Tired, with stinging eyes, Mariella trudged into the kitchen at 4:38 AM for another bottle of formula. The lack of sleep made her feel listless, but she managed to prepare the bottle. No longer lactating, she'd initially thought it was a blessing, but it was actually the opposite.
First, there was the struggle to get the babies to take the formula, and then the endless chore of making the bottles – and the three of them were greedy. Mariella often felt desperate, as feeding them seemed like a never-ending job. Salvatore and the others were busy cooking or resting, as they took care of the babies during the day and morning, allowing her to sleep.
She was perplexed by her need for sleep, but after listening to Damon's lectures about sleep and her physiology, she decided to sleep whenever she could and manage the rest of the time.
It had been three weeks since they'd returned, and Damon had been an arrogant bastard for two weeks; for the last week, he'd been sullen and withdrawn for some reason. What was surprising was that Charles, Adam, and the others walked freely into the kitchen to grab a bite, live, and sit in the living room without issue. Mimi hadn't been around much, but Mariella suspected Damon's sullenness was connected to her.
However, she didn't have the energy to tackle it. To be honest, she wasn't keen on listening, trying to understand, or giving Damon her approval. He knew Mimi had a case of nightmare syndrome, yet he'd instilled fear and terror in her mind; it was his fault, but she wasn't going to say it aloud, not yet, as she didn't want to experience it too. As Mariella walked back to her bedroom, she could hear her infants fussing.
Mariella tiptoed into the room, hoping at least one of the babies would be asleep, but it was no use. All three were awake, wiggling, opening their eyes, and smacking their mouths, clearly hungry. She arranged her pillows, preparing to prop the babies up against them, and readied the bottles.
The babies eagerly latched on, and Mariella knew that soon she would be burping them, possibly changing them, and cuddling them, with no sleep in sight. By the time she might finally get the last one back to sleep, the first one would likely be awake again. Ironically, they slept so soundly during the day, leaving the Salvatores free to do as they pleased.
Charles had provided a laundry schedule, meaning she too had to do laundry on specific days, for everyone. Damon was not keen on this task, as there were so many dirty little clothes, which were not so pleasant-smelling, and one had to be careful not to get his hands dirty.
Mariella sighed as she picked up the first of her daughters, brought her up to her chest, and tapped her back, trying to get her to burp. The baby was a big girl, and despite her clothes fitting well, she was still scrunched up like a newborn and had no hair yet. But her smell was wonderful, and Mariella hoped that one day she would have time to sleep, and maybe some nights Damon could take over, not just her.
It wasn't just this, however; the overbearing nature of the Salvatores and their role as her protectors meant endless lectures. They dictated what she needed, not what she wanted. Sure, they were skilled cooks, and the food was tasty, but Charles had given her some leeway to eat a more diverse diet. But not with the Salvatores. She understood Mimi much better, and in Mariella's mind, Mimi was right about Saint and her being the Salvatores' protector, this time for real.
Oh my god, she had gotten a chronic headache for the first two weeks until she had put laxatives in their food. She had gotten them to empty themselves, and then she could utilize the food Mimi had done to them. Mimi had done a lot, meaning she did not have to cook, but still they were lacking this and that.
Mariella rolled her eyes in the dimness of her bedroom as the last of her triplets finally fell asleep. She, too, laid down, pulled the blanket over herself, and closed her eyes, hoping for more than a 35-minute catnap. She swore to herself that when she woke, she would make Damon care for the three at night, too. After all, there were fifteen of them: ten Salvatores, she, and her older daughters. Why in the world were they putting her on night duty with no help?
But then, in her peach-colored, dim, warm bedroom, where the sweet smell of infants was infused in the air, she could hear their heartbeats and breathing. Noticing they were dreaming, she felt happy. Even though she was bone-tired, this was a magical time. She tried to remember to write about this in her journal for other girls when it was all over, as she had never experienced this before. Now, she was starting to understand why Mimi seemed to glow whenever she had babies; being a mom wasn't a bad job at all.
However, she wasn't certain which of the Salvatores she would allow to assist her. Sex and lust were the last things on her mind as she fell asleep, and it was a refreshing change of pace. As sleep overtook her, her last thought was to reconnect with Mimi, maybe get a glimpse into her life, and perhaps, just maybe, get things the way they were supposed to be, not as they were right now.
She wanted Charles to be her protector, not the Salvatores, and she didn't want to suffer this chronic headache that came when the ten lazy men didn't care what they were eating or how much.
"Damon, please, listen to me," Mariella pleaded.
She was exhausted and needed help with the nighttime feedings. She thought he would be perfect for the job. Number Four, Dr. Damon, was in the medbay reviewing her latest lab tests.
He looked at her coolly and said, "Sorry, dollface, I'm busy. Besides, human mothers can care for triplets on their own. Do you see yourself as weaker than a human?"
Mariella thought, "Oh my God," as his smug, cold, and condescending voice grated on her ears. She wouldn't ask Number One or Two for help. Number Three was cold towards her as well. Five, Six, and Seven were cooking, while the rest were either chopping meat or wood, and making sure the yard was safe and dry enough to walk on.
"Sure, I'm stronger than a human, but you know, as you're the one lecturing me about the importance of sleep, that I need it," Mariella retorted. "And those three, they keep me up all the time."
Number Four remained cold. "Darlin', try to understand: you sleep when the babies sleep, or during the day. We care for the babies, but you also have laundry to do and make sure our meals are in order. I don't want to sit on the toilet for hours emptying myself because you've neglected your protector duties."
Mariella was fuming. This was rich, blaming her for their poor eating habits! She wanted to give him a piece of her mind, but she bit her lip and walked away. Fine, she could manage, but soon she would find time or a place to connect with Mimi, to have someone to complain to, someone who would understand and not treat her like a child. She hadn't had any sex in over seven weeks.
Time flies when you're having fun, they say, but being a mother of triplets, surrounded by the universe's laziest creatures, kept her plenty busy. The babies were growing and changing, and she saw it all; it was amazing.
Well, it would have been perfect if Damon had a decent attitude, but no, he was once again an arrogant bastard, sullen sometimes, and always pointing out what to do, how to pick up the baby, or reminding her about tummy time, or coming over and checking for nappy rash, and if there was a rash, he was an expert at making it sound like it was her fault.
Mariella entered the kitchen, which Mimi had originally designed. She was now happy with it and no longer felt the urge to change everything. For some reason, she was starting to accept Mimi as the alpha female, her superior, and someone who could teach her about child-rearing. Perhaps they could even confide in each other and complain about Damon. Mariella desperately needed someone to talk to.
This new life had given her a whole new perspective on Damon. True to his promise, he was showing her his true self, not the idealized version he had presented before. She was confused by how much Damon had kept hidden. She knew this new version of him would take time to understand, but learning new things was kind of fun, although the timing could have been better.
For now, she had no choice but to get her lazy husbands to work harder and stop treating her like a child. She had almost lost her temper several times, but something in Damon's eyes, and in Number Two's gaze, kept her silent and her words in check. There was a hint of danger in their eyes, and she wasn't in the mood to be a victim. She was a mother, and her babies were the most important thing to her.
Maybe she could get Damon to be a father, or "Daddy," but if Damon were to say "Daddy" in a certain tone, well, she would have a special carnal adult activity in her mind. Number One walked into the kitchen as Mariella went into the walk-in fridge to find a snack. She noticed the ready-made fruit cubes and reached for a bowl.
"Darling, those are not for you, put them back," Damon's strict voice said from behind her.
Damon's jaw twitched as Mariella turned and asked, "Well, who are they for then? I can tell you've chopped them... Oh, they're for Mimi, right?"
Mariella placed the bowl back down. A hint of deep pain flashed in Damon's eyes, and Mariella's heart melted.
She walked from the fridge, took Damon's hand, and placed it against her heart. "Now, we will go and talk, my love. You're in pain, and my guess is it's some kind of reaction to this mess with the protector powers. Talking won't take it away, but it might give you a bit of clarity on how to move forward."
Damon said in a rough voice, "There is no moving on, don't you get it? I have lost her. I... I blew it up, and badly. You should have felt it. I have no right to do this to her anymore. I am a beast, a torturer."
Mariella led Damon out of the kitchen and into one of the bedrooms, making him sit down.
She sat next to him. "I've told you, I am here listening. I can try to find a way to move on, what to do next, or I can bash you if you need. If you don't need someone to assure you that everything is fine when it's not, just talk. What do you need me to be?"
Damon was quiet for a long time, staring at the floor, and then admitted, "I am not sure if I should do anything. Maybe, just maybe, I went too far. I knew, I fucking knew she had some issues. Number two told me about her possibly having bouts of MNDS, and I did nothing to help, to alleviate it. I was just too tuned up to not bother to care if she was in the correct state of mind, and she's blaming herself, or she was, from what I could hear before Wulfe shut her connection to me. I feel so damn empty, so damn nasty, yet I know... You know, I mean, you remember Rikhard and Kira, the story I told you? Well, I still blame her. I know on some level I was a shithead, but she was wrong; she shouldn't have killed herself. And I hate her, but for Mimi. I just feel so damn guilty all of the time, and it's not Wulfe; it's just me, and I am not the only one."
Mariella hugged her troubled husband. Damon was changing, and witnessing this growth felt miraculous. It made Mariella want to grow as well, although she knew that sex wasn't the answer, at least not yet. She needed to find something for Damon, either hope or acceptance, but she couldn't do that until she understood Mimi's role in their situation.
Mariella needed to connect with Mimi and understand her perspective before she could take any action. Giving Damon platitudes and telling him everything would be fine was pointless; the future was uncertain. Once again, it was a case of "whatever will be, will be."
However, she could distract Damon with their babies. Mariella pulled out her phone and showed Damon videos of osteopaths examining babies.
"I'm not sure if our girls are, you know, normal. I want to make sure they don't have any tense muscles. I've tried to massage them, but watch here how this man explains baby drooping her hips. I'm no expert, maybe you could see if they need additional help."
Damon frowned as he watched the videos, then hummed and said, "Fine. Numbers two and four, I will watch these clips and read some books, and then check on the babies. Good catch, by the way. It helps to identify any potential tensions so they can reach their milestones better."
Mariella hoped this would keep Damon, or rather several versions of him, busy for at least a few days, giving her time to speak with Mimi. She wanted to understand what Mimi was doing and perhaps talk to Wulfe as well. Little did she know the massive fucking surprise awaiting her, a revelation about Mimi's life that would be the surprise of the century.
Right now, Mariella was simply a wife trying to help her husband, a mother ensuring her children's well-being, and a pack member striving to unite everyone. She realized that in the past, she wouldn't have hesitated to take on all the Salvatores herself.
However, as something had softened within them, she was beginning to see their individual differences, and also their similarities – their shared laziness, arrogance, and that infuriating smirk that usually preceded freaking a condescending remark. Consequently, she wanted to teach them a lesson. But the nature of that lesson remained a mystery, even to her. It would be something quite wild, even for her.