Like the baggie was a scolding hot coal, I dropped it to the floor and backed a few steps away. Slowly, I lifted a shaking hand to my mouth and stared wide-eyed at the substance. Only one thought ran through my mind: What do I do?

As I stood in the bathroom, I realized that the decision I made in that moment would define me permanently.

I was either a junkie, or I wasn't.

I sat down on the couch, my leg bouncing furiously, and weighed my pros and cons.

Pro – I could get high. I could feel the sweet release of tension as the drug seeped into my veins and permeated my body.

Con – I could lose weeks of progress. I could revert back to a fucking mess and throw everything I'd been working toward away.

Pro – I could get high. I could forget about this situation that I'm in. For just a little while, I could be nowhere and anywhere and completely free.

Con – I could hurt the people cheering for me. If they found out, any of them – Damon, Bonnie, Jenna, Caroline – they would be devastated.

Pro – I. Could. Get. Fucking. High.

In my mind, the pros completely outweighed the cons, but my few weeks of being sober had taught me that my mind was really too fucked up to make decisions like this.

I jumped back up and picked up the tiny bag. Simply feeling the plastic was enough to lighten the load on my chest and bathe me in calm. I couldn't image what using the substance within would do.

I walked over to my fresh clothes and tucked it between the fabrics, deciding that right now, I wasn't ready to make a decision.

I finished undressing and climbed into the shower. I tried to focus on allowing the steaming water to ease the tension in my shoulders and my back, but the entire time my eyes would dart through the transparent shower door to my clothes on the counter top. I would picture the clear plastic baggie underneath and instantly get goose bumps.

I wanted it.

So. Fucking. Badly.

I closed my eyes and lifted my face up into the flowing water. I needed to take my mind off the substance. I needed to think of something else.

My heart stuttered as Damon's face entered my mind.

I hadn't seen him since he helped decorate my room, nor had I heard from him. Now that Mason and Richard had stopped by, I understood why. Apparently they were having difficulties with the case.

As his crystal eyes lingered in my mind, I thought back to our kiss in the closet.

It had been sweet and short, but altogether perfect. Something about Damon intrigued me. I found myself wanting to know him more. Wanting to touch him more. His lips felt ideal against my own and I wondered how they would feel against other places.

A shudder ran through my body and lingered between my legs. The sensation shocked me and I pulled back from the water. The moment made me acutely aware of how much time had passed since I had last been with a man. And not been with a man in an I-want-drugs-so-I'll-fuck-you type of way, but in an I-want-you-and-only-you type of way.

But most of the reasoning behind not being with a man in a purely romantic way had been because I simply wasn't interested in a relationship. The drugs had taken front seat to all other priorities before and I only needed them to be happy. I didn't need a man.

Maybe now I did.

The drugs weren't going to complete me anymore. Even if I took them, they wouldn't satisfy my entire being. I needed to find a balance.

After washing my hair and body, I turned off the shower water and dried.

I walked over to the clothes with the hidden baggie and carefully placed the bag on the countertop. I stared at it the entire time I dressed in my nightclothes.

I had several options of how to deal with the drugs.

I could toss them. I could throw them in the trash, flush them down the toilet, rinse them away in the sink. I could rid my hands of them and move on.

I could tell Jenna or Bonnie or Damon. I could tell them I need help and let them remove the drugs from me, then council me on why I don't need them.

I could take them. I could sit down in the bathroom floor and inhale the white powder. I could give in.

Or I could wait. I could pocket the drugs and just see what happened. Maybe I would never find a need to use again and I could prove to myself I was better than this.

The part of my mind struggling with losing the drug when I had been without it for so long helped me to decide on the latter.

I picked up my dirty clothes, towel, and rag, and held them in a pile in my arms. Then discreetly, I concealed the small bag in the palm of my hand and exited into the hallway.

My heartbeat picked up speed and I felt intensely paranoid as my bare feet padded against the tiled floor. My eyes shot around me constantly, expecting Jenna or Bonnie to pop up out of nowhere and call me out on my deceit.

I stepped up to the metal cabinet hidden in the wall of the hallway that led down to a laundry room and carefully dropped each piece of fabric into it, taking extra caution to not open my clenched hand. When they were all on their way down the metal slide to the laundry room, I folded my arms over my chest and tucked my fist into the crook of my arm. Hurriedly I completed my trek back to my room.

Once inside, I glanced up at the cameras and took a few deep breaths, instructing myself to play it cool; act normal.

Casually, I walked over to the dresser where my clean clothes were tucked away and I pulled it open. Acting as if I was picking out an outfit for the next day, I pulled out a baby doll dress and laid it on the bed. I took several minutes to look it over before nodding to myself and picking it back up. Slowly, I began the process of meticulously refolding it. As I did so, I slipped the bag of heroin into the innermost fold and carefully placed it back into the dresser. I then acted as if I was rearranging the dresser and moved a pair of capris and two shirts on top of the dress, pushing it into the back and out of the way.

When the dresser was closed, my heart finally began to calm and I sat on the bed.

What was I getting myself into?

The more practical part of my mind was telling me that it was stupid to keep the drugs anywhere near me. They were a temptation I didn't need and would only get in the way of my progress.

The junkie part of my mind was telling me, hey, you never know what'll happen.

Sitting on top of my bedside table was my bag of chocolates. I picked out one of the Dove's, popped it into my mouth, then lay back on the bed, pulling the sheets up to my chin.

As the candy melted slowly in my mouth, I closed my eyes and pictured Damon's face again. A slight tightening in my chest alerted me to the fact that I kind of missed him. Yeah, he was the reason I was here and I kind of hated him for that, but once you get a little piece of Damon, it's hard not to want more. He automatically fills this place in your life and when he's not there, there's an obvious void you have to tiptoe around.

He was a drug all his own.

I stood with my arms folded across my chest, lifting up and down rapidly on the balls of my feet, staring at the button to call the front desk.

That night I had barely slept at all. The sugar from the chocolates had me wired and the feeling of missing Damon had grown fairly unbearable.

I didn't know how long it would be until he voluntarily came to visit me again and I realized there was a way I could take myself to him.

I had to tell him about Mason and Richard's visit.

The thoughts in my mind were combating in a deafening war.

Tell Jenna to call Damon!

They'll take the drugs!

Don't tell them about the drugs!

You'd be lying to them!

They'll search your room!

They won't suspect it!

They'll suspect it!

You need to tell them!

You don't even know if Mason and Richard were being honest!

Vicki needs you to help even if the lead goes nowhere!

You need to see Damon!

You don't need him!

Eat more chocolate!

My eyes closed and my jaw clenched together tightly. With my index finger and thumb, I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to concentrate, hoping to filter through all the prattle.

What was most important right now?

Seeing Damon. Consequences be damned.

Without thinking about it for a moment longer, my hand flew out and I hit the button.

"Yes?" Liz answered.

"I need to see Jenna. Like, now." I responded.

"I'll call her, dear."

Within minutes, Jenna was at my door, a concerned look on her face. "You needed to see me?" she asked.

"I need to go to the police station," I blurted quickly. No turning back now.

Her brow furrowed. "Why?"

I was back in the same room, spinning in the same office chair. My arms were crossed and my lips were pursed tightly. I was not at all pleased to be sitting across the table from the other Salvatore detective.

"Ms. Gilbert, you brought yourself here," Stefan said slowly.

I scoffed. "I thought I'd be speaking with Damon."

"Well, Damon is currently busy. Jenna said you told her you have new leads on the Donovan case. Could you speak to me about those?"

"I'd prefer to speak with Damon." I was going to be stubborn about this. I was only here to see him, I didn't really care about giving up the information or lack of information that I had.

He sighed and I heard his frustration ride out on the breath. He took a moment to close his eyes and think. "I'm not sure what else to say, Ms. Gilbert. We could really use any leads you may have. We'd really appreciate any and all information."

"And I'd be happy to spill….to Damon."

I stopped spinning and faced Stefan. He was glaring up at me with his jaw tensed harshly. I narrowed my eyes and stared back.

"Damon. Is. Busy," Stefan repeated with barely parted lips. I could see his aggravation building just beneath the surface.

"Did you even call him?"

"I don't need to call him, I know he's busy."

"How do you know that?" I knew I sounded like a child and I didn't care.

"Because we just do, Ms. Gilbert." Stefan looked away from me and down at the file on the table. Once again he was focusing his thoughts elsewhere.

"Well, I only feel comfortable speaking to him," I responded definitely as I leaned back in my chair.

The sudden bang! from the impact of his palms on the table and his figure abruptly towering over me made me jump and gasp. "Ms. Gilbert, you will tell me what you know and you will tell me now, whether or not Damon is here, or I will have you arrested and trust me you won't fare well in prison," he spat through clenched teeth. His eyes were nearly black from anger and his breaths were heavy.

My confrontational wall had immediately fallen under his outburst and I knew it was time to leave. Slowly, I lifted to my feet. "I think that's all for today, Detective," I muttered under my breath before turning to head toward the door.

I heard his heavy footsteps before I felt his arm grab my shoulder and push me against the wall forcefully. His strong hands gripped my upper arms and he lifted me slightly. "What. Do. You. Know?" he shouted at me and I cringed back into the wall, a quiet whimper escaping me. Flashes of Tyler's manic face entered my mind and terror washed over me.

I heard shouting outside the interrogation room and the door flew open.

"Get off her, Stefan!" I heard his voice and relief slammed into me, yet I dared not move.

Stefan's hands released my arms and when I opened my eyes, Damon and two other uniformed police officers were pulling him back. Stefan's hands were held palms up and his head was hung low, showing he was backing off.

"Take him to fucking counseling, now," Damon instructed the officers. "Stefan, no more bullshit about how you don't need to go. The option is being removed from you."

Stefan simply nodded and allowed the officers to escort him out of the room. As soon as he was gone, the tense energy in the room dispersed and I sagged down to the floor, my body trembling slightly.

Damon was immediately by my side.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly as one of his hands ran gently through my hair.

I nodded and looked up at him. "I'm fine." As his eyes met mine, my whole plan of doing all of this just to see him seemed ridiculous. His blue eyes were cloudy and slightly red from lack of sleep and deep dark circles were etched beneath them. His face looked tired and his hair and clothes were in utter disarray. "Are you okay?" I whispered back.

He sighed and moved to sit beside me, his back against the wall as well. He tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling. "I'm exhausted," he finally answered.

"Because of the case?" I questioned.

He nodded. "It's getting the better of me, Elena. We are so fucking stuck. And, look, I'm sorry about Stefan. It's driving him absolutely insane. He hasn't slept in a week, probably hasn't eaten in a day or two. He's pounding those files as hard as I am looking for…something, but we're coming up dry."

I bit down on my lower lip and looked down at my lap. Despite Stefan's frustration with his work, I didn't think him lashing out was helping anything.

Suddenly Damon lurched forward slightly and turned to look at me, his brow deeply furrowed. "Wait, Elena, why are you here?"

Apparently it had just dawned on Damon that I was at the police station. He really must've been tired. "I came to talk to you."

"About?"

"Mason and Richard Lockwood came and spoke to me yesterday."

I wasn't prepared for the rage that suddenly burst out of Damon as he jumped to his feet and yelled, "What? How the hell did they get to you? Why weren't you being watched? I fucking told them! I. Fucking. Told. Them!" His hands were in his hair and his icy eyes were dark.

I scrambled to my feet and took a few steps to the corner of the room. "Damon!" I shouted. "Calm the fuck down!" I was tired of people blowing up at me.

He closed his eyes and paced the small amount of floor space. "Tell me everything, Elena. Now."

Unlike before with Stefan, the words flowed from my mouth freely and quickly and without restraint. "Caroline and I were swinging outside when they pulled up. They told me they were being set up, that they didn't kill Vicki. I told them that Tyler had come after me because I gave their names, but they denied Tyler even knowing they were suspects. They think he was talking about someone else."

"Like who?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I have no idea. But they think I know. They asked me to think back on the week before you took me to the rehab facility."

"And have you?"

I looked down at the floor and a blush crept up to my cheeks. "I can't really remember that week," I responded softly. "I was too messed up."

He was quiet for a moment before walking over to the seat Stefan had once occupied and sat down. "Why were you alone outside?" he asked in a much more calm tone, though his eyes were still cast away from me.

"I had been doing good," I answered honestly. "Caroline and I got permission to go outside and enjoy the nice day."

"And no one was watching you?"

I shook my head and walked back to my seat. "They didn't need to, Damon. They knew Caroline and I weren't going to try anything. They trusted us."

He closed his eyes again. "I don't get how people can get to you so easily in that place."

I smiled slightly. "It's not a prison, Damon. It's just a rehab facility. People get visitors all the time; you know that. I mean, I don't, but then again I'm a special case. Jenna told me most of the residents are willingly there and can leave whenever they choose to."

He nodded but didn't seem to really be listening to me. His forehead was wrinkled in thought and the muscles in his jaw were tensing and relaxing repeatedly. Finally he spoke again. "We had to release both Lockwood men. There wasn't enough evidence to convict either man, but they're still suspects."

"You don't believe they didn't do it?" I asked.

He let out a jagged breath. "I don't know what to believe because the evidence just isn't there. We haven't been able to find shit. But I don't like that they're out on the street. I would arrest them if I could, but I don't have anything on them." He ran a hand over his face and up into his hair and as his hair pulled back, I could see how aged his face appeared.

He was working himself to death.

Sorrow hit me and I was surprised to find I wanted to take his burden away.

"I think I could help you with that," I found myself saying despite the screeching junkie in my mind berating me.

His eyes met mine. "What do you mean?"

With a deep inhale, I decided to come clean…quite literally. "They brought me heroin."

His eyes widened and he sat up a bit from the table. "Elena…you…you didn't…" he started slowly. His eyes were immediately pained.

Quickly I shook my head. "No, I didn't. They're at the facility, in my room, in the dresser. I didn't use them."

The relief he felt was obvious as he slouched back into his seat. I startled a little when he started to chuckle. "Thank god," he sighed. He looked up at me with a smile and my breath caught in my throat.

He was astonishing.

I suddenly remembered why I came here in the first place.

I leaned forward against the table and lowered my voice. "Hey… Damon… um… do you have an office?"

His brow furrowed at the sudden change of topic. "What?"

I bit down on my lower lip and thought of how to phrase what I was trying to say. "I… have more information that I'd like to give you… but I need it to be entirely in confidence. Unrecorded by both tape recorders or video cameras," I said and tilted my head toward the blinking red light coming from a video camera in the corner of the room.

He nodded and stood. "Yeah, yeah, sure. No problem. Come with me." He walked around the table and I followed him out of the room.

As we walked through the station, I glanced into a large open room and my eyes met with Stefan's. He was sitting in a chair outside of an office and by the expression on his face, he was dreading whoever or whatever was inside. His eyes narrowed and glared at me and I immediately broke the contact, moving my eyes down to the floor. He was definitely angry with me.

Damon led me up a flight of stairs and down another hallway before we finally reached a wooden door. The official plaque on the outside of it read 'Detective Damon Salvatore.' He unlocked the doorknob and walked me inside.

The office wasn't huge, but it wasn't exactly small. A fairly large desk sat in the middle of the room and was completely covered by files and papers. Two bookshelves stood behind the desk and were crammed with thick, collegiate-looking textbooks. Two leather chairs were placed in front of the office desk.

He walked around the desk and sat down, mindlessly picking up files and straightening them before sitting them on another section of the desk. "Have a seat, Elena," he offered and I shook my head slightly, my nerves suddenly feeling fidgety. He lowered the papers he was organizing in confusion and looked up at me. "Um… okay. What further information do you have for me?"

I bit down on my lower lip and slowly walked around to his side of the desk. "I've… well, I've been thinking about that kiss," I answered quietly.

His eyes fell from mine. "Oh," was all he said. I knew he didn't expect our conversation to go down this path and I felt bad for catching him off guard. I took another step forward. "What about it?" he pressed.

With a deep inhale to steady myself, I leaned down and met his lips with my own.

His response was immediate.

His hands lifted into my hair and he pulled me down closer to him. To make it easier, I twisted and sat down in his lap, tilting my head for better access. His lips were exactly as I remembered. Soft, yet firm. Warm and so tempting. I had to taste them.

I opened my mouth and dragged my tongue across his lower lip. His body reacted and his lips parted, allowing me entrance. I met his tongue with my own and had to suppress a moan.

Delicious.

Our tongues moved together as we tasted each other and my skin prickled with goose bumps.

He was perfect.

His body against mine was melting me to my core and I felt myself getting lost in his kiss.

Out of nowhere, Damon jumped up and I slipped down into the floor with a thud. My mouth hung open and I stared up at him in shock. What. The. Hell. Was. That?

"Fuck!" he exclaimed as he backed away from me, his hands in his hair again. "Elena, I'm sorry. Shit." He turned around and I stood up. "We can't do this," he said to himself. He turned back to me and I could see the war behind his eyes. "We can't do this," he repeated.

"Why not?" I nearly begged. My breathing was still escalated and I could still taste him on my tongue. I wasn't finished yet.

"Because we just can't, Elena. You're still working on progressing and I'm so mentally messed up by this case. It just wouldn't be right."

Sparks ignited inside of my body and anger littered my thoughts. I was so tired of people controlling me and taking things away from me. I had a perfectly good bag of heroin at the facility that I could've shot up with but I did the right damn thing by telling someone about it. Shouldn't I be rewarded for that? Shouldn't I find relief some-fucking-where?

I deserved this.

I was going to have this.

I had been committed to getting high on a daily basis for over a year. When I set my mind to something, I made it happen.

I took a step toward Damon, my eyes locked steadily with his, and I lifted my shirt up over my and head and let it fall to the floor. Damon's eyes flickered away from mine briefly to scan my nearly naked torso. When he looked back up I could see him struggling to maintain his stance on us not doing this.

I reached behind my back and with another step closer, I unclasped my bra and let it slide down my arms to join my shirt on the floor.

Damon's mouth popped open slightly and he unconsciously stepped away from me and into the wall. His eyes moved down to my bare breasts and I could see his resolve wavering.

I bent down and pushed my capris from my hips, removing them and my flip-flops simultaneously. When I stood by up, dressed in only my lace panties, I saw the first signs of my victory in Damon's all too willing eyes.

Seductively, I stalked toward my prey, my hips swinging with each step.

When I had reached him, I lifted a hand and ran my fingers across the stubble growing on his amazingly chiseled jaw line. This. Was. Mine.

I looked up at him from underneath my dark lashes, licked my lips, and whispered, "Please?"

A/N: So, are we glad she said something about the drugs? Do we think Damon could resist that? Do we want him to? Lol.

I've been really entertained with the reviews thus far about everyone's opinions on whether or not the Lockwood men are innocent.

I've really just been entertained with the reviews in general. I love reading the thoughts you guys have. Keep them coming. And I try to respond to as many as I possibly can, but there tends to not be enough time to get to everyones.

Also, I'm considering changing up my posting pattern. I'm currently reading a story by one of my favorite fanfic authors, Savage7289, and she's writing a story where she's updates frequently - like three to four times a day - but they're really short chapter. I've found that I actually enjoy this style much more than waiting a week or two for a kind of lengthy chapter. Which would you guys like to see? Review and let me know.

See you guys next chapter!

Oh! Also! Forgot about this. One of my super amazing readers, NykkiLeighVampireHeart, wrote a perfectly delicious smutty outtake of the scene where Damon helps Elena decorate her room. You guys should all go read it and review. She titled it, "All the Tension, Wait for the Call." So go search her penname and click the story and READ! I heart you, NykkiLeighVampireHeart! *Muah!*