At 2am the withdrawal symptoms kicked in in earnest; night sweats, insomnia, restlessness, and hallucinations. Ward thrashed in his bed, screaming in terror at the sight of his dead father looming over him with the same knife he had used to kill him.

"No! Please, no!" he shrieked, trying to scramble away from the nightmarish figure looming over him.

"Waaaard…I'm so hungry Ward…."

"No! NOOOOO!"

The door to his bedroom burst open as Soraya ran in, her long dark hair in a braid smacking against her back as she grabbed Ward's arm and pulled on him with all her strength, forcing him to face her.

His eyes were wild with terror and sweat streamed down his face, his body trembling under her touch. Soraya rested her palm against his cheek, shushing him softly, "Shh Ward, whatever you're seeing isn't real, okay?" she assured him.

His eyes were wild as they searched the room, his face deathly white as he shook with fear. "N-no, no, no," he whispered, his voice cracking from fear.

Soraya grimaced and made a decision, winding her arm around his waist and tugging on him until he stood, clinging to her so tightly it made her wince. Inch by painful inch she carried him to the bathroom and away from whatever nightmare was terrorizing him.

Carefully she pushed him into the shower, turning on the water so it was icy cold, slapping against his face and soaking his clothes. Her own grew wet as she stood under the icy blast, holding him upright, her arms growing tired from supporting his weight.

She could hear him mumbling incoherently and struggled to listen over the sound of the water hitting the tiles.

"No dad…no…please," he whimpered, gasping as the icy water continued to hit him in the face. Soraya frowned and adjusted her grip on him, shivering at the icy water soaking into her skin.

What people saw when they were detoxing was different every time, sometimes it made sense, other times it was simply the result of toxins and neurons firing, creating a swirl of madness that left people screaming for days.

She sincerely hoped that wouldn't be the case with Ward, but it seemed his hallucination was solely focused on his deceased father. As his shivers slowed, so too did his breathing, his lids fluttering against the water streaming down his face as he turned his chin down to look at her through hazy eyes.

Soraya smiled softly, "Hi Ward, do you know where you are?" she asked softly, watching as his drug addled brain struggled to comprehend her. After a moment he nodded, his mouth working as he tried to speak.

"M-my apartment…b-bathroom?" he guessed, sighing tiredly when she nodded.

"Good, Ward, good. Do you know who I am?" she asked.

"S-S-Soraya," he stammered, his voice raw and weak.

"Good, now how do you feel?" she murmured. "Do you think you're going to be sick?" she asked.

He nodded, his head lolling loosely for a moment as he tried to regain focus on her. "I-I'm c-cold," he told her weakly, leaning heavier against her as he tried to escape the icy water. Soraya nodded and flipped off the water, holding onto him as he sagged, his limbs quaking from the cold.

Slowly she dragged him out of the shower, forcing him to sit on the countertop while she grabbed a towel, draping it beside him on the counter. She grabbed the fabric of his tshirt, pulling it slowly over his head and tossing it aside with a wet slapping sound.

Draping the towel around his shoulders for the moment she peered at him, wondering if he could sit on his own. "Can you sit here while I get you dry pants?" she asked, peering into his unfocused eyes.

Ward nodded dizzily and leaned back against the mirror, his eyes sliding shut. Soraya watched him for a moment before turning and hurrying to his closet, grabbing a dry pair of briefs from a drawer before running back.

Ward had pulled the towel tighter around his shoulders and was barely awake when she came back to him, ready to help him change. "Ward? Can you undress yourself, or do you need my help?" she asked gently, peering into his tired eyes.

He shook his head loosely, "I-I…" he shook his head again, swallowing hard as nausea swelled in his stomach.

Soraya frowned lightly and shook her head, "Ok, just relax," she murmured, tugging on the band of his shorts, grunting in thanks when he shifted his hips to make it easier on her. She carefully averted her gaze as the shorts slid down his legs and onto the floor, her hands working quickly to slide the briefs up in their place.

When he was finally redressed she slung her arm around his waist and guided him off the counter and slowly back into the bedroom. This time she lowered him to the small seat beside his fireplace, leaving him with a wastebasket tucked in his limp hands.

Quickly she stripped his sweat soaked sheets from the bed and tossed them aside, pulling fresh sheets onto the bed as quickly as possible. Behind her she could hear Ward retching, a low, pitiful sound.

She glanced over and saw his face bent over the trashcan, his shoulders heaving as he vomited. "I'll be right back Ward, just keep breathing," she murmured before running down the hall and through the kitchen to her bedroom.

Her medical bag thumped against her thigh as she ran down the hall, adjusting the strap on her shoulder as she skidded around the corner. Ward was breathing shallowly when she knelt beside him, his eyes shut and his pallor weak and grey.

Carefully she took his pulse, frowning when she felt how weak and thready it was. He needed fluids ASAP. Rapidly she pulled an IV kit out and began stringing it up beside his bed, hurrying when she heard him vomit again.

When everything was ready she took the wastebasket from his hands and pulled him to his feet, dragging Ward onto the bed as he groaned weakly. She worked quickly to insert the IV, releasing the fluids and electrolyte drip so it could flow into his system.

"Are you going to be sick again?" she asked, watching as he struggled to open his eyes and look at her. He shook his head weakly, but she watched him for another moment before taking the trashcan and washing it out in the shower.

She hurried back to his side and placed the basket beside him, checking his pulse once again, pleased that it had grown slightly stronger and consistent. Adjusting the sheets around him, she tugged on his shoulder and forced a pillow behind him so he was somewhat more upright.

"I…I'mmm sorry," Ward slurred, a deep frown creasing his face, strands of his hair flopping forward into his face as he shook his head slowly side to side. Soraya rested a hand against his cheek, checking for a temperature as she soothed him, making soft hushing noises.

"Nnnoo, I-I I'm sorry," he muttered trying to focus on her face, his back arching off the pillows as his muscles contracted, pain overriding anything else he might have tried to say. She hushed him again and began humming softly, a lullaby her mother had sung to her when she was sick.

She sat with him for hours as he vomited, slept restlessly, and sweat into the sheets until they were damp against his skin. When he finally fell into a calmer sleep around 5am she took the wastebasket and rinsed it again before washing her hands and tiptoeing out to the kitchen.

It had been hours since she had eaten dinner and gelato, but the stress of the last hours and the physical toll of caring for Ward had drained her. She watched as her bread toasted and the kettle heated, keeping an ear out for any sound from Ward's room.

When her toast was done and she had slathered a thick layer of cashew butter on it, she carried her mug of tea and balanced the toast on top as she tiptoed back into Ward's room. Cross legged she sat, watching him sleep as she ate and sipped at her tea.

Exhaustion swelled within her like an ocean tide and she set aside her mug, pulling a blanket over her as the tide of fatigue washed over her heavier this time. Her lids grew heavy, and soon she was asleep, her cheek resting on the rich fabric of the settee.

Ward woke hours later, grit sealing his eyes shut until he rubbed at them, his head feeling like it was filled with sludge. Shuffling himself upright, he looked around blearily, surprised to find Soraya asleep on the settee across the room.

Reaching for the covers he tossed them aside, wincing at a sharp pain in his left arm. An IV? What happened last night? Looking up he found an empty IV bag hanging from the spot where his favorite painting used to be, the plastic tubing snaking down and into his arm.

He rested back against the pillow as a wave of nausea and a throbbing headache began to pound behind his eyes. Rubbing a hand over his face he waited for the nausea to pass before opening his eyes and attempting to pull the IV out of his arm.

Wincing against the sharp tug and sick sliding feeling under his skin, he tugged the IV out of his forearm and tossed it aside before attempting to stand. His legs trembled under the weight of his body and another tide of nausea rose up to choke him, a light sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Swallowing hard, he took a step forward, then another and another. His feet shuffled against the hardwood and he stumbled forward, clinging to the bathroom doorframe, his chest heaving with the effort.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Soraya exclaimed softly, her voice like black velvet from sleep.

He turned slowly to find her leaping out of the settee and stalking towards him, a deep frown on her face.

"You took your IV out? Jesus Ward, get back to bed!" she ordered.

Annoyance swelled within him and he glared down at her, realizing for the first time just how much taller than her he was. "I'm fine Soraya. I need to use the bathroom," he snapped, his cheeks flushing at the implication of what he needed to do.

She studied him for a moment before an annoyed sigh heaved out of her chest and she slipped an arm around his waist, glaring up at him when he tried to protest. "Shut up. I'll help you in there, and if you feel like you can do the rest, I'll be outside," she told him as she tugged on his waist and began guiding him into the bathroom.

He had to admit, he needed the help, even if he felt a flash of resentment at her for having to help him…a deeper flash of shame shot through him at the selfish thought and he tried to ease his weight off her.

Slowly she guided him onto the toilet and stood over him for a moment, frowning. "Can you handle this?" she asked tartly, lifting a brow at him.

He nodded weakly and waved a hand at her, "I'll call out if I need you," he told her, his stomach shifting uncomfortably. She stared at him for another moment and then nodded, turning on her heel to walk away, shutting the door behind her.

Soraya stood outside the door and listened to Ward's weak moans of agony as his bowels turned against him. She could hear him cursing and turned away, walking quickly to the kitchen to begin preparing a smoothie that would provide him with antioxidants, electrolytes, and protein.

She worked quickly; buzzing each ingredient in until the mixture within was smooth and pleasantly whipped, pouring it out into a large glass, inserting a straw so Ward would have less of a problem drinking.

When she walked back into the bedroom she found Ward sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders heaving as he took deep breaths, his hair flopped down into his face. She hurried to his side and set the smoothie down on the bedside table as she knelt, reaching up to lift his chin.

His eyes connected with hers and she could see how much pain he was in, and it hurt her. She didn't want this for anyone, let alone a man who seemed as troubled and emotionally disconnected as Ward.

"Ward, I know you're in pain, but you're strong, okay? You can get through this," she assured him softly. His head bobbed weakly and she guided him back to rest against the pillows, brushing his hair out of his face with a small smile.

"C-can y-you sssing that s-song again?' he asked, his words stumbling and slurring through the pain. When Soraya looked at him in surprise he grinned faintly, "Y-you h-have a nnnice v-voice," he told her, his eyes closing from the effort of getting up and back into bed.

Soraya studied him for a moment, his grey pallor and the deep lines on his face had reappeared, making him look much like he had early that morning. "Sure, I can sing again," she murmured, "but I need you to try and drink this, okay?" she asked softly.

He nodded weakly and she lifted the glass, guiding the straw to his lips with a soft command to open up. As he took a sip she began to sing, her voice soft and warm in his ears. He took longer sips as the smoothie settled coldly against his stomach, soothing the burn that he had been experiencing since he had awoken.

When he was unable to drink more he pushed the glass away weakly with one hand and settled further back against the pillows, listening to the beautiful sound of Soraya's voice.

The muscles throughout his body spasmed and tightened sporadically, pain and nausea rushing through him in waves that left him breathless, but through it all, the sound of Soraya's voice kept him fighting.

He eventually fell back asleep, his body craving rest.

Soraya gathered up her mug and walked softly away, leaving Ward to rest. She padded back to her bedroom and dialed Joy, clearing her throat as the other woman answered.

"Soraya, how are you?" Joy murmured politely.

"I'm well Joy, thank you. I just wanted to let you know that your brother is detoxing at the moment and too ill to report into work today. It may be a few days before he's well enough to come back," she told Joy, her voice scratchy from exhaustion.

Joy made a sound like she had been kicked and exhaled hard, "Jesus…okay, thank you Soraya. I'll let it be known that he's ill with the stomach flu. That should allay any worries on this end," she told her. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked softly.

Soraya smiled softly at the kind offer, "Thank you for offering Joy, but I don't think you want to see Ward like this right now," she told her. "If you want to come by in a few days, please check with me and I'll let you know what condition he's in," she told Joy.

A sigh echoed across the connection and Joy murmured softly in reply, "Right. If you need anything, please let me know."

"I will, thank you. Have a good day Joy," she sighed, hanging up and tossing her phone back on her bed.

She understood the need that Joy had expressed to help her brother, to take care of him, but at this point in the detox, things were only going to grow more unpleasant. She had seen her own brother try to kick the habit at least three times, and each had been worse than the last.

After a quick check on Ward's vitals and ensuring that he was still asleep, she went to clean up the kitchen and made herself another mug of tea before settling back into the settee beside his bed with her book.

The hours passed slowly until Ward re-awoke around half past noon, his pallor better than before. She watched him over the edge of her book as he sipped on the remainder of the smoothie she had put into a travel mug, keeping it cold.

When he had drained the mug he glanced up at her, smirking faintly. "Have you gotten any rest?" he asked, his voice stronger than before.

She shrugged and smiled back, "You don't need to worry about me, I'm here to do whatever it takes to help you get sober," she told him softly, setting aside her book to come to his side, sliding her hip against his as she reached for his wrist.

Ward watched as she took his pulse, her fingers warm against his skin. He fought the urge to shake her off or stupidly, reach out and take her hand in his. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and when she smiled at him, he could see how tired she was.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, reaching up to place the back of her hand against his forehead. He struggled against the desire to lean into her touch and swallowed hard, what were these crazy feelings?

"I-I'm fine," he assured her. And truth be told, he felt better than he had in the middle of the night, but he still felt weak, nauseas, and at times, delirious. The muscle spasms left him craving something to take away the pain, his head throbbing with need.

Soraya gave him a skeptical look and shook her head, "I'm going to re-insert your IV and give you some nutrients and liquids to keep your body strong while you go through this," she told him.

"If you feel like you can eat at some point today, I'll make you a plate of leftovers," she murmured, idly brushing his hair back from his face. His skin felt cooler to the touch and she could see him relaxing under her, and for a moment she wondered what it would be like to kiss his full lips.

Ward studied Soraya's face through dazed eyes, confused by the look on her face as she stroked his cheek. Why was she looking at him like that?

Clearing her throat, she edged back, yanking her hand away as though she had been burned. "You should try and rest for now," she told him as she stood and began arranging the IV, hanging new bags above him and smoothly inserting the needle a few moments later.

Ward sank down into the bed, pulling the sheets up to his chest, a terrible aching sensation filling his bones. His eyes were closed when Soraya's fingers swiped over his forehead again; a soft soothing sensation that felt like it sunk into his bones and healed him.

He leaned into her touch and hummed softly; fighting against the rising tide of exhaustion to ask, "Sing again?"

He heard her sigh and a moment later heard the settee being dragged closer to the bed. When she began singing he sighed and let the pain and exhaustion wash over him, his chest aching with each breath.

Soraya sang softly, knotting her fingers in her lap to keep herself from reaching out and stroking Ward's temple. When he had fallen asleep she watched him for a few minutes and then went to shower, changing into fresh yoga pants and a long sleeved Henley, retying her braid as she walked to the kitchen for yet another cup of tea.

Quietly she crept back into Ward's room and settled beside his bed, watching as he slept. When her mug had been drained she pulled the blanket from the prior night across her and closed her eyes, falling into a restful sleep.

Ward awoke several hours later, a cold sweat sheening his body. The IV bags hanging over his head were nearly empty and he felt and overwhelming urge to use the bathroom. To his amusement he saw Soraya sleeping in the settee beside his bed, her cheeks flushed with sleep.

Carefully he rose from the bed and grabbed the IV bags, walking as silently as he could to the bathroom, his legs stronger than they had been before. It was easier this time around and he was back out of the bathroom a few minutes later, glancing over at Soraya to make sure she was still asleep.

He walked slowly to the kitchen and was shocked to see it was after 5pm, the sun setting slowly out his window in an array of brilliant purples and magentas. He quickly reheated the leftovers from the night before, carrying the two plates with his IV bags tucked in the crook of his arm.

Gently he settled the plate for Soraya on the bedside table before he sat on the bed again, tucking a leg under him as he began to eat. The smell of the food seemed to rouse her a few minutes later and he watched the look of surprise cross her face with no small amount of amusement.

Soraya rubbed her eyes and glanced between the plate of food and his face, understanding dawning on her face. "You-you did this…are you feeling better?" she inquired softly.

He nodded and chewed his bite before answering her, "I feel stronger than before, and the nausea has passed it seems." He took a large swallow of water and smiled crookedly at her, "I guess I have you to thank for getting me through the worst of it, huh?" he remarked.

Soraya paused in eating her dinner and frowned at him, "Trust me Ward, the worst is not over," she told him firmly. "You'll probably be sick for another three days, but if we keep you hydrated and feed you the right foods, it won't be as terrible," she informed him.

Ward's brows shot up; he hadn't been expecting that response, and it honestly worried him a bit. "So, what about work?" he asked.

She shook her head and gave him a sorrowful smile, "I've already told Joy to spread word you have a stomach flu and won't be in for at least a few days. It buys us time to get you healthy," she replied before taking a large bite of chicken.

Ward nodded, that was a sensible way to handle this situation. He found that Soraya made all her decisions that way—sensibly, with a well thought out plan, and a tendency for a smart mouth when he tried to rebel.

What was more surprising was how much he liked her for it.

He studied her for a moment as she ate and then grinned at her, shaking his head, "You're incredibly persistent, you know that?" he smirked. To his surprise she smirked back, laughing softly.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she replied tartly.

Ward shook his head, "No, not at all. It just seems I'm surrounded by powerful women, commandeering my life as though I don't know what's good for me," he answered sharply, aware that he sounded like an ass as the words came out.

Soraya studied him for a moment and smiled softly, her eyes far too understanding for his liking. "I think if you knew what was good for you, you wouldn't have started to use drugs," she told him, watching as he shifted uncomfortably.

"That may be true," Ward snapped, "but you know nothing about my life, so what makes you qualified to pass judgment on me?"

Anger rippled through Soraya and she leaned forward intently, glaring at Ward. "I know your mother died when you were a child, leaving you and your sister under your father's care. From that time on you were in the direct care of nannies, tutors, and for the most part, you raised each other."

She took a breath and continued, "When your father died you inherited Rand and basically became adults, having to deal with company business once you were both older. I know that the loss of the Rand family affected you and Joy deeply, no matter how annoyed you might be that Danny Rand was never actually dead and has come back to take controlling interest in the company."

"And last but not least Ward, I've worked with more men like you than I can count, so please, don't think that you're special, or that being an asshole will get me to leave, because I can handle anything you can throw at me," she snapped, rising to her feet with her plate, ready to leave the room when his harsh voice stopped her.

"You're right, I am an asshole, but if I'm that way, it's because that's what my father taught me to be. Everything I ever did was wrong, never enough; why couldn't I be more like my sister?" he scoffed and shook his head, "You may know about my past, but you know nothing about what I've been through, or why I started taking pills," he snapped at her.

Soraya stared down at him and clenched her jaw, frustration swelling within her. She didn't want to start down this road with Ward, but she hated losing a fight, and she especially needed Ward to understand that whatever his reasons for taking pills were, he had to find better ones to stay sober.

She swallowed down her anger and brushed her hair out of her eyes before she could find the words to ease this anger between them.

"Ah, Ward, I'm sorry. You're right that I don't know exactly what you've been through, and why it affected you so deeply that you felt you needed to start taking drugs. What I need you to know is that I'll be here for you no matter what you tell me about your past, the things you've done, or what you're feeling here and now."

"I can't help you unless you're honest, and you haven't been," she told him, shaking her head softly.

Ward struggled to believe Soraya, no one else in his life had been there for him, unconditionally, except for Joy—and in the past year they had experienced so much that they had fallen apart and he wasn't sure even now how solid the footing was beneath their relationship.

He watched as Soraya slipped out of the room, leaving him to finish his dinner in silence. When he carried his plate and IV bags out to the kitchen he heard soft music playing in her room and hesitated before walking down the hall and back into his bedroom.

Powering on the Ipad from his bedside table he signed into his work email and began reviewing the day he had missed, answering what was urgent and forwarding his sister the remainder.

A few minutes later a FaceTime call started from Joy and he sighed heavily, considering not answering it for a moment before he swiped to connect.

Joy's face filled his screen, lines creasing her eyes as she smiled tiredly. "Hey, how are you?" she asked immediately.

He sighed and smiled back, "Fine. I've felt worse," he lied.

Joy scoffed at this and shook her head, "You look like shit," she muttered before swigging deeply from a mug.

He chuckled softly and flipped her off, laughing when she returned the gesture. "Listen, I might feel and look like shit, but I promise, I'm better than I was before," he told her, the half truth tasting bitter on his lips.

"Mmmhmm," she murmured skeptically. "How are things working out with Ms. Ebadi?" she asked dryly, leaning back in her chair to study him.

Ward shifted uncomfortably in the bed and glanced away, "Fine." He turned his gaze back to his sister, frowning, "She's pressing to try and understand why I started using," he told her softly, his voice rough.

Joy inhaled and went still, closing her eyes. "Have you told her?" she asked quietly.

"No. How would I?" he replied. "Who could possibly understand the shit show that is our family?" he asked.

Joy's eyes opened and locked on him with a frown. "She's technically a medical professional which means doctor patient privilege would keep her from talking about what you told her," she informed him.

Ward was shaking his head before she had even finished, rushing to speak. "No Joy, no. We—I can't tell her about dad. I cannot tell her those things," he murmured urgently, "Look what happened to you because of me and dad!" he exclaimed harshly.

"I know, I know, but you tried to warn me Ward. If I had just believed you, we could have been rid of him a lot sooner. But Ward, you have to trust someone eventually, and if it's not going to be me, maybe it can be her," she told him soothingly.

Ward looked away as he choked up, tears welling in his eyes unexpectedly. He hadn't been expecting her forgiveness; he hadn't ever thought he would earn it. Swallowing hard he nodded and gave her a shaky smile, "Thank you Joy."

He sniffled and continued, "How do you tell someone you're a murder, of a man that was supposed to be dead?" he asked softly.

"You tell her all of it," Joy replied tiredly, giving him a weak smile.

The sound of floorboards creaking underfoot cut short anything else Ward might have said, fear slipping through him. "I gotta go Joy," he whispered before disconnecting the call and tossing the Ipad aside.

He lifted himself from the bed as silently as possible, pulling the IV from his arm again, wincing at the pain. Walking on light feet he hurried to the door and yanked it open, startling Soraya from where she was standing at the door with two mugs of tea filling her hands.

"What did you hear?" he demanded, stepping towards her scowling, his presence looming over her.

She shuddered back a step, her shoulders bumping into the wall behind her as Ward slapped a hand beside her head, glaring down at her.

"I-I didn't…" she tried to lie.

"What. Did. You. Hear?"

AN: Hey guys, thank you so much for the love, I'm so glad you're liking the story! I've got 10 chapters written so far, and I'll be updating here between finishing Forgotten Savages. Please continue to comment/review, I love hearing what you think!