Bran came out of his study. It was time to do Mimi again. When he went into the kitchen, a sight confronted him. Samuel Charles and Adam were destroying his bug farm. All the bugs had been taken out, and Charles was pouring petrol on them and burning them.
Samuel's eyes widened in disbelief as he saw his father standing before him. He couldn't help but notice the pungent smell of frustration and anger in the air.
His voice trembled as he mustered the courage to speak. "What the fuck has softened your brain, bugs, really?" The words hung heavy in the room, filled with a mix of tension and confusion.
The sound of Samuel's voice echoed, bouncing off the walls as he continued his tirade. "Do you realize you're a wolf, not a fucking hedgehog or a bird? You're supposed to hunt and eat meat." The frustration in his voice was palpable, a mix of disappointment and concern.
Samuel's face contorted with anger as he confronted his father about the consequences of his actions.
"Well, now I know what the fuck made that disease catch so fucking well. Malnutrition. Yes, me and Colin thought about it for a long time, but now the fucking reason is clear. This will not stop here, you idiot!" His words dripped with a sense of urgency and determination.
Curiosity and worry filled his mind as Samuel questioned his father's choices regarding Mimi's well-being.
"And what have you been feeding Mimi? Oh, good fuck with you! That girl's system must be fucked up."
The sense of concern for Mimi's health hung heavily in the room, a weight on Samuel's shoulders.
Bran, attempting to defend his actions, interjected with a calm tone. "Don't judge so harshly. I have noticed a tremendous boost in my energy levels when I eat treats."
The sound of Bran's voice contrasted with Samuel's growing frustration, a momentary pause in the heated conversation.
Samuel's hand shot up in the air, his anger reaching its peak. His voice now echoed with even more intensity.
"Really? The energy levels are up? Oh well, you eat a lot more often than normal, and those disgusting bars have enough honey in them to put you in a diabetic coma."
The sharpness in his words cut through the air, leaving a lingering sense of bitterness. A mixture of worry and impatience filled Samuel's voice as he urged his father to prioritize Mimi's well-being.
"Oh fuck, let's see how Mimi is. I hope you've been following my instructions." The urgency in his voice was met with a sense of desperation.
Trying to reassure Samuel, Bran replied, "I've given her fever medicine when I noticed she's got a fever. She ran out of the nutritional solution a week ago, but she's been loving the bug smoothie and biscuits."
The sound of Bran's voice was filled with a mixture of confidence and ignorance, unaware of the harm he had caused. Damon, listening intently, turned around and approached Bran. He couldn't hide the concern etched on his face.
He spoke with a mixture of disappointment and anger, "So you've been grinding fly larvae, beetles, spiders, crickets for my wife and making her drink them and flavoring them with honey. Oh crap, you bloody idiot."
The frustration in Damon's voice was clear, a deep sense of betrayal simmering beneath the surface. The room fell silent for a moment as Damon revealed the gravity of the situation.
"Mimi has an infection and probably a bowel obstruction, poisoning. Honey is no good for Mimi, unless it's two brands, as Mimi is so sensitive to some flowers and herbs that if the bees have made honey from their pollen, it will poison Mimi, poison her." The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a sense of dread settling in.
Samuel's face turned pale as he realized the extent of the harm caused. He quickly went to the cupboard and retrieved a jar of honey, handing it to Damon. Damon tasted it and shook his head in disappointment.
"There are at least 23 different plants that are not good for Mimi. Oh, for crying out loud," he exclaimed, the frustration clear in his voice.
Damon's gaze shifted to Samuel, a mix of disappointment and frustration in his eyes. He couldn't help but express his disappointment in the choices that had led them to this point.
"I hope that research into contagious cunt warts was worth it. It's a fucking bummer that Mimi is always the motherfucking payer when the crazies fuck up and fuck up good."
The weight of his words hung heavy in the room, a sense of regret permeating the air. Bran's eyes lit up as he realized the extent of his mistakes. He attempted to find solace in the chaos, acknowledging his own shortcomings.
"My boy, yes, you have done your share of harm to Mimi. I couldn't know when no one tells me everything."
His voice held a sense of resignation, a realization of the consequences of his actions. Samuel's gaze locked with his father's, a mix of anger and disappointment in his eyes. His voice trembled as he confronted his father once again.
"Where are the instructions? Did you read them, you fucking idiot?" The frustration in his voice was undeniable, a culmination of the mistakes made and the consequences they now faced.
"I wrote the feeding instructions," Samuel said, voice dripping menace.
He had already guessed the actual answer.
Bran looked innocent and said, "Yes, I followed the dosages."
Samuel said, "Well then, have you always prepared the antibiotic, diluted it? Did you use a sterile procedure while doing it?"
Bran said, "No, I let it drip at the same time as the fever medicine took time to work, then I unhook it, just like fever medicine. There was no need to make more."
Samuel let out a heavy sigh, his frustration clear in the way his shoulders slumped. "Show me the instructions," he said, his voice tinged with impatience. "Read through them, and let's see if you can even read, you fucking idiot. Come on, get the instructions."
Bran met Samuel's gaze, his expression calm but firm. "No need to talk like that," he replied calmly. "The instructions are here."
Together, they made their way into Bran's room. The air in the room felt thick with tension. Damon and Adam followed them silently. Adam felt frustration inside him when he had time to tell this idiot piece of his mind, too.
Bran walked over to his desk, the sound of shuffling papers filling the room. He searched through the files, the rustling of papers growing louder with each flip. Finally, he pulled out a piece of paper - the dosage instructions for the fever medicine and the anesthetic.
Samuel's eyes narrowed as he examined the single sheet of instructions. "And when I gave you 12 sheets of instructions, this is just one of them. Where are the rest?" he asked sharply.
Bran furrowed his brows, his fingers skimming through the papers on his desk, desperation creeping into his voice as he muttered to himself. With a sense of urgency, Bran turned his attention to the bookcase, the faint sound of books being shifted and becoming more pronounced. Despite his efforts, he couldn't find anything. The room grew even more tense, the silence heavy with unspoken frustration.
Bran's gaze finally fell upon one of the side tables, its surface cluttered with advertisements and magazines. He started sifting through the stack, his movements quick and haphazard. Samuel could see the realization dawning on Bran's face - he hadn't read the instructions at all.
Bran muttered something under his breath as he skimmed through the dressing change instructions, the wound care instructions, and the instructions on how to make an antibiotic.
Samuel's gaze shifted to a bag in the room's corner, filled with supplies he had given Bran. Damon, silently observant, padded over and picked up the bag. The rustling of bandages and the clinking of antibiotic concentrate filled the air as Damon discreetly took a few bandages and slipped them into his pocket.
Oblivious to Damon's voice's tension, Bran offered an innocent explanation. "That epidemic of yours has kept me busy, with everyone blaming each other," he said defensively. "I'm not a doctor. Besides, we have our own medbay and supplies that I've used."
Damon's voice turned steelier as he spoke. "Let's see Mimi," he said, his tone laced with a hint of authority. "Now you can show me how well you've been looking after her."
Unaware of the underlying tension, Bran nodded and left his office, heading towards Mimi's room.
As they walked, Bran shared his frustrations. "Miss has been pretty damn impossible," he complained. "I've had to take her out of the air duct and off the shelves several times. And I got rid of the plugs in the bathroom. The fever medicine is running low, by the way. It seems to go faster when her fever doesn't go down."
The men fell silent, the weight of their unspoken worries hanging heavily in the air. Bran went and opened the door. Mimi wasn't in bed again. He felt his irritation growing. He still wasn't ready to stop eating bugs when they were so easy and cheap.
Damon said softly. " Is Mimi invisible, or where the fuck is she? "
Bran grunted and shook his head. He looked under the bed, nothing. He opened the bathroom door. He had locked it, but Mimi had wrenched the latch open. Mimi was lying on her side. She was soaked and had pulled one of the floor rags around her. The shower was still dripping water, and Bran was irritated by unnecessary water consumption, too. Bran sighed and went to pick Mimi up again from the top of the floor for the umpteenth time.
I lay on the cold, tiled bathroom floor, my body wrapped tightly in a damp towel. The sound of footsteps approached, growing louder and more frantic. Damon and Bran, Adam and Samuel, all filled with agitation. Damon entered the room, his voice dripping with silkiness, though I couldn't make out his words.
The bathroom door creaked open, and Bran hurried over to me, his frustration clear in his voice as he pleaded, "Again, come back to bed. What the hell have you done now? Oh my god, you're impossible. You've wet yourself. Well, at least your fever might subside because of it."
Bran seemed oblivious to Damon's grumpiness and Samuel's stillness. Adam, however, stood motionless, his body on the verge of exploding, yet restraining himself through sheer willpower.
Bran leaped over me and shut the shower; the sound of dripping water fell silent. He came next to me abruptly, pulling the towel from my shivering body. He hoisted me up, dragging me towards the drenched mattress.
Damon leaned nonchalantly against the door, his fingers subtly twitching as he fought to maintain control. With no regard for cleanliness, Bran laid me on the filthy, wet bed, neglecting to provide me with a fresh sheet.
He said, "You are running a fever, no sheet, you need to cool down. Let's put some more of this medicine if this helps even a bit. You really should stay in bed and not be a brat who doesn't obey; I have my life to manage; I am not some fucking nursemaid for you."
He reconnected the intravenous drip, turning the flow to its maximum, and turned to face the men. From a nearby shelf, he retrieved some dressings, their sterility questionable, and with bare hands, he partially removed the top dressing of my wound, unaware of their bloodstained and putrid odor. Or then he just didn't care. He applied the new dressings, securing them in place with tape.
The fever medication drained my energy, causing sweat to bead on my forehead. I felt utterly powerless, completely at the mercy of the situation.
"Now that the lady's back in bed, we can finally eat," Bran declared.
Damon, Adam and Samuel were silent,. They didn't move, and Samuel saw what a huge mistake he had made in letting Bran take care of Mimi. Bran went into the bathroom, scolded Mimi, tore the towel off of her, and muttered something about wasting water.
Samuel, Damon, and Adam stood in horror as they entered the bathroom. The sight of Mimi, a living skeleton lying powerless on the hard floor, was a chilling and distressing sight. Her body was covered in bruises, and strong tape was wrapped tightly around her, holding the dressings in place. The room was damp, and the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood. Each man could smell the pungent odor of infection, a sickly and foul stench that lingered in the air.
In a sudden burst of violence, Bran grabbed Mimi forcefully. Damon's eyes widened as he saw the evidence of abuse on her body. - finger and palm bruises marred her fragile frame. Despite his anger, Damon restrained himself, determined to see this through to the end.
Bran pulled Mimi up, forcing her to walk towards her bed. The bed was wet and dirty and emitted a repulsive odor. With a callous disregard, Bran threw Mimi onto the bed, causing her frail body to shudder in pain. Damon's experienced eye glimpsed an unprotected IV tube. It had been left exposed for an unknown length of time so that it would be dirty.
He saw medicine in the bag, now cloudy, full floating of little bits, telling him that fever med was no good anymore. The entire system should be replaced with a sterile one. Damon could see how irritated and red Mimi's shoulder and neck were, a sign of yet another infection.
Samuel's face contorted with disbelief and rage. He couldn't fathom how Bran could be so callous and devoid of any sense. Samuel's gaze drifted towards Mimi's bulging stomach, a clear sign her intestines were in critical condition. There was no doubt in his mind - Mimi was in a dire state.
Gasping for breath, Mimi was weak and unable even to tremble. Amidst her suffering, Samuel overheard Bran mutter something about a fever. He heard how Bran berated Mimi, telling her to stop being a brat; Samuel was also getting rather angry with his father. He felt his hands tighten into fists, and he continued to witness the abuse that he had subjected Mimi to.
As Bran moved to gather the blankets and sheets away from the bed, preventing Mimi from covering herself, Samuel's attention shifted to Salvatore. Salvatore was prepared for something, his stance alert and ready.
When Bran suggested it was time to eat, Samuel observed a change in Salvatore's demeanor. He straightened up, his footsteps deliberate as he closed the distance towards Bran. His voice, silky soft yet incredibly dangerous, filled the room. The air was thick with tension.
"Mimi hasn't been washed," Salvatore whispered, his words dripping with disdain. "She is sweaty, dirty, and miserable. Is that any way to treat a sick woman, Bran? That wound hasn't been looked at. That dressing has been wet more than once. Mim hurts. She's not feeling well."
Damon's voice cut through the air, clear and low, seething with fury. He fought to control himself, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. Moving closer, he cast a contemptuous gaze at Bran's supplies on the table. His voice oozed with menace, danger, and fury.
"Those gauze dressings are not sterile," Damon hissed. "You do not know cleanliness. You just put a very contaminated drip on Mimi's cannula, which was also not protected. Do you realize the cannula leads inside Mimi? It's a gateway for germs. Do you see how red Mimi's neck and shoulder are? There is additional infection here, brought by you and your dirty fingers."
He approached the drip stand, his eyes narrowing as he examined the cloudy bag of drugs. The once-useful liquid is now rendered useless.
"This medicine has gone bad. It's not working. It is cloudy and full of these floating bits, useless trash pouring into Mimi. Those tapes around Mimi, well, that's another way to torture. Her skin is very thin. You have probably torn it quite a few times, haven't you? Have you noticed that Mimi's belly is swollen and tight? When there's a mass of your bug smoothies, it won't digest on Mimi. I have studied all forms of nutrition, including insects, which are one of Mimi's poorest sources of nutrition. Mimi is sick, she needs care, you have to be careful when she's so miserably thin. She is not doing this just for fun. She is really ill and has no control, so you don't berate someone sick, do you?"
Damon's voice remained menacing, filling the dank room. With each step, he took closer to Bran, a wave of fear washed over him. Bran could sense the ancient power emanating from Damon, his telepathic abilities on the brink of unraveling.
"Just because she has a fever doesn't give you the right not to give her a blanket or not to wash her," Damon growled. "She is covered in bruises, palm, and finger marks from being ragged and bruised by you. Now, I'm taking Mimi elsewhere for my care right now. Samuel, think twice about who you trust to look after Mimi next time."
Samuel was silent. He said, " It's become obvious that my father is an idiot, a moron. I am so sorry. I didn't realize he was so incompetent. When Mimi was just sleeping and really easy to take care of."
Damon came up to me and removed the drip. He was as furious as can be. His hands were shaking.
He said, "Poor baby. I'm taking you to California now, and I'll fix you up there. It'll take a while to drive, but I'll see if I can make you feel any better. "
He went to the closet and got a couple of blankets, brought them over to the bed, and wrapped me in them.
He said, "Just a little bit of softness. Poor baby, I should have come earlier."
Damon picked me up, put me in Samuel's arms, and said dangerously, " How many kilos has Mimi lost in this fortnight, Samuel? Don't be fucking lazy and go off to investigate some fun epidemic if one of the pack is sick. Bran is apparently not the nursing type at all, as I said. Maybe next time you'll think twice before you separate us. Follow me, and I'll make Mimi at least a little more comfortable. And don't worry if she shakes. It's nothing but a fever! It is as if Mimi can shake!!!"
Samuel said nothing as he held me in his arms. I could feel his rage against his father and also his rage and disappointment in himself as a doctor. Oh, that Damon was really cranky. What I found strange was that Mimosa could still be detached from me and walk, close to Damon and Adam. Adam came over and stroked my forehead, unable to say anything yet.
Damon led Samuel into the other room and said, "This will do for a moment; put her down on the bed over there."
Damon turned to me and said, " Now, baby, you first need a proper bath. The water will feel cold then because you have a fever so damn high, but it will clean you up when I wash you. Then I'm going to look at your wound and give you more teeth substances because I've got a hell of a lot of pressure on my head already. Okay?"
I nodded, and it made pain hammers punch through my spine.
I complained out loud, and Damon asked. "Where does it hurt?"
I said, "My neck is really sore. That nod was not a good thing to do, apparently."
Samuel came over to me and put his hand on my neck and felt. He looked at Damon, and he also came to feel. He was extremely gentle, and yet I was still whimpering when he seemed to find the tender spots. The rage of both men seemed to grow again. Damon crouched down beside the bed and looked at me, his voice gentle and even as he explained.
He looked at me and said, "Your neck has been broken several times, and it hasn't ossified properly. Now, your neck is weak and can break if you move the wrong way. This is something we just have to consider. Don't panic. Samuel will get you one of our neck braces to let us take care of you a little."
He grabbed both sides of my head and supported me so I didn't accidentally move.
I said, "Well, it wouldn't matter; at least I wouldn't feel so bad. "
Damon said, " Look, baby, your recovery rate is pretty much non-existent, so I will not risk you being lifeless for long. I don't want you in that condition; like a century now, you've got to have a pulse and breathing. "
I laughed. Damon held my head still while Samuel brought one of the neck supports and slipped it around my neck. It wasn't comfortable, but it kept my neck from breaking all by itself. Samuel then started taking the tapes off, at least some of them.
Adam came over to Damon and asked, "What do you need? What can I get you?"
Damon grunted and said, "Go get that bag from Bran's study now at first, there is something, and then get as many sterile dressings as if they are valid from medbay, and some disinfectants too. "
Adam nodded. He and Mimosa walked briskly to get the supplies needed.
Samuel said to me, he was genuinely sorry, "I'm so damn sorry, I'm not perfect either, I get distracted now and then, and then you poor thing suffer."
I couldn't speak because I was so damn cold. Damon disappeared briefly to draw a bath, the sound of running water echoing through the room. When he returned, he slipped on a pair of gloves and carefully removed as many dressings from my wound as possible.
With a gentle touch, he explained his plan to cover it temporarily to ease the pain when the water made contact. He produced a peculiar membrane-like bandage from his pocket, delicately peeling off some tapes to protect my fragile skin. The scent of his passionfruit fragrance enveloped me, providing a comforting solace, as if signaling the end of a harrowing nightmare.
Grunting softly, he assured me, "Now that should do it. Next, it's time for a baby bath."
Lifting me ever so gently into his arms, he warned of the chilling nature of the water, set at 38 degrees Celsius. As it cascaded over me, the sensation felt icy, though I gradually adjusted. Damon washed me meticulously, primarily using water. He had meticulously examined all the washing-up liquid options, eventually finding one that he diluted significantly.
He bit my wrist, grew my hair really long, and cut off all the dirty stuff. He had washed my scalp thoroughly as well. He wrapped my hair in a towel, and then he lifted me out of the bath and put me on a towel on the bed. Damon said little. I heard shouting and arguing and recognized Adam and Charles loudly, and Bran, too. Apparently, Hauptman was voicing his opinion.
Samuel was drying me out when Damon went to sit on the couch for a moment. I saw that Samuel had brought jars into which Damon was apparently pouring black velvet, and lots of it, and thick. When the flow of velvet had ceased, he sighed and stood up. The jars were big, and there were many of them, and they were full. He came to me while Samuel gently patted me dry and took the tapes off where he could.
Damon said, " Now, baby, let's have a look at this wound. I'll give you a good dose of velvet first, then I can't promise where you'll wake up. But for now, I'm not going anywhere. Now you're gonna be all right."
He took off my neck brace and sank his teeth into my neck. A sharp, hot pain pierced my neck, but it was only for when I felt the velvet flow, and sleep took its place. Finally, I could rest.