Days melted into one another in the bunker's artificial light. Jason found himself falling into a new routine…not quite comfortable, but no longer the suffocating prison it had felt like before. The small victories with his mother and sister had sparked something in him, a determination to find moments worth living for.
Breakfast remained their only consistent family gathering. Richard still hid behind his tablet, but Jason noticed the subtle changes around the table. Lily passed the salt without being asked. His mother's shoulders weren't quite as tense. Even Marissa's customary silence felt less brittle.
"I was thinking we could watch another movie tonight," Jason said one morning, buttering a piece of toast that tasted almost like the real thing if he didn't focus too hard on it.
Lily's eyes brightened. "Star Wars would be awesome. Or Lord of the Rings. I'd watch either."
"Sure," he said, catching his mother's small smile across the table.
Richard cleared his throat. "I have some work to do this evening. You all go ahead."
No one seemed surprised by his absence. It had become expected.Richard retreats further into his work while the rest of them inched closer together.
Jason found himself lingering in the kitchen after meals, helping his mother clean up. They didn't always talk, but the silence between them had transformed into something comfortable, punctuated by the soft clink of dishes and occasional shared glances.
"You don't have to stay," Elaine told him one evening as they wiped down counters.
"I know," Jason replied, continuing to dry the plate in his hands. "I want to."
On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Jason joined Lily for her radio shift. The broadcasts remained unanswered, but he brought her tea and sat with her, sometimes reading, sometimes just listening to her voice as she sent messages into the void.
"Do you think anyone's out there?" she asked him once, her fingers hovering over the transmitter.
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "But I think it matters that we keep trying."
She nodded, satisfied with his answer in a way that surprised him. The old Lily would expect a definite answer and not accept anything less.
Movie nights became their ritual, just the three of them, sometimes four when Marissa joined, nestled into the cinema room's comfy couches. They gravitated toward comedies and adventures, stories that transported them beyond concrete walls. Jason noticed how his mother laughed more freely now, how Lily would sometimes rest her head against his shoulder during quiet scenes.
Even Marissa had softened, in her way. She still maintained her distance, but occasionally she'd offer a sarcastic comment that made them all laugh, or bring freshly brewed coffee for everyone without being asked.
Only Richard remained unchanged, a ghost in their shared space, appearing briefly at meals before vanishing back to his den. Jason sometimes passed him in the hallway, noticing new lines on his father's face, the way his limp seemed more pronounced when he thought no one was watching.
The bunker still hummed with the same mechanical sounds, air filters, water recyclers, and the faint buzz of fluorescent lights. But Jason found himself noticing other things too: the way light caught in his mother's hair, the sound of Lily's genuine laughter, even the particular shade of gray in the concrete that reminded him of dawn.
Jason took another sip from the metal thermos, his eyes scanning the silent radio panel. The usual static filled the room, comforting in its monotony. He'd volunteered to take Lily's shift tonight, noticing how tired she'd looked at dinner. Weeks of unanswered broadcasts had worn on her more than she admitted.
The door creaked open.
Marissa leaned against the doorway with casual ease, arms crossed over her chest. Her brown hair was pulled back in a messy bun, wisps escaping around her face.
"Any Martians answer yet?" she asked, the corner of her mouth quirking up.
Jason swiveled in his chair. "Only the racist kind. They hung up when I mentioned Earth."
She chuckled and stepped inside, settling into the empty chair beside him. The radio continued its persistent static, filling the silence between them.
"You've been spending a lot of time with Lily lately," she said, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the console.
Jason blinked, caught slightly off guard. He and Marissa had barely exchanged more than passing words since they'd come down here.
"Not a complaint," she added quickly. "Just... don't forget you've got another sister too. I get jealous easily."
He smiled, feeling something at ease between them. "I'll make a mental note. The last thing I need is getting caught in a sister war."
Marissa tilted her head, studying him. Her expression softened in a way he hadn't seen since before the collapse.
"You wanna help me prep the pool tomorrow? Clean it up, maybe get it running again. Could use a second pair of hands. And maybe, later… we swim?" She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, a subtle tell that she'd been planning this request.
Jason raised a brow. "So that's why you really came. The sudden visit was just a cover." He felt a small smile tugging at his lips, appreciating her transparency now that her motives were revealed.
Marissa grinned, her posture relaxing. "Busted. But hey…it worked, didn't it?" She leaned against the console, looking more at ease than she had in weeks.
He laughed, the sound surprising him with its genuineness. It echoed briefly in the small room, a reminder of how rarely that happened these days. "Alright. You've got yourself a deal. Tomorrow after breakfast?"
She gave him a small mock salute and turned to leave. "Don't flake on me, brother." There was a lightness to her step that had been absent during their recent passing encounters in the bunker's corridors.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Jason looked back at the static. Still no signal. But suddenly, the silence didn't feel so lonely. He adjusted the dial one more time, more out of habit than hope, and settled back into his chair with a sense of something to look forward to.