INT. JASON'S CUBE – EARLY MORNING
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The door creaks open—just a sliver at first.
Jason slides in like a guilty cat caught stealing, every servo moving at a snail’s pace, optics flicking nervously around the room.
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The cube is dim. Quiet.
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Too quiet.
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Jason grimaces, muttering to himself.
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JASON (whispering)
"Death... by hug? Death... by frying pan? What's it gonna be?"
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Before he can even think about escape, a figure moves.
A stands up from the bed, trench coat sloppily hanging off one shoulder, and strides towards him with a serious, unreadable expression.
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Jason instinctively steps back, hands half-raised like he’s expecting a punch—
—but instead, A wraps him into a full-on bear hug. Tight.
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Jason freezes.
Optics wide.
Motor functions temporarily non-existent.
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A’s taller than him—just enough that Jason’s face ends up muffled awkwardly against A’s chest, buried in the rough fabric of the coat and the smooth surface underneath.
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Behind them, K leans against the wall in the corner, arms crossed, leather jacket catching the dim light. He rolls his eyes but says nothing.
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A (grumbling, low)
"You idiot. You absolute idiot. Do you even know how worried we were?"
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Jason muffles a protest into A’s chestplate, arms pinned to his sides like a trapped kitten.
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JASON (muffled)
"I—I'm fine?! Let me—breathe—"
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A holds tighter for another second before finally pulling back just a little—still keeping a hand gripping Jason's jacket like he’s afraid he'll vanish again.
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Jason, utterly flustered, tries to regain something resembling dignity.
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JASON (clearing throat, awkwardly)
"Uh. Yeah. Sorry. About that. HQ situation was... y'know, kinda exploded. Literally."
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A glares at him, optics narrowed in clear, unamused fury.
Jason awkwardly pats A’s shoulder.
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JASON (rambling, desperately)
"But I’m good! See? Mostly not exploded! Just... overheated, got scraped, washed down like a busted hover-cycle, almost melted—normal Tuesday stuff. Totally fine."
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K snorts in the corner, muttering.
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K (dryly)
"Sounds about right for this household."
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A finally lets Jason go, stepping back with a huff.
Jason immediately puts both hands on his hips and breathes like he just escaped a black hole.
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JASON (grinning, shaky)
"Next time, I'll send you a postcard from hell. 'Wish you were here, bring coolant.'"
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A crosses his arms but the tension's gone from his frame.
Jason can tell—underneath the grumbling and the frown—A was seriously, genuinely worried.
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Jason’s grin softens just a fraction.
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JASON (quiet, genuine)
"...Thanks, though. For caring."
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K raises a hand lazily.
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K (mocking)
"I didn’t care."
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Jason side-eyes him.
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JASON
"Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that, leather boy."
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K smirks, unfazed.
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Jason finally kicks off his boots and collapses onto the bed, exhausted.
A hovers nearby like a stubborn guardian, refusing to sit down until Jason does something completely normal—like eat or sleep properly.
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For the first time in hours, Jason lets himself relax.
Even if he's absolutely gonna get micro-managed to death for the next three days.
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He could live with that.
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FADE OUT.
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