As Wulfe's pale gaze swept across the pack, Mariella shivered slightly, and Damon felt a growing unease. Charles, however, remained calm. Wulfe had confided in him, and only with extraordinary self-control did Charles prevent himself from reacting violently to Mimi's plight. Wulfe intended to end the self-discovery phase that Damon had indulged in for the past year.
It was time for Damon and the pack to move forward, face reality, and see where they were headed. Damon was tense, primarily because of the CDC investigation's revelations and the pack's reaction to them. A specific strain of E. coli had infected Mimi and her five babies, causing serious illness, and Damon had been the vector.
He had unknowingly brought the bacteria into the house from the hospital on his shoes. The bacteria didn't affect him, Mariella, or any magical creatures. He had spread it to Mimi's wing while delivering meat and other supplies. Magic eventually killed the pathogen, and all tests came back negative.
Yet, traces of the bacteria were found in their bedroom, on Damon's shoes, and his jacket—all of which had been burned. Many of those clothes, which Mariella had bought for him, had been ill-fitting, but he'd worn them anyway. He wouldn't be able to face Mimi anytime soon. He was still in the midst of his crisis, trapped in a relentless mental loop, and he wasn't even trying to stop it.
Wulfe addressed everyone, saying, "It is time for this pack to start working as a family. Damon, it is time for you to stop your petty, childish mind games of 'finding yourself.' It's nothing but a crutch, an excuse to avoid the facts, push Mimi away, and betray her trust in you as a doctor, and the whole pack as a medic. You are suspended as a medic. You have to earn back our trust—and I'm not just talking about Mimi. We do not all trust you to have our backs while you are having this crisis."
Damon swallowed, his throat dry as he realized he'd been lazy, scared, or perhaps both.
Wulfe, showing no mercy, continued his tirade. "Mimi has already lost three cubs. Why in the world were you trying to make her lose five more? I'm going to reveal the state of our children, and it's all thanks to this," he gestured to Damon, "He brought this pathogen into our home. He refused treatment. God knows, he preaches about being the best dental vampire, but when push comes to shove, he screams, calls names, and refuses to help or do his duty. Why? Because he's unsure of himself? Welcome to the club, idiot!"
Wulfe's tone was visibly angry. Damon remained silent, Wulfe's aura, emanating from his 2500+ years, pressing down on Damon like a physical weight, trapping him, making him feel like prey, like a failure. Wulfe's words resonated with truth. Damon knew he'd failed, as a doctor, a vampire, and an alpha male; he had no right to demand anything.
Wulfe pressed on, "This ends right now. We've all given you time to resolve this, but you refuse, for many reasons, I suspect, like your resentment at not being the pack leader. Well, guess what? You might have to learn to be one, and it's not like before. We are family, and there are countless things you don't know, but you learn. You love blaming this on Mimi, making her the culprit so you have a target, while deep down, you know she would have been the one to solve this in the first place. But no, because that would have required you to step up as a husband, an actual husband to her, and a father to those five. Too hard, so you pushed her away, disregarding the impact on her and your relationship. Congratulations, you've made a mess."
Damon sighed, finally speaking, "Fine, will you stop berating me and get this over with? What's the big revelation? What needs to change?"
Wulfe smiled, overly sweetly. "Like usual, this is just me asking questions, and you answering, whoever I ask."
He paused, letting his gaze sweep over the pack. The girls, relieved that Damon's drama had finally reached a head, seemed content. Mariella, a hormonal mess, felt less perky as her morning sickness returned, the early stages of pregnancy had become less enjoyable, with aches and pains beginning to set in.
Wulfe turned to Number Three, his gaze steady. "Tell me," he prompted, "what did you feel when you found Mimi in the cage after Bran trapped her, as Magnum helped her onto the gurney? When the road ahead seemed endless, and you first saw her broken, poisoned, in pain?"
Number Three responded calmly, "I was furious, but all I could focus on was her pain. I just needed to get her out of it, as quickly as possible."
Wulfe nodded and shifted his attention to Number Six. "And you, what were your feelings?"
Number Six replied, "I felt like it was my fault. Why hadn't I sensed this? She was my vampire wife; our bond was supposed to be strong."
Damon frowned, trying to decipher the meaning of the memory. It felt foreign, yet familiar. Was it him? Or perhaps Number Four?
Wulfe then looked at Number Ten. "And you, what was your first thought?"
Number Ten's response differed from the others. "My first thought was that Bran was going to pay for this, and pay dearly. I wanted him to suffer."
Wulfe finally turned to Number One, asking, "And you? Remember that moment. What was your first thought?"
Number One considered it, and the memory flooded back.
While he'd felt everything the others had described, he spoke his primary sentiment: "She was mine, not Magnum's. All I wanted was to throw Magnum away from her, wrap myself around her, and never let go."
Mariella furrowed her brow, attempting to piece together the narrative.
"As you see," Wulfe stated, "the same memory, yet every Salvatore experienced it differently, each with their own unique reaction. Why? Because, despite Mimi's belief that a single Salvatore was always at the forefront, it wasn't that simple. It was a hive mind. All of you were present, all of you experienced it, and you functioned as one. You felt as one, yet there were distinct individual reactions. And now, the big question: how, in hell, were you still inside Number One when you were supposedly taken out of him ages ago? The answer is simple: there was a piece of you left, a sort of anchor, or, a better term, a core."
Mariella remained confused.
Wulfe hummed, then said, "Let me illustrate." He conjured a red sheet of paper. "Now, this is red, yes? We all agree on that?" The Salvatores nodded.
Wulfe continued, "But red is also a part of white, isn't it?"
Mariella didn't understand.
She stated, "No, white is white, and red is red. Sure, you can mix them, but red changes white."
Wulfe smiled and conjured a prism.
He placed it on the table and asked, "Now watch. This beam of light is white, right?"
He then produced pure light from his palm, directing it onto the prism, which cast a rainbow onto the table's surface. "See? Red, violet, yellow, green... they are all part of white, part of the whole, yet invisible until the right lens brings them forth."
Damon remained silent. Wulfe's explanation resonated deeply, making him feel foolish, yet he sensed there was more to it. He realized he might have to confront some difficult challenges. He understood that he was still part of a whole, but he was also unique, with his own needs and desires, which he was just beginning to learn to accept.
He wasn't simply discarded refuse; he was a part of the Salvatore hive. However, he had denied his individuality for so long, assigning himself roles that weren't truly his. Since this realization, a part of him had become frightened, causing him to lash out. He wanted to hide, hoping everything would return to how it was before, even though he knew that was impossible. The future was theirs, and he had already wasted precious moments.
But could he repair things with Mimi? Did he have the right? He had truly hurt her, devastatingly so, and then there were the issues with the babies. He had no right to hurt her again. She would be better off with another version of him. He was toxic to her, and even though it would hurt him, he would try to ensure he never caused her pain again.
Wulfe sighed, hearing this telepathically. It was time to clarify things, even though it might confuse them. They had time, as they were staying in the hotel for at least ten days, and the house had been thoroughly cleaned.
Wulfe said, "Now, everyone, listen carefully. I'm going to untangle this, and it might be confusing. So, let's start. Damon, tell me, what do you know about the life cycle of a medusa?"
Damon furrowed his brow. "I'm not a marine biologist, so no. I know they have no brain, no organs, and they're kind of animals, but not entirely."
Wulfe stood and lazily walked around the lounge, or living room, of the top-floor apartment they had secured in the fancy hotel for their pack. "It starts with a polyp. You know what grows on the bottom of the ocean. That polyp grows, and it has these little tentacles like an inverted umbrella, which it uses to snatch plankton and consume them. But then, one of those inverted umbrellas breaks off, starting to float in the ocean, and it turns upside down, with the tentacles now pointing downwards. Surprisingly, it's still feeding. A polyp might have tens of these umbrellas, and they break off from time to time, float, grow, and become medusa. Fancy, isn't it? But the fun part is that sometimes, an old medusa just flops back down onto the ocean floor like a tissue blob, sinks in, and voila, soon a polyp is growing again. That is medusa's life cycle."
Number Two said, "Fascinating, really. But what does it have to do with all of this?"
Wulfe smiled smugly. "Nothing. It was just a little fact I learned while watching nature documentaries with my unicorn."
Number One rolled his eyes. "Can we please get to the point? I'm not here for a biology lesson," he snarled, frustrated.
He felt like he was on the cusp of understanding something, but couldn't quite grasp it, and this made him even more frustrated.
Wulfe turned to him and instructed, "Raise your palms toward me."
Number One complied. Wulfe snapped his fingers, and Damon's fingers fused together, with skin webbing between them. He could no longer move just one finger; they all moved as a single unit.
Wulfe explained, "This is what you perceived as the Salvatore Hive, what you made it out to be: ten of you, connected, and compelled to act as one, yet still capable of function."
He tossed a stick of wood, ordering, "Pick that up, grip it."
Damon grasped the stick, his fingers fused. His grip was firm, but also limited and somewhat clumsy.
Wulfe elaborated, "You see, you have a function, but it's restricted. You feel each of your fingers, and they feel each other, but your hands are not optimal."
Damon nodded, and Wulfe continued, "Now, here's the crucial point. The Salvatore Hive has always existed, and it's all about balance. When two evils, dark souls like your parents, transgress and produce a child, an evil one, like Damien, the universe seeks equilibrium. It created a powerful force of goodness, the Salvatore Hive. Salvatore's magic was always intended to be good, wielded by ten of you, but free will complicates things. The ten of you have been present from the beginning, experiencing it all. What Damien imprisoned was, in essence, a part of all of you, your core; it's not just Number One, but in all of you. Then, Bridgette presented an option."
Wulfe paused briefly, his expression turning serious.
Wulfe's voice remained calm and explanatory as he continued, his pale gaze sweeping over them, allowing them to feel his aura, his power. "In a way, she weakened you by removing most of each of you from the original. There was never a 'Damon Salvatore' but a 'Salvatore hive.' But, just in case Damien would have won, he would have enslaved all of you, like those fingers in Number One's hand, forcing you to obey and using your strength for his own gain. By removing most of you, Bridget weakened the possibility of Damien becoming too powerful. Do you know what the outcome would have been if he had won?"
Number Ten asked, "Please, what would have happened if Damien had won permanently?"
Wulfe replied, "Mimi would have killed Damien, and you too, destroying you permanently. Knowing there were more of you, those pieces in safekeeping would have been eliminated as well. It would have changed Mimi, turning her into a hardened husk of the woman you know. But it is all gone now, so remember this."
Number One was quiet, starting to process everything.
Wulfe then turned to Damon, saying, "Tell me, Damon," and with a flick of his fingers, Damon's hand returned to normal. "What is your strongest finger?"
The question caused him to hesitate, looking at his hand.
"The thumb," he finally said.
Wulfe blinked, and with a gesture, a weight designed for a single finger grip appeared on the table. "Lift that just by using your thumb."
Damon struggled, inserting his thumb into the hole and lifting. It was difficult, and he felt his thumb being strained.
"See, it is not the strongest, yet you chose it because you thought which finger you could not lose. But people can manage without a thumb, too. The real answer is, there is no one finger stronger than the others. They all work best when they are all present and working together, like the Salvatore hive. You thought, or you thought you were unique, the first, the strongest, but it was not so. You are just one of ten, as you realize. Writing is best done when you have all of your fingers, gripping too. Optimal function needs everyone, yet they are individuals, as they have to be; each of your fingers is different than the others."
Number Four nodded, agreeing, "You're right. We need to learn to be individuals, but we also have the Salvatore Hive. As a hive, we function best when we're all at our optimal level."
Wulfe turned to Damon, nodding in agreement. "You have time now. You need to discover who you are, and also what the Hive can be at its best, now that you're all finally getting there. Test, practice, talk. We have time. And once my unicorn and my babies get home, maybe this family can finally work as it should."
Damon was quiet, something stirring within him for the first time in a long time. It was because Wulfe had referred to the babies as his own, even though they were Damon's. He hadn't been a dad to them yet, but that was about to change. No more identity crisis; no more being a "dickweed." It would take time, but he would get Mimi, his wife, back, along with his five little ones.
Charles added, "I have a bit more to add here. How about, Damon, if I let you be pack leader as well? We share at first fifty-fifty, and then, if and when you're ready, and the pack is behind you, you can have it all. But be warned, it's not like it was. There's actual work to be done now."
Damon nodded, replying, "Suits me. I'm ready to take it on. Just point me in the right direction, and I'll get things done."
Adam interjected, "Now, this is a pack, a family. You are no longer a tyrant, and your word is not the final one. If you revert to that, you lose the position. Is that clear? You learn to do this our way, or you're out."
Damon nodded again. He was ready and willing, knowing it would be hard and might stir up a lot of emotions. But at the same time, he felt like he had turned a corner and was about to become something more.
Wulfe showed them the situation with Mimi and her babies, including the infants in ventilators and Mimi's weakened state. He also showed them a doctor speaking with Mimi. Adam's eyes went black, and Damon felt as if he had no right to exist; they were shown, and they felt it all. This was far worse than he had imagined. The big question remained: would the babies survive, or would their future hold something even more devastating?
They didn't know, and all they could do was hope, learn, and prepare for when the time came for them to truly be a family. Then came the inevitable clash between Mimi and Damon. What would it yield? Where would it take the pack, and what would the future look like? So many questions, ugly truths, hard choices, and heavy responsibilities lie ahead for each of them.