While his head rested on the steering wheel, his eyes shut tight. The world around him was still. For a long moment, there was no sound except the shallow hiss of escaping air and the faint tick of cooling metal.
Blood slid from his hairline down to his cheek, warm at first, then cold. The steering wheel pressed into his chest with brutal weight, every breath was a sharp effort. Somewhere in the distance, the sea whispered against the docks, soft and indifferent.
The car's headlights still burned weakly through the mist, two fading orbs casting pale circles on the guardrail. Steam rose from the crumpled hood, curling into the rain-heavy air like smoke from an extinguished candle.
Inside the car, the world narrowed — the smell of fuel, the metallic taste of blood, the low crackle of dying electricity. Sparks hissed somewhere beneath the dashboard, brief and uneven, before fading into silence.
Leo's mind drifted. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming or remembering. There was his father's voice again — not words, just the rhythm of it, deep and certain. Then silence, stretching thin, until even the sound of his own breathing seemed far away.
"Stay awake," someone in his head whispered. It didn't sound like him.
He tried to move, but pain shot down his shoulder. His vision blurred at the edges. The dashboard lights dimmed, then brightened again in a slow pulse. He thought, for a second that the car was breathing with him.
The horn moaned faintly once.
Then, somewhere in the distance, the sound of tires in wet asphalt. A car easing to a stop.
Headlights swept across the wreckage, illuminating the crushed frame and shards of glass glinting like frost.
The other vehicle rolled to a stop. Its doors opened, spilling light onto the wet road as a man and a woman stepped out.
"Jesus Christ… look at this." The lady screamed in horror.
"Call emergency now! There's someone inside!" came the man's voice.
Footsteps splashed closer. A flashlight beam wavered over the road, then steadied on Leo's motionless form in the car. The woman gasped softly.
"He's alive! Look, he's breathing!"
Her voice trembled as she knelt beside the broken door, rain soaking her jacket. The man took out his phone and dialed the state emergency. Speaking quickly, he gave them coordinates, describing the wreck. His voice was tight with panic.
"Hang on, sir, okay? Hang on, help's coming."
Leo tried to respond, but only a rasp came out. The flashlight moved again, darting over twisted metal, searching for a way to open the door.
"He's pinned," the woman said. "We can't pull him out."
"Then we wait," the man replied. "Just… keep him awake."
She leaned closer to the shattered window, brushing glass aside carefully with her hands. "Hey, can you hear me? Stay with me. What's your name?"
Leo's eyelids fluttered. The question hovered somewhere near him, but he couldn't reach it. The woman's voice seemed to come from underwater.
Sirens grew in the distance — faint, then rising, slicing through the night. Red and blue lights soon danced across the fog.
The rescuers moved with mechanical precision: boots slamming the ground, radios crackling, metal tools clanging against steel. A paramedic pressed two fingers to Leo's neck.
"Pulse weak, but he's alive. Get the spreaders."
The hydraulic cutter whined, sinking into the car door. They pried it open. It started raining heavily. The woman who had found him stepped back, covering her mouth as shards fell to the ground.
"Careful of the head," one of the rescuers ordered. "Neck brace ready!"
They slid a collar around his neck, then eased the steering wheel off his chest. Leo groaned faintly — the first real sound he had made since the crash.
"Good, he's responding," said the paramedic. "Let's move him."
They lifted him out with practiced steadiness, laying him on the stretcher. His face was pale beneath the blood and rain. His eyes opened briefly, catching a blur of flashing lights, the woman's worried face, the dark sky spinning above him.
They pushed him into the ambulance.
The doors slammed shut.
Inside, the air was thick with antiseptic and adrenaline. The paramedic secured an oxygen mask over Leo's mouth. The driver's voice echoed from the front: "ETA twelve minutes!"
"BP dropping," another medic called out. "We're losing him."
"Come on, Leo," the first one muttered, scanning the ID they had taken from his wallet. "Leo Thorne, thirty-one… stay with us."
Leo heard fragments of their words, floating in and out of the haze. His chest ached, his breath climbed. Somewhere beyond the pain, he felt movement and sounds. The world rushing backward outside the window and sirens pierced the wet silence, growing louder with every second.
He drifted again.
In the darkness, he was standing by the sea. The waves rolled black and endless, lapping at his shoes. Someone stood beside him.
"You always wanted answers," the voice said.
Leo turned, but the figure dissolved into mist.
"Mr. Thorne!"
The voice yanked him back to the ambulance. A paramedic's hands pressed hard against his ribs. A shock raced through him as his back arched. The monitor beeped faster.
"We got him!" the medic shouted. "He's stabilizing. Keep it steady."
Leo gasped through the mask. His eyes fluttered. The paramedic leaned close. "You're gonna be okay, sir. We've got you."
The ambulance jolted over a bump, then smoothed out. Rain drummed harder on the roof, turning everything into a dull roar. The lights outside blurred into red streaks.
Minutes stretched and soon they approached the hospital entrance, the team inside prepared.
"Notify trauma bay, male in his thirties, head laceration, possible internal bleeding, unstable vitals."
"Copy."
The ambulance skidded to a halt. The back doors burst open, letting in a rush of wet air. Hospital staff waited with a gurney.
"On three — one, two, three!"
They transferred Leo swiftly. Rainwater and blood mixed on the stretcher as they wheeled him through sliding glass doors, shouting codes and vital stats. The bright lights of the emergency ward swallowed him whole.
Inside the trauma bay, everything moved fast. Scissors cut through his torn jacket. Machines beeped. Someone shouted for suction; another called for a saline line.
"Pulse faint!"
"BP seventy over forty and falling!"
"Start fluids now!"
Leo hovered somewhere between hearing and nothing. His body felt like it belonged to someone else. He tried to open his eyes but saw only light; harsh, white light.
For a heartbeat, he thought he saw Elara's calm and focused face among the doctors — calm. Her lips moved, but no sound reached him.
Then it all dimmed again.
"Clear!"