21. Efharisto.

The first thing Damon understood well was that he was safe. He needed to collect himself and try to comprehend why that experience had been so harrowing. Despite going through worse in his time, even with Mimi, these past few weeks had left him feeling like a house of cards, falling apart. He wondered why. After all, he was a strong telepath and an old, fucking powerful vampire who had fed off humans for centuries.

Yet, he now felt like a weak victim, unable to do anything. He had tried to protect Mariella, but he couldn't help Mimosa and Shadow, who had endured the brunt of the abuse. The memories of their repeated rape with various sex toys were still vivid in his mind. He realized these memories were Mimi's, still lingering within him, making them so clear. He knew he had to do something about it. He had still Mimi's memory, meaning hyper-focused photographic, and in this state, that was way freaking too much for him to handle. 

Damon opened his eyes and noticed he was in a hospital room, lying in a soft, comfortable bed. He could hear nurses walking in the corridor, talking about other patients. He soon realized that this was their own hospital, meaning they were back in the States. It was time to heal and move on from this ordeal.

He remembered Mimi, in her NSA jacket, directing everything without much conversation with him, being all business. Someday, he would become an agent too, but it would take time for him to feel like himself again. He was freaking sore, his arms ached, and his back felt stiff. He realized he had been lying here for at least a few days. When he tried to reach out with his telepathy, a sharp bout of headache hit him, forcing him to stop. What the fuck had happened to his telepathy as well? 

He groaned and attempted to shift in bed, lifting his head to reposition himself. But as he did so, a wave of dizziness washed over him, forcing him to halt his efforts. Clearly, he was far from okay and it would take some time to recover. Damn, his impatience was as strong as ever. Just the thought of being confined to this bed made him squint his eyes and emit a frustrated grunt. He was in fucking poor shape. That much was clear for him. He desperately tried to move, but there was no chance of that happening.

Reaching for the alarm button, he pressed it, eager to know how long he had been here, what was wrong with him, and what had been done to him. He was undoubtedly a creature of energy, capable of regaining his strength soon enough. However, he felt incredibly exhausted at the moment. He should have been able to recover fucking fast and easily, but that just did not happen. What the fuck was going on?

The nurse opened the door and entered the room, saying, "Oh, you're awake. Shh... take it easy. You're in no condition to move yet. Are you in pain? Don't attempt to use your telepathy just yet. Just rest."

Damon struggled to moisten his dry mouth and managed to croak in a weak voice, "How long? Why? What have they done to me?"

The nurse looked at him and replied, "You've been under for five days. There are still a lot of toxins in your blood, poisoning you. You underwent surgery due to some internal damage, and your healing process is not fully functional yet. Your telepathy is affected because your brain was operated on. They had to remove some implants from your brain, which required a lengthy and challenging procedure. Your brain needs time to recover."

Damon furrowed his brow, unable to recall any brain surgery. However, considering his limited consciousness, it wasn't surprising. He had very sparse memories from that damn place.

He then asked, "How long were we held captive? How is Mariella?"

The nurse responded, "A little over four weeks. She is resting. Her brain didn't need surgery since she didn't have any implants, but she was heavily drugged and suffered severe internal damage. It will take some time before she fully recovers."

Damon nodded, still feeling utterly exhausted and trapped in a freaking uncomfortable position. He was groaning as he tried to shift. It felt like his body weighed a freaking ton.

The nurse offered help, saying, "Are you uncomfortable? Let me help you. I'll turn you onto your side. Just don't exert yourself. It's easier if I handle the turning."

Placing her hands beneath him, she instructed Damon to grab the side rail and pull himself while she gently turned him. Her movements were skillful and efficient, leaving Damon feeling completely vulnerable, like a mere slab of meat at the bottom of the bed.

The nurse ensured that he was in a better position and gently advised, "Try to get some sleep. It's best for you. Your body has been through a lot, and recovering can be difficult despite your healing abilities."

She was a skilled professional and Damon was thankful for her, but angry and fucked up with his body. 

Damon nodded and replied, "Why am I so weak? I can't even lift my head without feeling dizzy and weak."

The nurse explained, "You have a significant amount of strong animal drugs in your system, such as etorphine, carfentanil, and romidifine. These drugs are hindering your healing process as your body prioritizes getting rid of them. Additionally, various herbs and tinctures have been used to interfere with your energy manipulation, preventing you from using it. And the implant in your brain was intended to restore your erectile function. As you might recall, it did not really work, but it caused some damage, and it was not easy to remove. Miss Springcove also provided you with pheromones to ensure you are fully functional again."

Damon asked, "Was Mimi here? I want to see her."

Somehow he missed her, and the mere thought of seeing her felt something that would ease him. 

The nurse replied, "No, she gave you the pheromones in Brazil and hasn't returned to the USA. Now, try to rest and sleep. Your body needs it."

Damon inquired about the others, and the nurse reassured him, "They will be fine in time, just like you. For now, focus on resting and recovering. Don't worry about anything else."

Damon let out a sigh. He was impatient, but he could feel the difficulty his body and mind were facing. He truly needed rest and recovery. He hoped the others would be alright too. He also questioned whether it was the best decision to make their situation public, instead of escaping as quickly as possible. Perhaps they would have been in better health. However, what was done was done, and now it was time to focus on getting better.

Damon fell asleep and later woke up, not feeling much better. He realized he had either turned in his sleep or someone had adjusted his position. It was dark as he lay awake, contemplating how this experience was freaking humbling for him and make him appreciate his health once he fully recovered. He understood Mimi a little better now. She had been in this state countless times, but never complained about how freaking, fucking terrible it was. Damon cursed silently in his mind, expressing his frustration. He didn't feel well enough to use his damn telepathy yet. 

Damon had no idea what the future held or how long it would take for him to fully regain his health. The time it would require frustrated him immensely, as he felt weak and unable to move. In the darkness of the hospital room, he smiled without joy, realizing there wasn't much he could do in his current state. Patience was necessary, but he felt as though he had already run out of it. He closed his eyes, hoping that the next time he woke up, he would be a little better, and that there was some hope for his recovery.

A few more days had passed since he initially woke up, and Damon bitterly thought that if his recovery continued at this slow pace, it would take forever. Two burly nurses were lifting him into a sitting position so he could eat again. His body was weak, and even basic movements caused him pain. However, he tried to use whatever energy he had to purge the toxins from his blood. It was a clumsy, slow, and exhausting process, but he wanted to feel like he was making some progress.

The stitches in his body reminded him of how irritating they were, but he resisted the urge to pluck them off to avoid infection. He considered himself a better patient than Mimi would have been, although he couldn't feel their bond as strongly as before. Mariella was also awake intermittently and seemed tired. He felt her but not really had talked to her that much yet. 

The Salvatores had been visiting him and updating him on the others. Charles and Adam, who had been subjected to more severe torture, were still mostly asleep and would require significant time to recover from their injuries. The burns on their cocks and balls would also take time to heal. Additionally, they had been drugged, making their recovery slow as well. It would be gentler for them to sleep for a while as they were healing.

The Salvatores had provided some dental substances to help with the wolves' recovery, and Mariella had received some as well. However, Damon had not been given much due to the risk of him reacting negatively. His body might reject their dental substances. Ironically, it would have to be Mimi who would be best to give dentals to him, but she was not around. Now, it was a waiting game to see if his eating habits and increased alertness would lead to any improvement in his condition. 

None of them mentioned Mimi. Wulfe and Magnum were also in the USA to assist them. Damon, though unable to move and still trapped in a hospital bed, was patient. It was preferable for him to be in the hospital rather than the pack house. They could return home once they were able to move and function better.

Damon expressed his frustration to Number Nine, who had come by, saying, "Next time someone wants to make a public rescue, I won't be one of the victims. Damn it, I'm not good at this self-sacrificing stuff. For Mimi, this would mean nothing, but I'm irritated and angry."

Number Nine replied, "Well, there's the whole publicity thing coming up. We've already received many interview requests, and you've been featured in magazines and on TV. Footage of the rescue has been shown on various news channels for the past two weeks."

Damon groaned internally but realized that being a public hero would keep him busy and prevent him from solely focusing on fucking Mariella's brains out. However, that action had little space in his mind. Number Nine informed him about the events leading up to the rescue and how hard Mimi had been working.

He also mentioned that Tina was a rare bird shifter and a tough individual. Damon stored this information for future reference, as it would be valuable to have such a rarity in their breeding pool. Eventually, it would be time for breeding, weddings, and achieving a perfect pack life. But for now, they needed a long and difficult recovery. It would be best for Mimi to continue working, so Damon wouldn't snap at her for no reason. He could reintegrate her into pack life once he was fully recovered and physically able.

Damon tried to maintain a clear perspective and see the positives in the situation. However, his own state of being was so messed up that his usual optimism didn't work. He wasn't accustomed to being the one needing assistance, and this vulnerability made him restless and irritable. He even snapped at Number Nine a few times when he discussed recipes they were planning to make. Right now, Damon had no interest in hearing about cooking school.

The stark white walls of the hospital room and the damn linoleum floor irritated him. The food was bland, and even though Salvatore had brought him some, he wasn't very hungry yet. He tried to be polite to the nurses, understanding that they were doing their best.

"At least my body isn't as strange as Mimi's," Damon thought angrily.

But if Mimi were in this situation, she would have to control her own body's reactions with willpower. Damon bitterly wondered if his willpower was not strong enough to affect his body.

"Oh god, I'm such a weakling," his thoughts were often unhappy.

However, there was improvement day by day, and Damon pushed himself as hard as he could. He wanted to get out of this damn hospital, back to a house, a home, where he could properly recover. He swore he would make it difficult to get those damn drugs and find a way to counteract them. This entire experience had been a real eye-opener for him, and he hoped, though he couldn't guarantee it, that the next time Mimi got sick, he would remember what it felt like lying in that damn bed. At least he wasn't feverish and restless, crawling on the floors like Mimi usually was. It had been a while since he had to take care of her like that. He pondered in his mind why that was. Was she in better health, or was he just tired of looking after her and having others do it instead? Damon tried to distract himself from his own problems by planning new protocols for when Mimi or anyone else got sick.