The elevator finally climbs up to our floor, and the notifying ding from the door opening rings like a fire alarm in my ears, which only momentarily blocks out the sound of my own heart pounding in them. I am soaking wet from sweat and my legs are like rubber as we exit the elevator car. I am under real threat of collapsing on the floor if we don't get to our room in the next nano-second.

I can hear Vanessa babbling and giggling drunkenly behind me, seemingly oblivious to anything that's going on with me, but I guess I can't be sure. Her voice is warped and muffled, so I don't even attempt to make out anything she's saying. I just try to focus on staying upright, and making forward progress with each stagger I can will my legs to make.

But then I spot them. The two gorillas. They're standing guard outside our room, and I can't understand why, since we're out here. Unless...there is someone in our room for them to guard?

A surge of fear suddenly courses through me, and I instantly panic. Who the hell do they have in there?! Pepper?! Oh, God. Was this all a ploy to somehow distract me? Did Vanessa manage to whisk her out from under my nose at the restaurant, and bring her back here? Visions of Pepper bound and gagged to a chair invade my mind- her begging and pleading to be let go, tears streaking down her face, terrified of Vanessa walking through that door and sealing her fate in front of me...

"What're they doing here? There's no one in there," I rattle out, the words falling out of my mouth in rapid succession. I'm praying that, just by my stating this, it somehow magically comes true.

"Well, they're not here for nothing," Vanessa quips back, and I stop cold in my tracks. I swivel (albeit, with a definite wobble) to stare at her, wide eyed.

She halts and looks at me defensively, then she scoffs sloppily, spittle flying out of her mouth. "They're here for us, you ninny," she jabs, raising a hand to lazily shove my shoulder in protest. "For our pro-tec-tion," she says, exaggerating the enunciation of each syllable. "They are my bodyguards, after all!"

My hearing has momentarily improved, for reasons unknown to me, so I hear every word she says, now. But my brain is still slow to comprehend the meaning of them. So I shake my head back and forth to try to clear my mind and concentrate on what she's said before I respond. "Then where have they been this whole time?" I argue after a moment.

She shrugs. "I thought their presence would dampen the romantic mood, my love! So I sent them away for a few hours," she explains, flinging a hand dramatically up in the air to demonstrate. "They're such good boys. I thought they deserved a little treat, too," she goes on to say, speaking about them as if they were her pets, with a big stupid grin plastered on her face. Then her expression changes to a glower. "They're certainly not here for the room next door, if that's what you're thinking! Do you really think I care about what Ms. Potts's little boy toy is up to? Or better yet, who or what is paying attention to your tart at the restaurant right now? She's on her own, as far as I'm concerned. Wouldn't care if she never came back, if I'm being honest," she babbles. "Suddenly turned up missing, or some such. Wouldn't that be a lucky turn of events."

I grit my teeth. I hate it when she calls Pepper a tart, but I hate even more that she's wishing for something bad to happen to her here, which points out a growing concern I've had in my mind since we left the restaurant. I need to check on her. I need to make sure she's okay. That she's safe. Call me old-fashioned (better yet, don't. Call me...chivalrous), but I don't like the idea of her being alone on this island at night. I'd feel much better if I...or someone trustworthy...was with her. But given the circumstances, I don't see how that's going to happen. Vanessa's two pets are gonna be here all night, from the looks of it. My only hope is that I can find an opportunity to text her.

We make it to the door, and the two goons greet us with a nod as I lean hard against the door jamb trying to steady myself. "Goo' evenin', Miss," one of them rumbles in his thick cockney accent.

"Goo' evening," Vanessa slurs in reply, and proceeds to fish our room keycard out of her brazier. Classy, I snark to myself, with an eyeroll. "Ahh, there we are," she comments, when she finally finds it, and presses the key to the sensor. The lock clicks in response, and the little green light flashes, indicating the door is open. She pushes the handle down and shoves the door open. Then she stumbles through it, and giggles, and I follow her inside. She immediately swivels around on her heels as the door closes behind us, and then she lunges forward, mashing our lips together as she snakes her arms and legs around my body. But I resist.

"Va...Vanessa, w-wait," I stammer, trying to avoid her kiss. Then I pull back and away from her, and she pouts at me. "I gotta get a fix first," I explain, panting, hold my hands up in a surrender. "I swear to God, I'll collapse right here if I don't."

She gives me this devilish grin and attempts to saunter back over to me, but it's more stumbling than sauntering, since she's very much still inebriated. I watch as she then walks two fingers up my chest. "Fine," she says curtly, as she bops me on the end of the nose with her pointer finger. I bristle. I hate it when she does this, too.

I nod, and sigh in relief. "Great," I say, as my eyes leave hers to start scanning the room for the little black pouch she keeps the drugs in, but I'm coming up empty. "Uh...where is it?" I ask, flicking my eyes back to hers.

She giggles, and then hiccups, and then she laughs at that. "Where's what, my love?" she finally coos.

"The..." I start to say, my eyes going back to searching the room, but this time with much more urgency. "The...black pouch. The drugs! Where are they?"

"Oh, I...must have put them..." she starts lazily looking over one shoulder, and then the other. "Somewhere," she finishes by saying, bringing her gaze back to mine. Then she gives me this dopey grin, and shrugs, as if this is perfectly amusing that I'm over here, in the throes of full on detox, and she can't remember where she put the damned pouch!

I begin to fume. My nostrils flare. "Vanessa, damn it! Where is it?!" I bark, as I stagger over to the where the luggage is. She swivels around to watch me as I pass her, and I can feel her eyes staying on me.

"You're getting warmer!" she chirps out, and starts giggling.

I look over my shoulder. "Seriously?! This isn't funny!" I bark back, as I riffle through her suitcase, spilling the contents all over the floor.

But she giggles again in defiance.

My vision is going blurry, and I pause to wipe the sweat from my forehead on the back of my hand. As I continue to search, I sense her move behind me and collapse onto the bed. "I'll just be over here, my love! Awaiting your ravishing!" she chirps.

"That's not happening at this rate," I mutter, but my train of thought is quickly broken seconds later when I hear a very familiar sound. It's Vanessa. Snoring.

I let out a heavy exhale and turn to look over my shoulder at her. She's out cold.

I roll my eyes, and huff in exasperation as I stop what I'm doing and go over to the bed. I really need that pouch. As if I hadn't made that clear enough to this point.

"Vanessa, wake up. C'mon," I say, as I bend over her, and jostle her arm. She moans, but doesn't come to. Instead, she rolls onto the side of the arm I was jostling, and continues snoring.

I grit my teeth, and make a choking gesture at her in my frustration of her lack of help in this situation. But, then again, why am I surprised? She withheld on me before we left the restaurant, and that's why I'm in this mess. Which I still don't get her reasoning for. But whatever. I don't have time to think about it right now. I've gotta find that pouch.

I go about ransacking the rest of the room. The drawers in the night stands are empty. The suitcases- empty. The shelves in the wardrobe- nothing there.

I am in full blown panic now. My chest is tight. My lungs hurt. My stomach is churning. My body is aching and soaked with sweat, and my vision is like I'm looking at static on an old television set.

In short? I feel like I'm about to die.

But then my short-circuiting brain flickers with one last thought. The bathroom. Maybe she hid it in there.

I stomp over to the doorway of it, clomping over the top of the heap of clothes on the floor that I'd flung out of the suitcases, and clamor through the door. There is a small drawer in the center of the vanity just under the sink.

"Oh please oh please oh please!" I plead to the cosmos as I take a breath, and then yank it open.

"Ha ha!" I exclaim in eureka. It's there. And right now? It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I yank open the cuff of my shirt, and the button goes flying. I hastily roll up the sleeve, and then I reach for the pouch, and jerk the black zipper open. Then I lay the case open on the vanity, grab a syringe, and yank the clear plastic cap off the needle with my teeth, spitting it out onto the floor. I pick up the bottle of clear liquid and plunge the needle into the rubber-stopped tip. Is it weird that my mouth is watering as I do this? God, I really am addicted to this shit!

But I dismiss this thought, and swallow hard, then hungrily lick my lips.

However, I abruptly stop, as something has suddenly occurred to me. I have no idea how much Vanessa's been giving me!

"Oh, that's a problem!" I mutter to myself. "Shit!"

I pause for a couple of seconds, trying to flash the image of the full syringes that she's plunged into me through my mind like a slide show to see if I can figure this out at all. And all I can do is vaguely remember seeing the small measure of airspace left in the end as I saw her stick it into me.

I frown. "It'll have to work," I say to myself, acutely aware of what'll happen if I'm wrong, and it's too much.

But I ignore my apprehension, plunk myself down on the toilet seat, extend my arm over the vanity, and make a tight fist. The big green vein in the crook of my elbow suddenly pops to the surface. I take a deep breath, grit my teeth, and plunge the needle diagonally into it, simultaneously pressing the plunger on the syringe down. I watch the clear liquid I'd filled it with disappear into my body, the vein plumping noticeably with the added volume of fluid. After a few seconds, I reach the end of the dose, and slowly slide the needle out of my skin, feeling the burn of the drug dispersing into my blood stream instantaneously. When the needle is out, I toss it to the floor, and clap my other hand over the injection site, bending my elbow so my forearm is pointed upward.

This is it. Where the metal meets the meat. I'll know within seconds if I got the dose right, or...I didn't.

I feel every muscle in my body start to relax, to the point of making my limbs feel heavy. This is a new sensation. One I'd never felt before since I've been on this stuff. And for a moment, that causes alarm, but my doped up brain quickly dismisses it, as my thought processes have now become slow and I can't recall why I was concerned. I am growing increasingly fatigued, so I slide my body down to the floor. I lean my back against the wall, and close my eyes. The sound of my breathing fills my ears. A vision then appears behind my eye lids. But it's blurry.

I can make out that it's a woman, though.

I can tell she's smiling. Then she speaks, but the word she says is too muffled, so I can't understand it. However, I'd know that voice anywhere.

Because it's Pepper's.

She slowly comes into better focus, and speaks again.

"Tony?" she says, her voice soft and muffled.

"Pep," I answer back. "You're here. You're okay."

She's now into full focus in front of me, and she looks intently into my eyes. I feel her cup my cheek with her hand. Her touch is so tender. So warm. I sigh softly in reaction and smile at her. She smiles back.

"Of course I'm here. I'm always here for you, Tony," she tells me. And I nod in reply.

"Yes. You are. You're always here for me," I slur, my voice watery sounding.

"Sleep, Tony," she tells me. "It's time to sleep now."

I feel her lean in, and press her lips to my forehead, and my heart swells with the comfort I get from her affection. Then she pulls back to look at me again, and we smile at each other.

"When I dream, it's about you," I reveal to her. "Every time. It's always you."

She smiles again, and nods in understanding.

Content in the fact that I could let her know this before I go, I smile back at her. And then I drift off.