Ace

The person pulled out of my grasp, and before I could react, Margaret was knocked out. Shortly after, smoke started filling up the room.

Four large figures moved toward the assassin.

"This was not an approved mission Black sparrow."-was all I heard before I started coughing, with tear gas enwrapping the space. There was no time to lose, as they were probably well protected by the masks. I grabbed Margaret's body and ran away, blocking their attempt to run toward us with as much ammo as I had in my gun. I finally reached my car and placed her inside it.

I pressed heavily on my gas pedal, glancing her way each meter of the road, checking if she would wake up.

Finally, after reaching my hotel, I propped her in the bed, turned the heating up, and covered her with all blankets I had, as she was now trembling. Pressing my palm against her forehead, I realized that she has a fever.

What is happening? First I was attacked, now her. I couldn't understand why would anyone target her except myself, as I had a reasonable suspicion that she was a mole. Maybe Alin wanted to get rid of her, but I dismissed that thought because of what I heard from the intruders in her apartment. I dialed my private physician to come and check on her and I was told that he would be there in ten minutes.

She started speaking in her sleep.

"Maryam...you...are walking!"

She was whispering softly, tender at the movie playing out in front of her. Not being able to help myself, I caressed the soft skin of her peaceful face. Her eyelashes flutter, almost like a butterfly's wings. Her forehead is luminous from the droplets of sweat. Observing her up close, I traced the straight and thin line of her eyebrow. A tiny beauty mark is hidden under the hairs of her right, and another on top of her chopped lips.

"First steps...I am...so proud."

Her face contorted, making me pull my hand back. What am I doing, touching an unconscious woman? It was inexcusable no matter how innocent the intention of my gesture is.

"Maryam...no...come back! Leave her...you ghoul!"

Her voice was louder, increasing to almost a shriek, as I grabbed her shoulders and tried to wake her up. Tears swelled in her eyes, as the pain in her voice rattled my core.

"Margaret wake up! Please, wake up!" I yelled.

Her eyes shot wide now, pinning their focus onto a single spot in the ceiling.

"Margaret, look at me."

Her stare was frozen, skin pale as if she crossed the border of life and came back.

"Margaret." 

I spoke softly, cupping her face and steadying her. She had the gaze of a frightened doe and a moment passed before her arms wrapped around me in the search of comfort. She cried bitterly, and I couldn't find any words to hopefully soothe any agony she had. Helpless, all I could do was gently caress her back.

Trembling in my embrace, I wondered about the horror she witnessed.

Time passed and the doctor finally came. I paced back and forth outside of the bedroom I placed her in, leaving him to examine her. How the hell am I supposed to care for a sick person? I have no idea what to do, as I never got sick, nor was no one left in my care.

After several minutes, the doctor finally spoke to me.

"Well, it seems that she is experiencing withdrawal symptoms from a drug. Now, what drug, I am not sure, I would have to do some blood tests."

I turned toward Margaret. 

"Margaret, what is the drug that you are using? Tell the doctor, please."

She was irresponsive to my questions. Maybe she is an addict?

"What can she take that will help her for now?"

The doctor looked at me solemnly.

"For now, she would have to say what kind of drug was she using, and if she had any intention of stopping, she would have to do it gradually. But other than that, you can give her paracetamol to lower the fever. It's really up to the body how it would cope. I am sorry I can't do anything more."

"No bloodwork."

She interrupted, and I turned around to face her. The sockets of her eyes somehow had more of a shadow to them, aging her considerably.

"It would help you, Margaret."

"I said. No. blood work."

She spoke coldly and turned around in her bed.

The doctor shrugged his shoulders as if to say that there is nothing more he can do. 

"A person would think that in this modern age, medicine would be so advanced as we cured aging, but not even a simple thing such as withdrawals has been conquered. Do you really think I believe you?"

"Pardon?"

"Do I need to repeat myself? Why aren't you doing your job?"

The doctor looked at me suspiciously.

"Mr. Mountague, you can't fight nature."

I grabbed him by his collar.

"If something happens to her, your head will be the first one to be shot at."

He looked at me in horror with his hands up in the air. I knew that he cured every single thing my father had, even cancer, so I thoroughly believed that he had a prejudice against her.

I took out my gun and pointed it at the temple of his eye. That scared him even more.

"Wait. I have something."

I knew it.

"Speak."

He reached into his pocket and took out a small vial.

"This is not approved yet, so I can't guarantee this would solve it. I couldn't gamble my doctor's license."

I took the vial out of his hands and loosened my hands.

"How do you take it?"

"Just make her drink it, that's all."

I shot him a look as I had a feeling that there was something that he wasn't telling me.

"Is there something I should know about regarding this medicine? Thread carefully doctor, I don't like being deceived. "

The doctor was packing up his bag, putting back the stethoscope and blood pressure pump.

"The side effects are pretty strong. She might have some dizziness, vomiting, and diarrhea, but if she survives 24 hours, she should be in a sane state. In any case, should decrease the majority of symptoms. However, all of this will be futile if she doesn't actually stop using the drugs, which she probably won't if the reasons for using them are psychological. She also needs her clothes changed to avoid hypothermia."

I nodded, paid, and ordered him to leave. I ran towards her now and sat at the edge of the bed.

"Drink this."

She didn't make a single move, so I reached for her shoulder thinking she is too weak to get up.

"Let me be. I will be fine."

"Turn around and drink this."

"No, go away."

I decided to move to the other side of the bed and make her look at me. Her eyes were glossy, possibly from all the tears and fever she has.

"Look, I know you are scared about what happened, but you need to take care of yourself!"

She glared at me.

"You don't know anything about me."

I shifted closer to her, leaving a respectable amount of space between us.

"But I would like to."

She didn't respond after that, but I decided to talk regardless.

"You survived whoever tried to kill you, and you gotta survive this now. You gotta keep fighting, alright? "

No comment from her side, no petty rhetorical questions, just pure disdain.

"I don't know what kind of mess you got yourself into, but it doesn't mean that you need to give up living. You still have a long life in front of you."

She was delirious, and obviously severely depressed. From what the doctor said, withdrawals can change people's perspectives, shifting their priorities. All that matters is that they get their next fix, otherwise they are at best aggressive, and at worst, suicidal.

I needed to make her sane and focused.

"I used to have a twin brother, but we got separated. My father was the reason for that, and there was not a day that I didn't hate him for taking me away from them. I cursed him every day since then because he..."

That caught her attention.

"He wants me dead and I too am a target to someone. I can sympathize with you."

She gazed at me and asked. 

"How do you find strength if he has taken two of the most important people to you?"

"Because I know that I still have myself. And if I don't stay strong, that means he won and they will never get a chance for justice."

She took the vial and drank it, after which she thanked me and then turned around once again.  I sat on the couch and decided to watch her, in hopes that she would survive the next day.