"Wait. You're driving?" August stares at Layla oddly as she climbs onto the driver's seat.
"I-I think I can. I've watched how you drove the other car." Layla holds the steering wheel, clearly unused to doing so. "I got this. Don't worry, just—focus on healing, I guess."
August pinches the bridge of his nose. "Fantastic. I get brain damage, and now I'm being chauffeured by someone who learned to drive through observation." His headache returns with a slight bite.
Layla grips the wheel tighter. "I mean, that's how people learned before driving schools, right?"
August removes his fingers from his nose and looks at the way Layla is positioned. "Layla, your foot is off."
Layla shoots him an irritated look, but adjusts her foot on the accelerator, the truck lurching forward.
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The truck bumps along the uneven highway, the wind whipping through the broken windows. Layla grips the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white as she focuses on the road.
August experiences a dull ache as his gut realigns and knits itself, the process more tolerable now. His memories have returned—every fragmented piece snapping back into place like a puzzle finally completed. No more gaps. No more confusion. His chest no longer feels like it's being crushed, and for the first time since everything went to hell, he can breathe a bit easier.
Layla notices his improved demeanor and glances at him with concern and curiosity. "You're healing faster," she observes. "How... how is that even possible?" She shakes her head, refocusing on the road. "We need to find somewhere safe to rest."
"I'm healing faster because I'm resting" August's tone is flat, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Layla raises an eyebrow, looking at August with a mixture of surprise and confusion. "Resting?" she questions, her grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly as the truck hits a pothole. "We've been driving for hours, and you've been shot. I'm not sure how that's resting."
"Well, I'm not fighting now, right?"
Layla's brow furrows as she considers his words, her eyes flicking between the road and his face. "I... I guess you're right." she admits reluctantly, her voice tinged with a mix of awe and unease.
August lets his head rest against the seat, staring blankly at the windshield. "I won't lie. This is probably one of the worst things I've healed from." His voice is quieter now, almost reflective, the weight of what just happened settling in.
Layla frowns, glancing at him with concern. "The worst? How many times have you been shot before?" She shakes her head almost immediately, her expression shifting between worry and morbid curiosity. "Never mind, I don't think I want to know."
The truck bounces over the uneven road, its engine groaning with the effort.
"Ease up on the pedal. Don't take the suspension for granted." August instructs as the vehicle jolts from the rough terrain, his headache returning then vanishing as fast as it appeared.
Layla eases some pressure off the accelerator, easing the truck down to a slower, steadier pace. "Okay," she says, glancing at August with a nod of acknowledgment. "I don't want to damage this thing, but we do need to put some distance between us and... them."
August flips down the sunvisor, flipping open its mirror. He leans into the mirror, squinting to see his reflection more clearly in the car's interior lighting. His feminine features stare back at him, no longer marred by the swelling and bruise from his earlier injury. The bullet hole in his gut is gone, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin.
He reaches up and touches his forehead, feeling the regenerated skin where the bullet had entered. The wound is completely healed, with no sign of the injury that had left him disoriented and confused just hours before. His fingers trace the contours of his face, satisfaction at the speed of his recovery.
Layla watches him, her expression a mix of awe and unease. "I... I don't understand."
"I... August hesitates, the words feeling foreign in his mouth. "I was caught in the radiation of a nuclear plant." His voice falters for a second. "That's... that's why I can do the things I do."
He's never told anyone this before. Not in so many words.
Layla's eyes widen with shock and disbelief as August reveals the source of his abilities. She glances between him and the road, her knuckles white on the steering wheel as she processes this new information. "Radiation…" she breathes, her voice barely audible over the rumble of the truck's engine. "I've heard the damage it can do but…"
"I'll teach you about it later, when we have time." August's voice is low, strained. His stomach gives a sharp twinge, discomfort rippling through his body. "Oof! Yep, there's the last bit of my organs."
Layla looks at August, concern etched on her face. "Are you okay?" she asks, her voice laced with worry. "Because if you're not, I can't keep driving like this." The truck bumps over another pothole, jarring her words, but the anxiety in her tone is clear.
August takes a deep breath, his lungs filling completely and comfortably, free of any residual pain or discomfort. He flexes his arms and legs, feeling strength and vitality return fully to his body. The dull ache in his body dissipates completely, leaving him feeling like he'd just woken up from a refreshing sleep.
Layla watches him intently as he demonstrates his regained strength and vitality. She shakes her head in amazement, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and disbelief. "I can't believe it," she murmurs, her voice barely audible over the rumble of the truck's engine. "You were on the verge of death just hours ago, and now you're back to full strength. It's... it's insane."
August looks over to her. "Wanna switch?"
Layla glances at him, her brow furrowing slightly. "Switch? You mean... you want to drive?" She looks at him, then back to the road, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. "I... I don't know if that's okay. You were just… "She trails off, clearly conflicted. The truck bounces over another pothole, jostling the both of them in their seats. "But I suppose if you're really fine…" She lets out a sigh, her fingers loosening slightly on the wheel. "Alright, you can take over. Just... be careful, okay?"
Layla roughly pulls the truck over to the side of the road, her inexperience with braking showing.
August slides into the driver's seat, taking the wheel with a firm grip. The leather is cracked and worn, but still sturdy beneath his fingers. Layla settles into the passenger seat beside him, her posture tense and watchful.
As he pulls back onto the road, the truck lurches and bounces over the uneven surface. The engine roars to life, a deep, guttural sound that seems to reverberate through the very frame of the vehicle.
"Layla, pass me a bottle of water from the bookbag." August says as he hits a steady speed, the car is far more controlled than when Layla was driving.
Layla reaches for the bookbag on the backseat, unzipping and searching its contents. She retrieves a bottle of water and gives it to August.
"Thank you." August takes the bottle and opens it while his knees hold the steering steady.
He twists off the cap of the bottle, the plastic squeaking slightly as he does so. August tilts his head back, pouring the cool liquid down his throat. It soothes the lingering dryness in his mouth, the result of the long, hot drive through the unforgiving desert. As he swallows, he can feel the water coursing through his body, hydrating his cells.
As August takes the final swig of water, he feels a familiar sensation in his bones. He glances at his arms, noticing that the veins beneath his skin seem to be expanding, filling with a fresh, vibrant blood.
Layla, who has been watching him, gasps. "Your skin…"
"Wow, that feels good." August feels the familiar sensation spreading from his bones throughout his body. His muscles twitch involuntarily as new blood is generated and pumped into his veins. The water allows his body to replenish his blood supply at an astonishing rate.
August tilts his head side to side, the vertebrae in his neck popping and cracking with each movement. The sensation is satisfying, a release of tension that he hadn't even realized he was holding. As he does so, he can feel the fresh blood coursing through his veins, invigorating his entire body.
Layla watches him with a mixture of fascination and unease, her eyes wide as she takes in the spectacle of his rapid healing. "Your neck..." she murmurs, "It's like you're made of rubber or something." Her words are laced with wonder, with uncertainty creeping in.
August scoffs. "Please. I used to do that all the time when I was your age."
Layla raises an eyebrow, her gaze shifting from his neck to his face. "Your age? How old are you, anyway?" She pauses, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You never did tell me your age, did you?" She glances at you, waiting for a response, her hands gripping the seat beneath her.
August tilts his head in thought. "I'm twenty-five. Why?"
Layla's eyebrows shoot up, her surprise evident. "Twenty-five? But you look... young." She shakes her head, clearly struggling to reconcile what she's seen with his claimed age. "You're not telling me everything, are you?"
"I don't heal, Layla." August's voice is steady, too steady. The words settle in the air like a cold weight.
Layla watches him, expecting… something. A smirk, a shrug, some hint of humor to tell her he's just being dramatic. But there's nothing.
"I reset." August exhales through his nose, fingers flexing briefly against the steering wheel before tightening again. "Over and over, constantly, like I'm some broken thing my body won't stop trying to fix."
Layla swallows, gripping the seat beneath her. The truck bumps over uneven asphalt, but August doesn't react. He just keeps driving.
Layla mutters something under her breath, August's hearing easily picking it up.
"Did you just curse?" August turns to look at Layla, his brow raised in confusion.
She glances at you, then quickly looks away while crossing her arms, her embarrassment evident. "Maybe I did. So what? It's not like I'm a child." Her words come out with more bite than intended.
August exhales—not quite a sigh, not quite anything. His fingers drum against the wheel once, then still.
Layla glances at him, then away. She chews on her lip, hesitates. Her expression softens slightly. "August," she starts, her words becoming less hostile, "I'm just... I'm trying to understand, okay? You've got this healing thing, you can do things that don't seem possible, and now you're acting like you're… " She runs a hand through her hair, frustration and confusion evident on her face. "My dad or something."
"Guess I am, huh?"
His tone is flat, not defensive, just tired, like the question already has an answer he wasn't ready for. He shifts in his seat slightly, glancing at Layla from the corner of his eye.
"I didn't want this, Layla. I didn't want to be the one you rely on. I'm not even… I'm not the guy for this."
He exhales sharply, the weight of it all settling heavier on him as they drive through the silence.
"Thank you for saving my life." August breaks the quiet, the words a little softer now, as if he's acknowledging something he hadn't quite processed before.
Layla's face relaxes, her shoulders easing as she processes his words. "You're welcome," she says softly, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I'm just glad you're... you know, still here." She glances at him, then back to the road.. "But don't think this means I'm not still freaked out by what you just told me." Her smile fades slightly, not her sincerity.
August lets out a soft laugh. "Wouldn't dream of it."