The room was filled with their anguished cries. Oh my god, they were sick too. And now they were starting to get a fever, their bodies growing hot with the illness. But it wasn't just any stomach flu, it was something more severe.

I let out a tired sigh, having just managed to put the boys to sleep, only to be faced with this new challenge. Exhaustion washed over me, having gone without rest for over a day, and no one had bothered to mention it. The blood tests revealed a nasty and severe infection in the boys, most likely a virus, since my teeth couldn't do anything to combat it. Exiting the nursery, I entered our bedroom, the lingering scent of our previous sex still hanging in the air.

Collapsing onto the bed, I sighed to myself, feeling the weight of the situation. "Where are you, Damon? I need you. Our children need you."

No answer. So, I reached for my phone and dialed Colin's number. He sounded concerned but informed me he was stuck in Indonesia, battling a nasty infection, helping a village full of sick people himself. Samuel was there too. He advised me to go to the magic house and seek help from Giselle, who was not only skilled in medicine but also a powerful witch.

Perhaps she would have potions to ease the babies' suffering. Colin added a playful comment, reminding me to ask for something calming for myself since Salvatore and his flanks were unavailable. His attempt at humor didn't amuse me much, but at least I had a plan now.

I returned to the nursery, observing my precious babies still sleeping peacefully, thanks to the power of my velvet. Grabbing a jar, I took it with me as I made my way to the magic house. I was grateful that this was a medical house, offering the best chance of finding help for my little ones.

As I arrived and asked for Giselle, I could hear her approaching. She stood before me, tall and elegant, with long black hair and a slender figure. She wore her usual attire of black and green robes, the epitome of a witch. Although she lacked a hat, her tightly bound hair and stern expression made her resemble a teacher.

"You look exhausted," she remarked bluntly. "Was there a problem with the pack or the kids?"

I said to her, my words tumbling out in a rapid stream as if time was slipping away from me. Babbling somewhat incoherently, I began, "Well, first of all, Mariella and the wolves didn't bind their babies' vampire powers, so the little ones ventured out into the city. And things have only gotten worse since then. They're roaming in Paris now, craving new cities to explore. I knew if I said something, the pack would turn against me, as those babies had already won them over. So, I let them go. But a few days ago, my boys fell ill. They fought with fevers, refusing to eat, and struggling to breathe. My teeth..."

Giselle interrupted my rambling, her voice calm and steady. "Take it easy, one thing at a time. So those idiots didn't bind the babies again. Fine, I'll take care of that. And your babies, they're sick, you say?"

I nodded and continued, "Yesterday, the girls started vomiting, complaining of tummy aches. They're not eating much either. Blood tests revealed a nasty infection in the boys, and I can't seem to bring down their fever. My teeth only produce velvet, which I used to help them sleep."

Giselle reassured me, "First of all, take a few deep breaths. It's normal for magical babies to fall ill, but they're immortal, so they won't die. They gained immortality shortly after birth, so they could get sick. It's heart-wrenching, but they'll recover."

I sighed, and Giselle smiled kindly. "I'll come and see them. This is just a minor setback, similar to the bugs we usually vaccinate them for. Since you've been taking care of them yourselves, I didn't think to give them the vaccine. But they'll develop immunity from this experience."

She led me to a room and handed me a steaming mug of coffee and a plate of sandwiches.

"You have to take care of yourself, so you can take care of them," she said.

I nodded gratefully and began to eat. As I took my first bite, I realized how hungry I was, and the coffee tasted like a sip of heaven. 

After returning to the house, Giselle meticulously went through each baby, softly talking to them and gently touching them. She reached into her robes and pulled out a few small bottles, handing them to me.

As she handed them over, she said, "This is electrolyte concentrate. Follow the instructions and have them drink at least one bottle a day. It will keep them hydrated and help their recovery. This little potion will soothe them, allowing them to sleep peacefully while still getting the rest they need. Your velvet might be compromised, they might make it ineffective, but this will ensure the rest. Remember, they need to drink, eat, and sleep. They may not have the energy to play or move for a while, so let them rest."

Grateful for the guidance, I nodded in agreement.

Before leaving, Giselle added, "Take care of yourself, too. Eat and sleep well, as the boys may be sick for a few weeks, even up to a month, and the girls may take a week or two."

I expressed my gratitude, calling her a lifesaver. With a gentle smile, she vanished into thin air.

Now armed with the means to help my babies, I began to formulate a plan. Balancing their needs with my own was a challenge, as I hardly had any time to myself with seven sick children. I also worried about how long the pack would remain wherever they were and if there would be any consequences for revealing that the babies were not bound. I wondered how effectively the eleven had initially bound them and if it would hold up in the long run. 

Giselle made her way to the grand house in Paris where the pack was staying. The temporary nurseries were set up, and she entered the pack's midst during dinnertime. As she stood in front of the bustling kitchen, the puzzled expressions on everyone's faces turned towards her.

With a resolute voice, Giselle addressed them, her anger palpable. "Shame on you all! You've become lazy, led by infants. I'm here to inform you that none of those babies will enter the magic house until their vampire powers are bound. We can't allow fully powered babies in, and you know it."

She continued, her tone cutting through the air. "Furthermore, I've brought you the vaccines for vomiting diseases and common respiratory illnesses. Unfortunately, I was too slow, and now Mimi's babies are sick. She's left to care for seven sick babies while you all focus on making nurseries and catering to infants. Look at yourselves! You're supposed to be strong, yet you're controlled by your own children."

Mariella, defensive of her children, spoke up. "I don't appreciate your tone when speaking about my children. And what do you mean Mimi's babies are sick? These can't get sick."

Mariella sought support from Damon, who remained silent, furrowing his brow as he contemplated what to do. He detested being manipulated, even by his own children, due to his laziness.

Snorting dismissively, Giselle locked eyes with Mariella. "If you had gone through what she did, you would be shattered. Bind their powers before even considering bringing them into the magic house. Go home. There's an alpha female with seven sick babies, struggling alone. But be warned, these illnesses are contagious, and you might fall ill too. It's just part of being a parent. Give your babies these vaccines unless you want them to catch a bug."

With that, Giselle abruptly vanished, leaving the pack to ponder her words and contemplate their next steps.