Jason entered the dining area, surprised to find everyone already gathered at the table. Even Richard had emerged from whatever corner of the bunker he'd been hiding in all day. The smell of pasta sauce and garlic bread filled the room—a small luxury from their bunker life.
"Look who finally decided to join us," Marissa said, gesturing to the empty chair beside her. "We were about to send a search party."
"Sorry," Jason said, sliding into his seat. "Lost track of time."
The table looked different somehow. Maybe it was the way Lily had arranged actual place settings, or how Elaine had found a fake plant to serve as a centerpiece. Whatever it was, the effect was almost normal—like they were having dinner in their old house instead of buried beneath the earth.
"Mom made garlic bread," Lily said, passing the basket. "Real butter, too."
Jason took a piece, catching his mother's eye across the table. She looked... radiant. The usual tension in her shoulders had eased, and there was a color in her cheeks that hadn't been there this morning.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
Marissa glanced between them, a knowing smirk playing at her lips. "Yeah, Mom. How was that massage earlier? Jason didn't strain anything important, did he?"
Jason nearly choked on his bread.
Elaine smiled, stretching her shoulders with a contented sigh. "I feel like new. Jason's hands are magical, he got rid of every knot I had." Her voice carried a lightness that Jason hadn't heard in months. "I slept for two hours afterward. Best nap I've had since we got here."
Lily grinned, leaning forward. "When are you taking new appointments? You know mom's not the only one dealing with sore shoulders from work "
"Oh, get in line," Marissa chimed in, nudging Jason with her elbow. "I think I deserve the next session. Especially after all that work we did in the storage room today."
Jason forced a laugh, playing along despite the heat creeping up his neck. "My schedule's pretty tight, but I'll see what I can do for my very lovely and demanding sisters."
The conversation flowed easily after that…talk of the storage room discoveries, debates about which movie to watch next, Lily's updates from her radio shifts. For a few precious minutes, they were just a family having dinner, the weight of their circumstances momentarily lifted.
Then Jason noticed Richard looking up from his plate.
His father's gaze moved deliberately around the table, settling briefly on each of them. There was no anger in his expression, no judgment…just quiet, methodical observation. His eyes lingered on Elaine, then shifted to Jason with an intensity that made Jason's stomach tighten. It wasn't accusatory, exactly, but calculating…as if he were solving an equation none of them could see.
The moment passed as quickly as it had come. Richard returned to his meal without comment, cutting his pasta with the same precision he applied to everything.
No one else seemed to notice, but Jason felt how the air in the room suddenly changed. He took another bite of food, suddenly tasteless in his mouth. What had his father seen? What was he thinking behind that impassive mask?
The conversation continued around him, but Jason couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed…that Richard had awoken from whatever emotional reclusion had claimed him since they'd arrived.
———————❖———————
Jason woke with a start, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat despite the bunker's regulated temperature. The digital clock on his nightstand read 6:42 AM. Too early to be up, but too late to try falling back asleep. He'd spent most of the night tossing and turning, his mind replaying the same moment over and over—his father's eyes, clinical and cold, moving deliberately around the dinner table, lingering just a beat too long on each of them.
He rubbed his face and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Whatever Richard had been thinking, it couldn't be good. His father had been a ghost for weeks, present but never really there. Now suddenly he was watching. Observing. Like they were specimens under glass.
By the time Jason made it to breakfast, everyone else was already seated. The familiar scene of family normalcy played out before him: Lily buttering toast, Marissa slouched in her chair, Elaine pouring coffee. Richard sat at his usual spot, hands folded on the table, staring at nothing in particular.
"The only thing I won't get tired of is butter" Lily announced, scraping the knife against the nearly empty container.
Marissa yawned dramatically. "I vote we skip chores today. Mental health day."
"That's not how this works," Elaine replied with a small smile, setting a mug in front of Jason. "Did anyone see that twist coming at the end of the movie? I certainly didn't."
Jason nodded absently, his attention fixed on Richard. There was something different about his father this morning. The usual vacant stare had been replaced by something more focused. His jaw muscles worked silently, clenching and unclenching. He wasn't just checked out…he was thinking and calculating.
Halfway through the meal, Richard looked up and scanned the table. His gaze moved deliberately from face to face before settling on Jason.
"Jason," he said, his voice startlingly clear in the room. "I'd like to speak with you privately today…in my workroom. Sometime before dinner."
The conversation died instantly. Jason felt every eye at the table turn toward him.
Elaine looked up sharply. "Is something wrong?" The concern in her voice was unmistakable.
Richard shook his head, his expression giving nothing away. "No. Just something I need to discuss with him."
Without another word, he stood, picked up his coffee mug, and walked out of the room. His footsteps echoed down the corridor, fading into silence.
Jason sat frozen, fork suspended halfway to his mouth. What the hell was that? His mind raced through possibilities, each worse than the last. What could his father possibly want with him after weeks of barely acknowledging his existence?
Did he somehow sense something about the pool moment with Marissa? No…there was nothing really there. Just teasing. Just a little flirting, maybe. But still...
Or was it about the massage? His mother had thanked him openly, even praised him. Nothing wrong happened. But maybe Richard noticed how he looked at her? Fuck, was he that obvious?
Maybe it had nothing to do with that. Maybe Richard just thought he was not doing enough at the bunker. Or maybe the man had finally started caring again…and this was his way of checking in. A one-on-one meeting, behind a closed door. The kind of conversation that made your stomach twist because you didn't know what version of him you were going to get.
Whatever. What's the worst that could happen? Right?