Chapter 362 - 1. Mad World.

During world-saving missions in Europe, there is little time to ponder anything other than the task at hand. The work consumes every thought, whether it involves eliminating a target or engaging in a brutal fight club. The air is filled with a sense of urgency and determination.

As I delve into the world of sabotage and unraveling mysteries, I am accompanied by Faes and my loyal fleas. Together, we navigate through challenges, each one a new puzzle to solve. Once a trusted ally, Higgins guides them with her knowledge, revealing the objectives that await us at every turn. The mysteries unfold before our eyes, and Faes prove to be quick learners, effortlessly showcasing their own brand of magic and captivating performances.

In the fight clubs, my rage takes center stage. Each match is a life-or-death battle, where defeat is not an option. The atmosphere is charged with adrenaline and the stench of sweat and blood. The stakes are high, and I cannot afford to falter. Those who stand in my way to meet their demise, all for the sake of the lucrative prize. I must embrace my inner ruthlessness, a trait unearthed by Charles, the only way I can survive.

Amidst the chaos, I am reminded of Damon, the one who once mended and cared for me. But he has chosen another path, leaving me uncertain of their future, perhaps even expecting a child. I must suppress my emotions, burying them beneath a facade of rage to endure. Yet, deep within my soul, a profound emptiness lingers, as if a part of me is missing, my biological half.

Adam and the men remain occupied with their duties, and their constant busyness reminds us of our reality. Gradually, my need to react diminished, replaced by an intense focus and unwavering self-control. I am wholly absorbed in the present moment, disregarding thoughts of future joys or seeking revenge against Burt and the others.

No, I could not distract myself, as I had to be a ruthless killing machine, the soulless beast whose only goal was to kill the opponent as fast as possible. It changed something inside; I do not know what, but it changed me, hardened me, and made my shield a little thicker once again.

I learned to show something else and feel wholly differently, not showing no one how I felt. I used my pretender side, and it helped. Once again, I had to take the hit that others could not; I had to sacrifice my needs and my life in order to save the world—and my health, too.

Do you think a creature like me would have gotten pretty bored being in rough shape and would have done anything to keep herself in shape? But I was saving the world. That was what mattered, not my health, my well-being, or even my life. I ate when I remembered and again when two-thirds of the gig was gone. Didn't Bran have to have another poisoning to make me act like a Marrok again on top of everything else? 

Being marrok in the middle of a freaking hard world-saving mission is difficult. I couldn't ignore the werewolf pleas, and Mimosa stepped up and tried to control most of the problems. But I was too needed. I had to prevent different wars that came to borders, female heat, and such. When they noticed I was Marrok, it was funny how all the problems with females' heat went away. They were not talking about them to me. It was a wise decision, as I would have given them quite a long lecture on what it is to be female in heat. 

When I first went to the jungle in Borneo, I thought I was not up to it. I weighed 35 kilos. I got several snakebites in the jungle, some more poisonous than others. A couple of poisonous plants hit my skin, and I got lovely rotten wounds on my leg. I always covered them up and waited for them to heal.

As I navigated through the Borneo, I encountered an array of bugs and critters, each more peculiar than the last. I had to rely on my hunting skills to survive, and on some occasions, I had no choice but to consume whatever I had caught.

I vividly remember the time when I captured a big python or anaconda - the thrill of the hunt, the rush of adrenaline, and the satisfaction of a successful catch. The meat was not the most tender or juicy, but it was surprisingly delicious. I experimented with a few herbs to season it, and the flavors blended beautifully.

As I roasted pieces of the snake over the fire, the aroma wafted through the air, and I could feel my mouth watering in anticipation. My loyal wolf, Mimosa, was always by my side, and she, too, savored the taste of the snake. Despite my success as a hunter, Mimosa was an adept hunter herself and often brought her own game to the table.

 Next up was Madagascar. The island of Madagascar is known for its unique and diverse ecosystem, but it can also be incredibly challenging for those searching for specific vegetation. During my time there, I found that locating the plants I needed proved to be an arduous task. Many times, I was forced to climb high into a tree to retrieve a seemingly insignificant plant that was actually crucial to my research. The effort required to collect each plant was immense, as the trees were tall and the foliage was thick and tangled. 

To make matters worse, the jungles of Madagascar are vast and difficult to navigate. My companion, Mimosa, did her best to scout the area quickly and efficiently, but it was daunting. We had to be careful not to get lost or injured in the dense vegetation, and the danger of encountering wildlife was always present. Despite these challenges, we persevered, driven by a passion for our work and a desire to succeed.

As we traveled through the wilderness, a venomous snake that attacked my wolf, Mimosa, interrupted our journey. With no time to lose, I had to use my teeth to extract the poison from her wound. It was a difficult and painful task, but with the help of my molecular storage, I could neutralize the venom after a long week of intensive work.

Despite the challenges, we continued our journey to the Amazon, driven by our quest to find rare plants and flowers that were only in bloom for a fleeting moment. We pushed through the pain and exhaustion, determined to reach our destination with no setbacks.

Our unbreakable spirit and unwavering determination kept us going, even when we were at our weakest. And finally, after much perseverance, we emerged victorious, having completed our mission and collected the precious specimens we had sought after for so long.

Amazon was the worst because there was an element of water, and I was in such a rough shape already. But I carried on. We found one plant after another, ate some snakes, a few monkeys even, and ate a rare treat: a capybara, a mimosa. We just loved those. 

The Amazon was the last one. My feet healed somewhat, with only a few nasty sores left, and the poisons disappeared relatively quickly, or they were chopped enough not to cause so much damage. At the end of the world-saving mission, I weighed 26 kilos when I delivered the plants to Dresden.

The gig had taken another year. The mafias were under control, and the fight clubs were done. Once again, I had saved the world. And I had been divorced from Damon for over a year and a half already. 

After a long and tiresome world-saving tour, I desperately needed some well-deserved rest. Feeling utterly exhausted, I called my dear friend Flea, who, without hesitation, promised to come and fly me to Oklahoma for some much-needed recovery time. As I waited for Flea to arrive, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the kind and selfless gesture that she had made. Despite my current state, I wasn't even thinking about my situation or my health; all I could focus on was the anticipation of finally being able to rest and recharge.

Upon arriving at my house in Oklahoma, I couldn't help but notice how the dark blue building stood out in the middle of nowhere. I had driven there by myself, and the journey had left me feeling completely drained. As I approached the house, I realized that the steep stairs leading up to the front door would be a challenge. Despite my exhaustion, I summoned the last of my strength and made my way up the stairs. 

Although I had been to this house before, I couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness as I entered. My pack or Adam had never been here, and I missed their company. However, I was relieved to see that the top-notch medbay I had installed was still there. 

As I made my way to the bedroom, all I could think about was a soft, warm bed and some sleep. The thought of finally being able to rest after such a tiring journey was a welcome relief.

I went to sleep and woke up 12 hours later with a headache and feeling sick and cold. Coughing, nose full, breathless. Oh great, I'd caught the flu after all, when my body simply couldn't fight it off any longer. My breathing was not very efficient and every time I tried to breathe more deeply, I would get a huge fit of coughing, and end up throwing up. 

I put a message in my pack email: "Europe gig over—under the weather. I caught the flu, which I will try to eliminate. I'm in Oklahoma. Cheers, Mimi."

We kind of had a rule to let them know when the gig was over so that if they needed help, the carers would know to come.

Adam posted a message: " I, Samuel, and Colin were in Bulgaria fighting with the pharmaceutical company. They may take a while. I hope you are okay. Bran had recovered and was putting Marrok's things in order, with Charles, Dresden, and Constantine chasing Nicodemus and coins. Magnum was in Australia, blasting away." 

Fine by me. I can manage. It is just going to take some time and a lot. I didn't ask any of the fleas to come and help first reason was I did not know can humans get this bug, and if a bug got me in this shape, it could be dangerous for humans, and second I was a goddamn invincible leader, the strong immortal flea. Not a thin, frail creature wrapped in several blankets and quilts, trembling and throwing up. 

Fine, I'll be fine. Mimosa was in my mind, too. We slept on the couch because I couldn't go any further. This was quite a nice sofa, and I had given Adam the address of this house if he got free. 

I had everything I needed: a throw-up bag, a phone, and a blanket. Nothing tasted good, and I couldn't even think about going to medbay. I knew my body would eventually overcome this. I didn't want to think of any medical procedure as my time with Sark had left its scars on me. Literally, I had scars on my skin and in my soul, meaning I was not receptive to medical treatment. I slept deep and hadn't even thought about possible hibernation or multiple enzymes. 

I had the right to sleep. I had done my duty and hell, I could sleep the next six months with no worries. I was immortal. Time was something that I had and a lot.

Someone tried to wake me up. "Mimi, come on. Come on, baby. Come on. Come on, Mimi. Come on, wake up."

Damon's voice was quite urgent, insisting that I had to open my eyes. I was tired, in pain, sick and this had to pull me out from there, where I felt nothing.

He said, "Come on, wake up for me. Good girl. You are in rough shape, aren't you?" 

What the fuck is Judas doing here? That was my first thought. In answer to his question, I coughed for a long time and then threw up a slimy, bloody phlegm. Damon supported me and murmured something. I could hear clearly a worried undertone. I felt him pick me up in his arms and curse under his breath softly. I guess I was a little light and bony.

He carried me to the medbay and started looking for a vein to cannulate. He tapped my elbow and felt my neck. No luck. He tried to unwrap me as if to see my whole situation, but I had a fever. I didn't let him take my blankets. I snarled and hissed as well. I coughed some more.

Damon said, " Mimi, I need to put a cannula directly into your heart. You're in such bloody terrible shape. I'll explain everything, but I can already tell you that Petra and her father are dead. "

Damon's voice carried a cutting edge when he mentioned the word Petra. Has there been a wrinkle in the love at some point? Damon took the blanket off me, and I fought back the whole time because I wasn't properly conscious. I was cold, and someone was trying to bully me. I coughed as long as it took, and again, I threw up. 

Damon said, "Fine, Mimi, I'm going to put you on a sedative first. You're probably already asleep on its strength, but I'll try to keep it relatively light. "

I felt a moment later, someone stabbed me in the heart. No, in the lungs, the flank, really? That was the last thought I had for a while again.

I woke up again when Damon woke me up. I opened my eyes. Damon sat on the edge of the bed and stroked my hair away from my forehead. I was in bed, half sitting, and I couldn't breathe; I was too tired to cough, and it felt like I had a wet blanket on my face; no air went in.

His voice was gentle yet commanding, as if he would have to indulge me to this point and not anymore." Baby, now I gotta go take care of you a little more efficiently, you know? Now, you can't just sit back and wait for your body to get rid of the bug. First, those full and sore lungs are your fourth. I've already cut three of them out, so we'll start respiratory therapy."

He helped me sit as I tried to cough and said, "Not to worry. I am immune to this bug. This was one of Petra's father's bugs. Nasty thing, but I am here now, and I will make you better." 

I panted, powerless against his chest, and then he lay me back in bed. And he explained some more.

"The teeth make the stuff you get in your lungs like a fine mist you breathe in. I know it's panic-inducing, but I will keep you calm. First, I have to give you a muscle stimulant in your diaphragm and rib cage so that you breathe and don't hold your breath instinctively. Now, this is really unpleasant at first because your lungs are so sick, and this stimulant forces you to breathe, but after, you're sedated, and you may not remember much of this. That's a CPAP machine, and that helps. My tooth stuff helps. You do this every 12 hours or every 24 hours. Depending on the response. We gotta get you a little better so I can get something in you."

I felt pricks in my ribs and diaphragm and then a fair amount of flanks. I felt Damon lift me into a sitting position, sit behind me himself, put my head in a face mask like this, and tie it on the back of my neck. Now and then, a flank. He supported me and put the device on. The device was forcing air into my lungs, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. I had to breathe anyway. It was awful. 

It was exhausting. The panic tried to force its way through the flank, and it seemed like he gave me a stronger drug at some point because the next thing I remember was waking up in bed.

I was a little more lucid and maybe stronger, too. By now, I had a central line. I remembered I had had respiratory therapy quite a few times, and I thought about how long I'd been here. This was supposed to be just the flu. I looked next to me, and Damon was asleep in the chair.

I must have been pretty demanding because exhausting Salvatore is difficult. I put the side of the bed down, disconnected all the tubes, as I was already fine, and went for a walk.

I ended up in a heap on the floor, which woke Damon, who at first cursed where I'd gone and then came and lifted me back to the bed, put the tubes in place, re-cannulated me, and said, "Don't start this again, Mimi. This has been hard enough without this. I don't mind keeping you asleep all the time, but if this goes on, baby, I can't take it. I'm going to put you under very deep anesthesia until you are well and able to walk."

I tried to look all innocent and said, "Thanks for fixing me up. Really. I just don't enjoy being this weak and fragile. You know me. "

Damon sighed, lifted the side of the bed up, and said, "Someday, baby, someday I'm going to make a bed that you won't escape from."

I looked innocent again and said, "Are you going to put a lid on it or shackles?"

Damon looked at me for a moment and walked away. I sighed. I was still exhausted, and now I was getting cold, so I had a fever. Great. Damon came back, put me in restraints, and smiled happily. He felt my forehead, got a ready-made drip bag from one table, and filled it up. The fever went down, but I got tired and eventually fell asleep.

When I woke up, I was in my bed, and on the bedside table was a phone, wallet, and jewelry box. I did not know how long it had been. I was in better shape and healthy again.

I took the box. It had a message on it: "Will you marry me again, darling? Let's have as lovely a wedding as last time. Damon."