It had been a few days since the pack was home, and I had been woken up. I was not sure what Damon and Mariella were doing, and frankly, to say, I did not care. My life was busy as it was. Kids were all over the place, and managing them took time. Making sure they got to daycare and that everything was packed for them—that much I knew—was not something Mariella and Damon were particularly interested in.
It was more or less my responsibility, or some Salvatore's job. Number five and number eight were not too happy, but it was what it was. Maybe someday they might find the motivation to be actual parents, but for now, not much was happening.
It was Wednesday morning, a little after 6 am, as I walked to the kitchen and started to pack various bags and boxes for those who were going to work. I, too, was working today, so I had to prepare something for myself. Adam, Charles, and the boys, numbers two and four, were working; five and eight were home, taking care of babies and kids; and May and Lily were also working, in their internships for yet another business.
The Salvatores had Emmylee and Vivian to help out with the kids and babies; the rest of the Salvatores were downstairs, and I had no idea how many were working. What I did know was that nine and ten were home, as they were shoppers today, and they would take Mariella's kids, since our next lot was in daycare. We needed two cars to move the kids, as I had ten and Mariella had nine.
I took the first ready-made boxes for kids from the fridge and then a few trays. There were different meats, cheeses, and a few bowls of chopped fruits. On our movable table, I placed everything else that went into the kids' bags. They were the first ones I was going to fill, and then I had to fill mine, as well as Adam's, Charles's, May's, and Lily's bags.
They were waking the kids up and taking care of babies, and at the same time, I had to start making breakfast, so this was a busy time. I was still organizing everything when I heard footsteps, and Mariella walked in the kitchen. She looked irritated somehow and did not smell lustful at all. Well, number four had done his little lesson with her, so it must have had some sort of effect.
"Morning, Mimi. First, I am sorry for the whole damn thing and everything I have messed up. I am so incredibly fucked up with number one, and I just don't want to see him right now." Her voice was tight, and I smiled in my mind.
It seemed my little concoctions had a more profound effect than I had thought.
"It's fine. Come on, let's start putting these lunch bags together. I must ask, have the boys talked to you about this new age thing, where kids are evaluated by their developmental age, not chronological age?"
She pursed her lips and said, "Nope, but it seems logical. It is actually easier to understand where we are, but what does it mean?"
"Well, it might mean that they will start school in autumn if they are five years old or at certain developmental stages, but it is not my problem; it falls under Daddy's purview, so the guys will handle it. They will get those evaluations done and then see if we need to find a school for them."
Mariella pursed her lips and hummed as she filled boxes for her kids according to instructions. "So, men decide, but what schools do we have available? I mean, are there good ones?"
I blinked and said, "Four options, and not one of them is a bad choice, but there are things to consider, like distance and the number of available placements, and of course, their experience with supernatural powers. But again, it is Daddy's job, not mine. I handle everyday life, feed them, sing with them, teach them this and that, and play with them, but men handle education and health, etc."
Mariella contemplated for a moment and said, "Well, I will make sure Dickweed does not ruin this; he is once again trying to be a martyr, trying to be a victim, and trying to convince everyone that you threw him out."
I rolled my eyes. Sure, it was nothing new, not per se, but it was exhausting, and I could feel love emanating from several Salvatores and Wulfe too, despite them working.
"He is what he is, but he should remember my promise to him. It is one promise I intend to keep, so if he ever explodes in my face or hurts me or my kids, then he will get it and get it good."
Mariella just smiled and said to me, "In that case, make it extra creepy. He is Dickweed, and he needs to learn his lessons once and for all."
I just smiled to myself; sure, I could be super creepy with Damon, as I had a little more planning in my mind. After all, I was not going to make him a victim. Nope, if it ever came to that, he would feel my reaction, and it would not be nice.
I said to Mariella, "You see, the Salvatores have started to unwind me, kind of, making me react and whatnot, and they have somehow diminished some of my self-control over my reactions, so I am much more reactive and quick to respond, as you might have noticed earlier."
She nodded and said, "Good for you; it is making it easier as we are starting to go through some of your issues, so don't worry, I am not going to go after your triggers, and I guess there is always someone on lookout, but you need to share. You see, I realized this as I went through those memories of what you sank in me. You were not the only one who lost them. Adam lost them as well, Charles, and Magnum, Murdock, and others—even though they are not here, they lost them too. So you need to tell your stories and let Adam and others mourn them too; it is not just your heart that has gravestones. I have talked to Adam as well as Charles, and I noticed it too. You might have done something with your blood, but I will tell Wulfe, and he will make sure real memories are also available for others. You must understand that you are not really protecting anyone. You just stop them from mourning, stop them from moving forward, and deal with things, and then stuff happens."
I was silent as I thought about what she said. Sure, it kind of made sense, but then again, she had not been there, not been part of it, so how could she have known? Sure, she was nowadays part of the fleas, but I knew just how different this version of the fleas was from my original one.
Mariella spoke as she was truly in her terrier mode. "You see, you let things accumulate, and then it gets all tangled up, and Damon has no idea why or how, nor Salvatores, and then you have to show those memories, and possibly there are triggers, and then it is another whole ballgame to get them out once again."
I sighed and said, "I am an old creature; I have been through too much, I have done too much, and now I am trying to be a mother. My memories were forged to be a weapon meant to break my mind, and it is not exactly easy for me to just let others see everything as true to me, or who I was back then, who was a wholly different creature."
Mariella said, "I'm not going to go through your memories, not per se, but I have a different approach for this, and let's see if it yields anything. It is good that the Salvatores are making you react, and it is so important to react, even for your history, even something old. What you stopped yourself from reacting to back then, now you have a chance to react and let it out. One of the best ways would be to combine your rage and lust and get yourself unloaded in bed, but what I have heard is it takes some doing, and I am not sure if we have time for that kind of decompressing with kids and everything. But now, answer me this: what is the most irritating part of being a leader—not the hardest but irritating—what gets your blood boiling, time after time?"
I furrowed my brow.
I was usually pretty patient, and it was not easy to get me fuming, but there were a few things that set me off, so I said, "When someone is not listening to me, despite having explained the mission three times, and this idiot asks something obvious that I have already explained, it just shows that he was not really listening, and I have zero patience for daydreaming when planning a mission."
Mariella smiled and said, "Well, you might have to learn to be patient, as you have quite a horde of kids, and they might not always listen to your directions despite you explaining yourself many times."
I rolled my eyes and said, "Well, they are kids; it is logical, and I can deal with them, but when grown men are daydreaming about something else other than the upcoming mission, it tells me either they are not taking me seriously, or they just think they are already good enough and have no need to listen to me."
Mariella smiled as she put things in bags.
She said, "I must admit, I am not so maternal. Sure, I can do this stuff, but I am not like you. I have to be honest with myself, but being in the hospital, I felt nothing. I mean, I tried to imagine a funeral or the loss of a child, and I felt nothing. It makes me realize how immature I am, and it takes time for me to grow. Hell, I am not fit to be a mother, but right now, I am too immature and too selfish, and I hope my kids won't hate me."
I was quiet. I had no right words for this confession, as it was true and I validated it well.
She knew it already.
While I was closing on bags, as I had gotten kids' bags packed, I said in a calm voice, "It takes time, and since you lack correct alpha power, it is one big reason; your betapower is not yet strong enough, and since Damon flattens it, it does not give you emotional resonance to care. Kids rarely hate; it is adults who learn to hate, and then they use it. They use a little bit of everything. It is easier to hate than love, as hate stems from bitterness and poor self-worth, while love stems from one's soul."
I looked at Mariella as I continued. "Love is truly powerful, and kids' love is wonderful. It is the first emotion that they learn, and then of course there are others, but love is what gets them going. Love is needed, and one does not have to feel maternal in order to love. I must admit, my kids, the oldest ones, are on a hilarious stage. I mean, Sadie is like a mini version of me, and then we have Dash, a tiny arrogant bastard from time to time. Takes a lot from me, not to laugh when he is just like tiny Damon."
Mariella smirked and said, "Now that is something I want to see—a tiny copy of Damon, or you. I have to admit, I don't see much of myself in my kids yet, but then again, I'm not exactly 'Mother of the Year,' so maybe they just don't have an example."
I sighed and replied, "Stop putting so many expectations on yourself. There is no such thing as a perfect mother, so lean on others instead of just relying on number one. The other Salvatores are wonderful daddies with pretty fun ideas; let your kids see you with them, rather than choosing number one every time. And for the future, remember what you promise and stick with it so things don't blow out of proportion. It's also damn good to remember what Damon promised; it keeps you safe."
She furrowed her brow. "What do you mean by that? Keeps me safe from what?"
While I packed the girls' bags, I explained, "Damon promised you would be his first, right? Nothing more than that—just that you would be his first. Let me give you a scenario so you can have some perspective. He never said he wouldn't hurt you, only that you would be his first. Now, let's say he is irritated and needs to vent, but isn't feeling lustful. If you add that promise into the mix..."
Mariella looked at me sharply. "Bloody hell, you're right. He would come after me. Now, what can I do about it?"
I shrugged. "Not much, though it is wise to remember it. Sure, if you see him needing to unload, you could take him for a spin at the gym or direct him toward the wolves or other men, but that's only after this specific time has ended. Since he hasn't made any other promises, he might just come after me or someone else, so you should make sure the Salvatores are ready in case you need security."
She grew quiet, contemplating how to ensure she had that security. I had just successfully ensured that the Salvatores would be nice and busy, making them less inclined to mess with my kitchen or my way of doing things. They were my husbands and loved me dearly, but their hovering was a bit much for me; I had just secured some free time for myself.
I knew I had a long day of work ahead, but with Mariella in "terrier mode," she would keep on pestering the Salvatores throughout the evening. I was pretty damn good at what I was doing—not manipulating, just slightly reorganizing the pack and its priorities. After all, I was the pack leader, more or less.