The first thing I registered was a pounding headache, which made me determined not to open my eyes. It throbbed through my skull with the beats of my heart, and it was an unpleasant feeling. I felt utterly drained, my mouth was as dry as the Sahara, my body was heavy, and my mind was a mess. I tried to focus my thoughts, to form an actual thought rather than just the sensations bombarding my being and disturbing the darkness and rest I had just been in.
"What the fuck happened?" I wondered.
Oh, yes, my labor. Slowly, memories began to surface, and this did not help my state of mind at all. Now I was almost panicking, as I had no idea what shape I was in, whether my babies had made it, how healthy they were, or even how big.
I recalled being with Wulfe, being in labor, and those damn contractions had gotten so incredibly bad. Oh, and those blood clots, several of them. And then... The headache made my effort to recall anything very painful. I was still not opening my eyes, but a deep, gnarly grunt escaped my lips as I slowly tried to adjust my position, which was no easy feat either.
"Oh, wait up, baby, you're awake. Shh, take it easy. I am here, everything is just fine," Damon's voice crooned nearby.
I struggled to distinguish which version of him this was, but as the sharp, pungent smell of passionfruit wafted to my ears and strong hands grabbed me and lifted me, I realized that this was Number One. It felt weird, but then again, he had been there.
"Shh, lemme take you in my arms, just like this..."
I was pressed against him and realized he had been in bed with me. But wasn't I in the medbay? Oh well, I should try to open my eyes and see, but the headache made it clear that it would be excruciatingly painful, and I was not in the mood for pain.
"Here, take a sip. See, a straw. Good girl, this helps. Let it soak, that's it. Just be there," Damon told me as he placed a cool straw between my lips and made me suck something thick, sweet, but refreshing.
Leaning against him, listening to his heartbeat and feeling his body heat against me, I realized he was unclothed, and I seemed to be rather undressed too. However, for me, it felt natural, and my feline side was very happy that her mate was caring for her.
I struggled to move my mouth and seriously considered opening my eyes, but Damon's voice soothed me, "Shh, keep your eyes closed and just listen. You are sick with an infection in your umbilical cords. The babies are not sick, but anemic because this collection of several strains is hemolytic, meaning they attacked your blood cells."
He pulled me closer, pressing a mug to my lips. The juice he made me drink was pleasant, easing my brutal headache somewhat, but it also made me drowsier.
He continued his explanation, "The babies have been given blood. For you, not so much, not until we can reduce the bacterial load. It's useless to give you any blood right now; those germs would just destroy it, and then all the bits and pieces would strain your system. So, we need to give the antibiotics some time to work. And why not my fangs in your throat? Well, baby, you currently have 14 strains of germs. I've created antibiotics for seven of them, and others for the rest. So, not even I can get you out of this; it's a group effort and will take time. But we have time, my love. The babies are still sleeping; they also need time to recover and start growing properly."
Inside my mind, I thought, "Fucking hell, is this my luck? Nothing is ever easy for me."
Damon chuckled and said, "Come on, tell me a story in your mind. I want you to tell me the single weirdest thing you have ever seen in your life, or at work. Surely there had to be something weird. What made you roll your eyes or raise your eyebrows?"
Actually, there was at least one very weird and slightly disturbing case on my way back when I had my first version of my resistance.
I thought, "Fine, but this is super weird, somewhat disturbing, and utterly crazy as well. But perhaps for you, it's nothing. I once had a case where we were tasked to check out one castle in Richmond. Well, it wasn't so much a castle as a big house, but this old vampire man liked to call it the 'Castle of Darkness.'"
I could still recall the whole damn case; it was just so peculiar.
Damon said, "Oh, an old vampire, huh? Let me hear. What was so weird about this oldie, and who was he? Is he still alive?"
"He enjoyed growing vegetables and such," I began, my voice a little shaky. "He had a vast garden on his land, and then there was his *special* garden. I'm not sure if he's still alive. We didn't kill him; he ran away. But he was completely insane, drinking from animals, and then..."
Damon murmured, his voice cutting through my thoughts, "Stop teasing and go on with your story."
I took a deep breath, cuddling closer to him as a chill ran down my spine, and continued. "We had a crew of nineteen: myself, Freddie, George.H, Yvette, Deidre, May, Matt, Hill, Reb, Benjamin, Dash, Will, Zeke, Pauley, Clementine, Ann, Tully, Eric, and Little John. It was rumored that this man conducted unsavory experiments and had connections to Sark and five other medical facilities. Of course, most of it was rumor, but we had to investigate."
"We arrived at dawn," I explained. "According to our sources, he slept during the day or was drowsy, making it easier for us to rescue anyone. The place was an old mansion, not in good shape, though the gardens were lush and beautiful. We moved in quickly, and there wasn't much resistance."
Damon hummed thoughtfully. "Was it usual for you to check on rumors, or was this a special case?"
"No, it was quite common for us to investigate rumors if they had a connection to unsavory places, or Sark. So, this was just routine for us," I replied.
Damon said, "I see. There's still so much I don't know. How many of those crew members are still alive?"
Feeling the steady beat of his heart and his closeness offered a small comfort, but the answer was still bitter.
"No one," I confessed. "All gone, KIA. While I'd like to think they died as they would have wanted, I can't be sure if any of them dreamed of having grandchildren or living long lives. They didn't get that chance."
Damon kissed my forehead. "Come on," he said gently, "what did you find in there?"
Telepathically, I communicated with my husband, my mouth too dry to form words. We used our hivemind for conversation.
"Well, it was big, ugly, and rundown. Medical equipment was present, but this damn vampire, clearly ancient, with an almost Dracula-like cape, wasn't too worried about us being there. He was a lunatic, you see. And he was rather slow as the sun began to rise. Anyway, he gave us a tour. We freed some prisoners, and he was nonchalant, simply stating he could get more people. He used to create haunted house ads to lure people in and snatch them, but now, as we knew, we were shutting his operation down. Then, he wanted to show us his garden."
I shivered as a fever gripped me, prompting Damon to murmur, "I gave you some fever medication, but as you can see, these bugs are sensitive to heat. So, I'm being nasty and letting this fever run quite high to burn out the germs. Sorry about that."
I simply nodded and huddled closer to his strong, warm body, not wanting any cool air near me. My hands felt freezing, and shivers wracked me. I felt a rush of something in my neck; I had a cannula, so Damon must have adjusted the drip.
He asked, "So, what was special about his garden? What was creepy?"
I replied, "Well, we went outside, and he started showing us flowers and plants. Of course, my crew knew how sensitive I was, so no touching or getting too close. Then, he wanted to show us his special place."
Damon stroked me, and for me, it was wonderful, yet so new. I was unaccustomed to him being so gentle and caring with me, but my brainpower was too diminished to truly grasp his motives.
I continued my story. "We walked into a secluded part of the garden, and it took me a moment to realize what I was looking at. Human heads were poking out of the soil, rows of them. While a semi-visible graveyard would have been creepy enough on its own, I must admit, I almost jumped out of my skin when one of the heads turned to me, opened its eyes, and spoke, begging for help."
Damon was silent, and I could sense his bafflement as I continued. "This vampire had buried about fifty to sixty people alive, up to their necks. They were naked, with a support cage around their chests so they could breathe, but otherwise, they were slowly composting. As you can imagine, being buried, unable to move, with pooling blood and sores forming, it was horrific. And he walked among his 'fertilizers,' talking to them and explaining to us, rather proudly, as he showed us several rows of fruit trees further on, how each of his 'fertilizers' had made the soil perfect for each tree."
Damon commented, "I must admit, that's too weird even for me. I mean, did you save those humans? What shape were they in, medically, of course? It would have been quite a job site."
"Yeah, we dug them out," I replied. "Let's just say that about twenty to twenty-five eventually survived. The rest... those who had been in the ground the longest, well, one guy, as my guys pulled him out, his legs had rotted from the thighs down. He was covered in sores, and this vampire and his crew had surgically ripped their assholes open, so feces were pouring out. Infections were a major killer. And then there were a few dead ones, full of maggots, and those larvae would sometimes wander onto the living ones who had sores... I hate maggots," I said, my voice filled with disgust.
Damon expressed his disbelief, stating, "I mean, I had no idea someone could do something like that. I've known many old vampires, but this guy, he feels like he's truly lost it. I wonder how old he was and why he had gone so mad. Sometimes, I think time does get to us, but still..."
There was a particular tone in his voice, as if he were contemplating whether he might, in the future, succumb to a similar state. After all, he was also old, and my story might well have given him pause.
However, the memory remained incredibly vivid in my mind. Despite my professionalism, this case had deeply affected me, leading to nightmares and much subsequent reflection. I pondered what kind of life one could have, buried in the ground like some common root vegetable. And since those humans had nasogastric tubes, they were fed heavily, meaning a lot of waste, which, in turn, made the ground fertile.
At that moment, I could feel Damon and Wulfe within my mind, shielding this memory, isolating it, and preventing it from surfacing into my active consciousness. They were protecting me once again. It was a strange, comforting, yet frustrating realization.
My need to be the strongest had undoubtedly been the primary trigger for my MNDS, but it had also been my way of life, my default perspective on the world around me – me being the strongest, needing no one and nothing. Now, I had to learn an entirely different way of living, a much healthier, better way, but it certainly wouldn't be easy for me.
Damon held me close, his voice a hushed murmur in my ear. "Shh, let it go," he soothed, "that's my good girl. Now rest up. Let me in, alright?"
I could feel him burrowing deeper into my mind, and Wulfe was there too. They were in a place I hadn't given them access to before, but somehow, this story had opened the door, and they weren't letting go. Yet, I was being healed, protected, mended, probed. I was too sick and tired to offer any real resistance.
As my state grew more weary and confused, I weakly suspected pharmacological assistance was involved, meaning I was once again doped up to my gills. As my state deepened, it became evident that a nap was in my near future. But then again, I was in Damon's arms, fully secured and safe. There was nothing to fear, especially with Wulfe shielding my mind like a warm blanket woven from the purest love I could ever feel. I just let go, let everything go, and darkness, rest, took over. I passed out.