The Salvatore Saga, Part Four: My new Life

After the pack had emptied my fridge and informed the hospital that I was no longer available, they prepared to leave. However, just as they were about to go, a nurse approached me and informed me that the parents of the little girl I had saved wanted to see me. I sighed and glanced at myself in the mirror, hoping that I didn't look as exhausted as I felt. It wasn't the time to appear tired, but rather as an efficient surgeon who had just saved their precious child's life.

I knew they might inquire about the exorbitant bill and why I had chosen such an expensive graft. I had no choice but to direct them to the hospital's financial office to discuss the matter. However, I hoped that this wouldn't be the case. The nurse also reminded me about my paperwork and there were at least 13 cases where there was some trouble with my compensation. 

Damon looked at me sharply as I stood up and stated, "Fine, I will be there. I haven't yet dictated the surgery report, so the end bill is not final yet. I take my paperwork with me and try to make them as soon as possible."

Damon frowned. He was not privy to everything that was a surgeon's work; it was not just mere operating. There was a hefty load of paperwork as my compensation could be quite large, and there were demands for me to lower it. Usually, insurance companies took care of most of the bills, but not everyone had good insurance and then some expenses weren't covered by insurance. 

He rose from his seat too and replied, "Well, I was in surgery as well, so I will be there with you, baby."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. It was obvious that he had read my thoughts and was prepared to defend me and my decisions in case the parents questioned the cost of the graft.

I gazed at him and said, "I will handle the conversation. I don't need a knight in shining armor right now. I haven't dictated the report yet, so there is no need for you to be there, as they know I was an operating surgeon. I can omit your involvement if you wish. "

He remained silent, not confirming whether he would stay quiet. Together, we made our way to the relatives' room. He was not wanting to be omitted. He wanted to be part of this surgery. Fine. 

As we entered, a couple stood there, and it was clear that they were affluent. The man's expression as he looked at me was almost dismissive. They introduced themselves, reminding me they had adopted the girl as a baby and that she was their own, despite not being biologically related.

As I had suspected, they immediately interrogated me about why I had used such an expensive graft and inflated their daughter's hospital bill. Even though they had insurance, it didn't cover the cost of the graft, so they would have to pay out of pocket. They were far from pleased.

They demanded that I lower my compensation since they now had to pay over $16,000, in addition to my fee, as their insurance would only cover a portion of it. They said that I was greedy and used too expensive methods of milk money out of them. They were sure that I had recognized their daughter and done that on purpose. They even threatened to sue me, asserting that their insurance should have fully covered the liver transplant.

Before I could say anything, Damon spoke. His voice was soft, sophisticated, and carried a hint of authority. It was like the voice of a doctor, yet there was a slight smile on his face, revealing his fangs that sent a shiver down the woman's spine.

Damon addressed them calmly, "I am an old vampire and a skilled surgeon. I was the second surgeon in that surgery. I just saved your child's life. It strikes me as odd that you're trying to persuade my wife to grant you free surgery while flaunting your expensive accessories - the latex Rolex on your wrist and those triple pearls around your neck. You have the means to afford it with your child's well-being. As a father, I spare no expense with my children. They always come first. Now, I'm contemplating whether I should inform child protective services and have your daughter placed in foster care, with someone who will prioritize her needs rather than treating her as a trophy. It's up to me to decide if you two are fit to be her parents."

I remained silent, realizing that Damon's voice, though soft, carried a sense of reason. This wasn't new to me; parents and loved ones often tried to pressure me into providing free surgery, using pity or other tactics. Damon was clearly displeased, and I realized that, as a telepath, he had picked up on their less apparent thoughts. He was dead serious about involving child protective services.

The couple fell silent, distancing themselves from us. I heard the woman talking to the man about empty threats and that they should call their lawyer to get a lawsuit and demand Damon give free surgery.

Damon softly remarked, "Just so you know, I am also a telepath, and my hearing is exceptional. I will hear your every word. I have rights in this hospital, and my wife is the chief of trauma. So, decide."

The woman frowned at Damon while the man glared at me. Soon, Mariella entered the room with a woman from child services. The woman greeted Damon with a smile, shaking his hand, clearly familiar with him. As Damon smiled at Mariella, Mariella approached with that woman, the parents, to talk.

Exhausted and drained, I excused myself and made my way back to the break room. Wulfe, Dexter, Murdock, and Magnum were there, engaged in conversation with the pack. I sank onto the sofa, feeling the weight of the situation. Number four commented on my state, but I didn't care. I was tired, physically and emotionally drained. Another nurse came by, and reminded me about my paperwork, and that I needed those reports filled in on how much I would take compensation from which surgery. Which would be free? Well, I was loaded that I did not need money. 

All I wanted now was to rest, recover, and perhaps someday confront the events that led to this. I had managed to control myself, but when I saw the dismissive glare from those parents and their callous view of their child's worth, I had come dangerously close to losing control.

I had nearly screamed at them, my anger boiling within me. The idea of putting a price tag on a child was utterly incomprehensible to me. But thankfully, Damon stepped in and prevented me from losing control.

Wulfe said softly to me, "My unicorn, you are exhausted, but what does that nurse mean? Do you do free surgeries? I mean, you are brilliant. You should get proper pay for every surgery."

I said tiredly, "I am tired, and yeah, I don't need money. I am loaded so I can make and I make quite a lot of pro bono. There are expenses for others, but not for me. I have reports waiting for me about 60 surgeries to make up my mind what I want from them."

I sat there, taking a deep breath, and then Charles appeared, handing me a steaming cup of coffee. I took a sip, relishing the rich aroma and the warmth that spread through me. Time passed, and Damon, Mariella, and the woman they were speaking to finally returned. Their voices blended together as they conversed amongst themselves.

The woman reassured me, saying, "Don't worry, she will be placed with better parents, and all expenses will be covered. You don't have to worry. Just focus on saving lives, and we'll handle the rest."

Grateful, I thanked her, reflecting on the fact that I've had my fair share of people pleading for my services for free.

Wulfe said to damon, "Do you know that this creature, my unicorn, is doing most of her surgeries as pro bono, as she is rich enough to give her time and brilliance for free? She has 60 reports ready waiting for her decisions and if I know this creature at all, most of them she will give those free, not taking her salary.."

Damon frowned and remarked in a sharp voice, "Well, baby, not anymore. I'll make sure of that. If anyone comes at you again, I'll handle everything. I'll even get you a lawyer here at the hospital to deal with those pesky relatives and their money issues. It's not your job."

Sighing, I realized I needed to attend to my paperwork as well. I had done quite damn many surgeries, and they were waiting for my signature before bills could've sent.

I mentioned, "Well, it's up to me whether I accept compensation for each surgery. I'll need to review each case individually, sign off on the ones I approve, and negotiate lower compensation for the rest. I don't need so much money; I'm already wealthy."

Mariella frowned and interjected, "So, you've been working for free? That's not going to happen anymore. Damon will get that lawyer to look over your paperwork, and we'll make sure you get paid because you're bloody brilliant."

Before I could respond, Damon asked me to show him my office. Reluctantly, I followed him, entering the room filled with a towering stack of paperwork. I contemplated doing some of it in-house, but Damon was already on the phone, engaged in a conversation.

He soon ended the call and said to me, "Alright, baby, we can go home now. Your assistant will take care of the paperwork, no more free surgeries, and your salary will be deposited into the pack's account."

I remained silent, accepting his decision. After all, I did not need the money, and if it could benefit the pack, then so be it. I was too tired to try to find arguments and not demand those salaries.

As the time came for us to head back home, I could feel the exhaustion in my bones. Without my sugar implant, my weariness felt even more pronounced. Walking towards the elevators, the sound of my footsteps echoed in the corridor. I knew my sky-blue Aston Martin awaited me, its sleek exterior glistening under the lights. The rest of the pack followed eagerly, their anticipation palpable. As I stepped out of the elevator, and into the vast parking hall, everyone followed me. I could handle my drive home with no problem.

I had my personal parking space here, a prime place, so it was near the elevator. Wulfe, Murdock, and Dexter had already secured the space so there were no evil Sarks. Retrieving my keys from my purse, I felt the cool metal against my fingertips. Mariella's murmurs to Damon and his grunts went unnoticed as I focused on unlocking my car.

However, the presence of a teleportation blocker meant I had to drive to the castle, a considerable distance. Just as I reached for the driver's door, Salvatore intercepted me, swiftly taking the keys and handing them to Number Ten. He opened the door, gesturing for me to sit in the backseat.

The spaciousness of my SUV allowed for everyone to fit comfortably. Mariella settled in on the left side, while Damon took his place on my right. The rest of the pack fastened their seatbelts, and as Number Ten started the car, the engine roared to life. Meanwhile, Number Nine sat in the front seat, meticulously inspecting the contents of my glove compartment and other compartments. Even my spare gun was confiscated. 

I was too exhausted to think ahead about what we would do as a pack. After eating, I had a few rooms in mind where I could go and sleep. The fatigue consumed me, and everything that had happened - the accident, the surgeries, the aftermath - felt overwhelming. I was reaching my breaking point. Now I was exhausted enough that it would not be too hard for me to sleep. No nightmares. I was too tired. 

Salvatores said little about my car, even though it belonged to the pack. Damon took care of that matter. He also discussed with Mariella why I hadn't taken all the money I could from those surgeries. He promised to find a way to make the graft cheaper or faster. His lawyer, my new assistant, might go through my old surgeries and see if there were some post-claims possible to be done. He was telling Mariella about those grafts.

He looked at me and asked, "Baby, why is it called McBurner's graft? Why not Salvatore's graft?"

I sighed and replied, "The first person I saved with that graft was Jock McBurner. He was a good guy, and I named it after him. Unfortunately, he passed away two years later because of natural causes. He was one of mine, one of the fleas. He had stopped working and had grandchildren, but his unhealthy lifestyle caught up with him. I performed his autopsy myself. The graft was perfect, but his heart and arteries were severely clogged, and he had a history of high blood pressure."

Mariella sighed and shared with Damon the case she had worked on with me, focusing on the arteries. Damon agreed with her, and they discussed her plans to expand her business into health services. The witches of the Magic House were interested in promoting healthy choices and preventing artery blockages.

As for me, I couldn't care less. I was a trauma and brain surgeon, occasionally performing cardiac cases, but I preferred challenging cases, not dealing with the consequences of poor choices made by humans. 

We arrived at the grand castle, its towering walls casting a shadow over us. Exhausted, I let out a weary sigh as I stepped out of the car, following Mariella's lead.

Damon, with a gentle smile, suggested, "Let's head into the kitchen and have a bite. You need nourishment, my love, before we decide what's next."

Nodding in agreement, Damon teleported us into the kitchen. As I settled into a seat, the Salvatore group swarmed the fridge and freezer, rummaging for food and drinks. Soon, six large, frosty smoothies sat before me, their vibrant colors tempting me.

Sipping on them, I could feel the hunger in my stomach, knowing that the fleeting fullness from these smoothies would soon dissipate as my body processed them. My stomach, capable of holding ten liters, barely registered the few liters from these drinks.

Before long, a plate of steaming hot, fatty meat was placed in front of me. I eagerly ate, joined by the other women and eventually the Salvatores themselves, as they warmed up their own meals. The hunger I had suppressed for so long now consumed me, and it seemed that nothing would be enough to satiate it.

The Salvatores, far from being upset, seemed amused, even fetching me another plate without hesitation. Mariella and the wolves also indulged their recent experiences in the hospital and the accident weighing heavily on their minds. Uncertain if I would be the only one to sleep tonight, I continued to eat, my body growing full and drowsy.

As I ate at a slower pace, my eyes growing heavier, I noticed Mimosa suddenly collapse, her head falling onto her chest as she went unconscious against the table. Panic washed over me as I observed Shadow experiencing the same fate. I strained to see what was happening, and to my surprise, I caught a subtle smile on Number One's lips. He retrieved a remote from his pocket and pressed it twice, causing Mariella to groan and pass out. Number Two swiftly scooped her up into his arms and carried her away, while the other Salvatores attended to the wolves.

Desperate to stay awake, I watched as Number One stood up, approached me, and took hold of my wrist.

His smile remained, as he murmured, "Don't fight it, just sleep. Everything will be alright, just sleep. You are bloody strong, resilient, but fine. "

I felt a sharp bite on my wrist, something being drained into me, and then everything went dark as I succumbed to unconsciousness.

As number one carefully injected the substance from his fangs into Mimi's arm, a faint metallic scent filled the air. Despite her resistance, the heavy sedative in her food had weakened her. A triumphant smirk played across number one's lips as he effortlessly lifted her unconscious form into his arms. With a flicker of energy, they teleported into the medbay. She was light as a feather and he swore under his breath, that sugar implant caused her to burn herself out. 

Inside, the room was bathed in a soft, sterile glow. The hum of computers filled the air as number two diligently typed away, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. The printer nearby whirred to life, spitting out referral papers for each woman. The boys swiftly grabbed the papers, their footsteps echoing on the polished floor as they hurried to retrieve the correct blood tubes.

A sense of anticipation hung in the room as the analyzers started their work. The clinking of glass vials and the soft hiss of air being released filled the otherwise quiet space. The blood samples, now carefully labeled, were placed into processing machines, their whirring and beeping providing a rhythmic backdrop.

The women, laid out on beds, seemed almost ethereal in their unconsciousness. Their bodies were exposed, and vulnerable, as they underwent the scans. The faint scent of antiseptic mingled with the subtle aroma of fear, creating an oddly dissonant atmosphere. The tension in the room was palpable, a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Damon, overseeing the operation, observed the meticulous work of his pack. He approached the computer, eager to view the results of the scans. But before that, he gently placed Mimi onto the scanner, ensuring her comfort even in her unconscious state. The smooth surface of the machine was cool against his fingertips as he input the necessary commands.

As he waited for the scan results to appear on the screen, Damon couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. This plan had been meticulously crafted, even back in the hospital. He wanted his pack to have a moment of respite after enduring the grueling fieldwork and surgeries.

The medbay buzzed with purpose, the air thick with anticipation. Damon's gaze shifted from the screen to Mimi's serene face, a mix of tenderness and determination in his eyes. He vowed to personally tend to her, ensuring her well-being throughout this process.

She looked so damn tired, but he was trying to come up with tranq or sedatives that would let her sleep and rest truly. She was too thin, done too much. 

This was just the beginning. Once the women were restored to optimal health, Damon would call forth the embryos that had to be implanted during the infection. The energy transfer would kick-start their growth, allowing the women to carry the babies for a little less than three weeks.

Mimi would be the first to give birth, followed by Mariella after a few days, and then the wolves. This strategic order would ensure Mimi's nurturing and caring pheromone would permeate the environment, preparing everyone for the arrival of the other babies.

Damon's heart swelled with a mix of anticipation and responsibility. The pack would care for these babies, witnessing their growth and celebrating each milestone. He glanced around the medbay, a sense of unity and purpose radiating from his pack. This was their mission, and they were determined to see it through, no matter the challenges they faced.

He carefully tended to Mimi, personally attending to her needs. He took blood samples and reviewed her scans with utmost care. The room was filled with the scent of antiseptic, as they had a lot of healing to do. Mimi had been deprived of proper nourishment for quite some time, and it showed in her pale complexion.

As Damon looked at her, he couldn't help but notice the absence of chakras and the scars on her spine, a painful reminder of what she had endured. He made a silent promise to himself that one day, she would have all her chakras restored, a new flank organ, and a collar around her neck. But for now, healing and recovery were their top priority.

Three weeks later, the others in the room had regained their health and had even gained weight, their bodies in perfect condition. But Mimi still had a long way to go. The mental work Salvatores had done on the wolves and Mariella had helped ease the trauma of the accident, but Mimi had protected her mind, making it difficult for them to do much for her. Damon knew they needed to be patient with her.

As they waited for Mimi to get into an optimal state, Damon envisioned a future where they would all be together, in the same bed, when the time was right. Once the healing was complete, they would create nests, and nurseries, and prepare to have their babies. The babies' powers would be bound, except for the vampire powers, which would manifest later. They would have to deal with those powers when the time came.

Damon felt a sense of certainty that this time would be perfect, that raising their babies and handing them over to the magic house would bring them happiness. And after that, they could finally have some fun. Maybe a driving trip or a sex holiday, whatever they desired.

But first, he wanted to have a conversation with Mimi. He wanted to understand why she had moved to Alaska in the past and how they had all misunderstood her intentions. Once they had that conversation, they could move forward and find true happiness together. He wanted to also teach his wife how to eat, and how not to use sugar implants because it caused more problems than results.