I woke up in Moldovan Castle all medicated, and it took me a while to understand what had happened. I had been divorced. I was no longer in the pack; my every marriage was over, and I had half of our property around. I remembered the connection, the feeling, and now this, my soul was crushed into a small black ball.
Damon had left a letter. It had been typed by a computer, not even handwritten. "Mimi, that connection was too much, and I can't be with you. I don't feel the same as you. It is just not right for me to be with you. None of us can be. We divorced you, and you are no longer in the pack. You can't go anywhere in the pack house or the magic house. You can't win, so don't even try to stop me.
I don't want you anymore, just like no one, not even Adam or Charles. They reconnected with the wolves and are now with them. Don't make me or this pack your enemy, or you will regret it. I mean every word in this letter. This is the end of us if there ever was us. I don't consider you even as my vampire wife anymore and I will inform everyone about this. Goodbye for good. Damon Salvatore. P.S. You are no longer entitled to the last name Salvatore, so pick a new one."
Fine, or this kind of time. It would take me time and nerves. The one fucking time I surrender, I enjoy it, then I have to ruin everything, everything, and here's the consequence. Well then, let the settling into my new life begin.
First, I planned. I drank for a week, booze as strong as I could stand. I wallowed in self-pity, cried, and raved. I could not go on. I had felt a lot of feelings over the years, but nothing like this. Pain what comes when a bunch of true soulmate bonds are ripped violently out of your soul was just too much for me to bear. I had been through some serious shit in my life, but nothing was like this.
I did not want to exist anymore. I ordered a heavy-duty iron coffin, then I had here lots of different things that I needed. I knew how to make myself powerless, stopping my existence. It had been one of my backup plan as I knew myself, just how powerful creature I am and if I would ever corrupt by darkness inside me too far, I had planned this beforehand. I sat in the living room. Bottle of tequila in my hand. Or some stronger stuff. Raw alcohol, more or less. I knew it was not good for me, but I was weakening myself first.
On the table, in front of me was a syringe. In that syringe had thistle, dandelion, few other very nasty herbs for me, and the strongest vervain extract I could get. Another syringe had tomato extract, coriander extract, and holy water, too. I had also a blood collection machine ready; it had been calibrated to draw a lot of blood out of me. There was a cannula on the table, and one more syringe, filled with the strongest, most potent sedatives that I could find, and a big overdose of them too.
My plan was, when I got the courage, to poison myself, draw as much blood out of me as possible, and then go into the coffin to desiccate forever, to be in a state where it doesn't feel like my heart was torn out of my chest repeatedly. I had everything in place, but I just had not yet the courage to do it. I would be in no danger to anyone.
First, I would cannulate myself hook up the blood collection, then I would go into the coffin, take at first the vervain syringe, then the poison syringe, and last sedatives, the lid would close on its own and no one would be wiser about me, I would be dead, more or less, desiccated, in hibernation or somewhere in between but in the state where I would not feel a thing, I just could not go on. This feeling was too bad. My emotions, were burning in my mind. This pain, ripping my soul apart was way too much and there was nothing to go on.
World did not need me, or if it did, fuck it. I don't care. I am tired of being selfless, sacrificing everything for the sake of shit. I have done enough for the world. It was time for someone else to bear the torch, so to speak.
I woke up from time to time after I had drunk myself into a stupor. Time did not matter, nothing did. I took a long drag from the bottle of pure alcohol, feeling it burning inside me, but it was nothing compared to that pain that tore me apart minute after minute. I told myself that I was weakening myself, poisoning for a little beforehand, as alcohol is not good for me, not at all. I tried to make myself act, to end this pain. It would be so easy, I would fall asleep. That's it. I would just give up, let it go, no more.
I drank some more. Then I again took the first syringe in my hand. I had a cannula too reserved. I had the mirror and my hands were more or less steady. I touched my neck, as to assess where to put the cannula. I had also made a will, that all of my assets and money would go to my children and cubs to other realms, but not Damon or pack, just my offspring. I still had my prenup more or less valid. I had written it and I would order the Courier to come and empty my sent box three months after I would have done my thing.
I put the syringe onto the table and took my bottle. Soon I was ready. I just couldn't take this much more. I drank a big gulp, feeling the alcohol blurring my mind, but not my heart. Not yet. Soon, not for long anymore.
I was a little surprised when I heard someone say, "Listen to me, flea, you are not gonna do this. You are better than this. I will be upset if you quit."
Its voice sounded familiar, then I noticed a very faint apparition before me. I thought I was pretty drunk because that looked like Jake. He was faint, but he looked still the same. He was standing in front of me, looking at me like he used to look when he was worried about me. His expression was firm as ever. He looked like he would come soon and take this bottle out of my hand like he once did. Long fucking time ago.
He was kind of transparent, and I congratulated myself for my excellent imagination in conjuring a ghost in front of me. Who is next, Brutus, or Rob, Sapphire? There were so many who I had lost, so freaking many. I would deserve this, that they would haunt me, telling me what weakling I am, quitter, loser. Nothing. Too fucking weak to end this.
I muttered to myself. " I killed you too, lost you too. I was too kind, not to order you to protect yourself. Go away. Haven't I suffered enough? Now I see dead people too. "
My voice was slurring. I was not sure what I was saying. My mouth did not obey so well.
Now I took a syringe full of narcotics. A good overdose would end my suffering for quite a long time, even if I would not be in that coffin. I would probably lose my straps. I had crystal ready where to go or then I would hibernate. I cursed to salvatore when he had made it impossible for me to make that cocoon anymore. Hibernation would be a good option too, not to be awake.
Apparition grouched in front of me, sighed, and said, "Come on, Mimi, this isn't you. You are in a terrible place and I can't help you as much as I would want to. Fine, but I will get you some help. You are not gonna do this. Hang in there."
Then it disappeared. I put the syringe onto the table. And drank some more. Slowly, my consciousness started to fade again. It was only a good thing the pain was a little less. I just hoped that it would be so easy not to wake up ever again. Maybe I should just drink those drugs, go get jars and drink them all.
Why do I have to be so weak and not do it? A few injections and this would be all gone. I would be gone, not in this torture anymore. A few more long drags and my mind shut down again as I passed out. Merciful darkness took me with it.
The next thing I felt was someone touching me. Someone was shaking me, slapping my face, trying to wake me up. This was quite damn insisted whoever this was. I was angry; I had been in a place where I would have to feel anything.
The sound that sounded a little familiar but not too, said to me. "My unicorn, I am so sorry. I will help. You will get through this. You are better than this. Come on the unicorn, wake up, not, you are not gonna kill yourself, well you are immortal but this is the closest to that you could do."
I slowly opened my eyes. My vision was blurry, I tried to see. I was still drunk, but not enough. More booze was needed. I tried to find my bottle, but my hand did not hit it. I got my eyes a little more open. Wulfe? His hair was blonde, his brows dark, as were his eyelashes and eyes, and he had a tee shirt and jeans; he looked like goddamn teen. He was anything but. He had helped me in the past, given me hints on how to get rid of Damien, but he had done a few not-so-nice things, too. I wanted to pass back out.
Teen vampire wizard was crouched in front of me. He had taken my bottles and my syringes. He had moved them onto another table, and he looked at me with his brow furrowed, trying to get me awake. Now I did not need any more riddles, but oblivion. I wanted to end this. Not hear his mysterious riddles.
I said, "Let me go, let me do it, or can you do it? I can't. I just can't... Please end this. Let me go away, not to feel this. I can't... I don't want to exist...." Not sure what my mouth actually said as I was drunk as a skunk.
I cried, a tired, desperate cry, and I handed him the letter. It was next to me to remind me what had happened. It was a little messy, stained by booze and my tears as well. So I would never forget.
He read it and tried to comfort me.
He said. "Shh.. unicorn, I am here, I am here, he told me to come, and I came... shh... I was worthy of you. Oh my god, I was worthy of you, and I prove it.."
He hugged me. I have no idea how long I cried against him. He stroked my hair, my back. I was desolate, crying and sobbing, drunk as a skunk. Desperate to end this. Then I passed out again when he muttered something.
Wulfe looked sleeping woman. He had once almost loved Mercy, and then Stefan Ufficello had taken her. Mercy had been running away from Adam to see Stefan when she had died. Now his unicorn, this wonderful creature who he had tormented in the past, was in a terrible place and Wulfe somehow knew that he was needed.
He had tried to make up his sins in the past so he could be the one who was needed and, as a ghost, had come to him; he knew he had redeemed himself and he felt his soul first time in few millennia's. He did help his unicorn as he had seen the first signs that he could turn into good again. He had helped as much as he could.
He had now purpose, to help his unicorn, to get her through this, to see once again this wonderful creature being the untamed powerful force of nature. No one could ever tame his unicorn. He knew that the future had taken a certain direction and if he looked signs correctly, he would stand with her at least a few millennia, guarding and protecting her.
Wulfe was a little out of his comfort zone, but as the ghost came to seek his help, he came and found his unicorn in deep distress, ready to end her existence. Wulfe had gotten her under a sleeping spell, but that was not the answer. Time would help, but he would need others as well. The unicorn needed her friends. The ghost had a strong connection to his unicorn because Wulfe knew ghosts needed powerful feelings to project themselves; they weren't anything residual energy but souls that had moved on. It had had a connection to this woman and a soul or ghost could come to him to seek help for the one he had truly loved.
This man had been in love with his unicorn, in all the time that he had been in fleas. Even though he had had family and children, Mimi had been the one he had loved. That kind of love is a strong feeling, and it had enabled this ghost to come and help her, by telling him that his unicorn was about to kill herself, more or less. There had been another ghost for her too. In the past it had helped her, to hear truths, giving the pack a lesson, or several that had felt a long time.
Now it was time for a living to help her and the ghost had gone once it had seen that he helped her, put her to sleep, and thought about what to do. He would not tell about this to the unicorn. If she had asked, he would not tell her about the ghost. Not at all. Wulfe knew Magnum and a few of Mimi's friends too. He had tried to help Mimi in the past, and kept his eye on her, so he knew her friends, someone he could contact and explain this.
He called Magnum and told him the situation. He told them about syringes and everything. Magnum was shocked. He promised to get a few more people with him and they would fly as soon as possible to see Mimi in Moldova. Wulfe kept feeding power into a sleeping spell, smiling slightly as his unicorn unconsciously tried to fight him. She was strong, even in her desperation. He could not give her good dreams, but keep her out of it.
When Magnum, Murdock, and Dexter arrived, Wulfe showed them the coffin, the poisons, and the letter. Magnum was furious. He truly was. But it was now clear on which side he would be. Alaric had been upset too, and he was also on Mimi's side. Damon had not kept contact with him, but Mimi had and his loyalty was to Mimi. Magnum loved Mimi almost more than he loved Higgins. They had been in bed several times in the past but now was that time yet.
Magnum and men cleared coffin and poisons out and booze too. Magnum told Wulfe how Mimi had drunk heavily after Brutus had died. Wulfe told them about the ghost who had urged him to come here. He did not identify the ghost. He did not tell them much about ghosts in the first place and he could see that Magnum was not believing in ghosts, all the better.
Men started to put things in castle order and soon it would be safe to let Mimi wake up. Magnum had called for a little more help. Everything dangerous was cleared away and medbay and drugs were now under Wulfe's spell. Magnum looked at the sleeping Mimi. She would have one hell of a hangover, and Colin had also come there to help her. He was also terrified about Mimi's plan, but he understood something about that caliber of heartbreak. It had almost once ended him, too.
Colin had very deep feelings for her. his leprechaun loved his goddess, and he was shocked by her pain. Leprechaun feels very well emotions around him and this raw pain that was all over this castle had been almost too much, but Wulfe had cleared emotions with a few spells and crystals, sucked those feelings of desperation and pain into crystals.
This would not be easy for Mimi, but they would be here for her. Every step of the way. He had locked the medbay, and all the drug cabinets and everyone was aware of Mimi's desperation so she would be under watch until it became clear that the urge to end her existence had passed.
Wulfe's spells made sure that if she even would break those locks, she would get nothing. Wulfe had even made a temporary bubble around the castle, and gotten rid of every single dangerous plant on the lawn, so there was no chance for her to poison herself.
I woke up, and I was in the shower. I was naked and several people were washing me; I tried to open my eyes, but a light hit them and made me wince. Nausea welled up and my stomach turned upside down. I puked violently and someone just helped me; I groaned as someone continued to wash my hair. I had been in this state before. Few times at least. I do remember that over a three-week hangover and mere memory made me start to cry.
I was not sure who the hell had ordered some kind of washing service and I felt too awful to be able to understand opening my eyes at all or use any of my senses to get the idea where I am and who are these people washing me. I did not want to exist, and I had no idea why I was being punished.
I puked several times and someone eventually when I was washed what had felt like a million years, wrapped me in the towel and carried me to bed. It felt good to be clean. I felt an injection in my arm and nausea eased as my consciousness began to fade.
I woke up several times; I felt awful; I was in my medbay. Colin was there, like Magnum, Murdock, Dexter, and Wulfe. I remembered something like Jake had spoken to me. I am a messed-up drunk. I felt dirty and achy; I was shivering from the cold and soon I was way too hot, throwing blankets off of me. Oh, why did they not let me just wither away? Why do I have to suffer this feeling? I spoke a little. My state of being was way too awful. I was limp and listless, on an IV, dehydrated, or something.
I am just not getting the memo that heavy, long drinking has very nasty consequences for my body. Either I had gotten rid of whatever number two did to me back then, so I could not drink this much, or then I had just evolved more. I was wondering has these operated on me. Had I killed my organs again? Marinated them with booze more or less.
Then I could move. Sit and not feel anymore so awful. But I was not so hungry, I was depressed, or something much deeper. Can I just be in a state where nothing felt and there was no heartbreak, no deep sorrow, no self-hate? No desperation. I cried a lot. Someone was there always to comfort me, telling me that everything would be fine, but it wouldn't be fine. Why did I have to exist? I was nothing. Damon had ripped away everything important to me, leaving a deep aching wound in my soul. In my mind, too.
I was in this limbo, not wanting to feel, not wanting to exist. Nothing felt like anything. It was like there was no color in the world at all. The feeling was almost or nonfeeling was almost too much for me. My fangs did nothing, even i tried. Someone was telling to that my teeth are drained empty, and there is block so I can't do any substance.
However, these didn't leave me a choice. I had just picked myself up somehow and moved on. Drinking is not the answer and they are not let me in hibernation, so must go on. It took a little over three weeks and operation to replace my pretty dead organs for me to get over my alcohol poisoning and Colin lived in the castle, as did Wulfe, Magnum, Dexter, and Murdock. They fed me, talked to me, kept me close, let me cry. They were gentle but firm same time and quite a few times; I was in Magnum's lap, while Dexter or Wulfe fed me, making sure that I ate.
Colin was reading my medical files as they had given to me. The pack had deleted them from their computer. I was trash for them. Slowly, there were even some hues in the world. Not just mere grey desperation.
I had my new pack. I could see that I was more or less on suicide watch and I could not blame them. My mood fluctuated a lot. At one moment I might be fine, starting to plan my life, and in a second crying my eyes out. Everyone, even Dexter, comforted me, kept me in their arms, and let me cry. I was not so sure did Colin drugged me at some point. I slept a lot. I was exhausted from feeling this bad. It was hard on my mind, too. I could feel my mind being torn apart, too. It felt like I had a deep wound in my mind as well. Many deep wounds, craters almost but I had no choice than move on.
Day after day went. Heartbreak did not ease at all. My rage emerged, and it helped a lot. The worst was over. Now I didn't want to feel, so I used my rage to block my feelings. I made armor for myself. A shell, so nothing felt. I put all my pain and anguish into a tight ball in my mind, locked it away, and learned about my new life.
Magnum and others helped me, now it was not time to put my rage down but to use it, and change it I had a lot more oomph since I left or was kicked out from the pack so I was strong creature and I felt it too.
Physical therapy, well combine Magnum, sergeant major, now with mischievously thinking teen vampire wizard with nasty spells, leprechaun hybrid whose wolf's form was fast, merciless and cunning, small like marrok had been, but this was pretty decent opponent. Murdock shooting nets or something at me, Dexter attacking wherever and suddenly. I had my work cut out to me. I had to learn to use my rage, my body and my mind, my abilities and powers quite damn fast and efficiently.