Chapter Text
A blank white paper with a perfect square, with an even more perfect check mark in the center. Zane could picture it perfectly in his mind. Right next to his recently completed task.
The house was clean, his English and maths homework was done, and all that was left was history. That was an assignment left unchecked, along with cooking dinner and telling his dad about it. Zane sighed, opening his eyes and bringing himself back to reality. Gone was the list in his mind, now replaced with the white desk in front of him. He looked around at his room, at the bed he made that morning and the school supplies littered in front of him. Zane picked up his math and English homework and put it in a blue and red folder, respectively, before sliding them both smoothly into his backpack. He packed away his pens and pencils into their case and walked out of his room, a sudden desperation to get out. He needed a break from homework, and as usual, his break would be in the kitchen, to cook dinner.
Zane always took it upon himself to cook. It was easier for him to get around the kitchen. He could turn the sink faucet without the risk of leaning too forward and falling, he could open the fridge without any struggle at all. Unlike his dad…
“Son!” Zane’s head whipped around when he was called. He walked out of his room, walking into the hallway, darting through the kitchen-
Zane’s dark eyes glanced to the sink as he passed it. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he added “wash dishes” to his mental to-do list.
He opened the white metal door that led from the tiled kitchen to the freezing cold garage. It was largest part of the house, probably bigger than the kitchen. The wall opposite to the door had a long white table along the entirety of it, one end with a bright white lamp, the middle piled high with tools, and the other end completely empty.
“Dad?” Zane asked with an exhale. Dr. Julian turned on the red stool that sat near the middle of the table. A cherry red screwdriver in hand and a turtle-shaped clock on the white plastic table near him. Dr. Julian was a genius, not only able to bring his own ideas to life, but the ideas from the imaginations of others. Even with the simplest or worst explanations, he could turn a vision into a physical object.
Julian used to create animatronics for amusement parks. There was a time when mechanical dancing boys and singing birds used to litter the house and garage before they were shipped off to bring joy to other children. That was years ago, though, back when Julian’s hair was thick and gray instead of thinning and white, before his eyes grew unwillingly tired, even the spark that his son brought out couldn’t light it for him. Love grows, but so do people, after all.
Since the theme parks were nothing but successful, besided the occasional glitch in the robot, Dr. Julian had taken on smaller jobs over the years, things that were easier for his shaking hands and blurring vision. This week, he was to repair a turtle clock sent by a client online and send it back. Simple and easy, which set Zane at ease.
Dr. Julian adjusted his glasses as he set his eyes on his son. A smile grew on his face when Zane came into vision.
“Heya,” Julian grinned. “You been home long?” Zane’s face softened from it’s neutral state.
“A couple hours ago,” he explained. “I guess you did not hear the door…” Zane stepped down the few stairs that led from the house to the garage, walking to the white table. He crossing his arms and leaning his hip on it. Julian’s brows furrowed at the realization. His smile faltered.
“Oh…” he looked down. “Sorry, these old ears, ha…” he waved the red handle of the screwdriver near his left ear. “Or maybe I was just too focused on this thing.” he looked to the turtle. Zane squinted at the green faux animal.
Zane hummed. “No,” he started. “You were right the first time. You are old.” he smirked and his dad took the screwdriver and hit his elbow.
“Watch it!” his dad scolded with a smile. “I just meant my ears.” Zane may have been joking, but he was right. His dad was getting older…
The doctor cleared his throat. “Uh, I was thinking, what if we ordered take out tonight?” he suggested. “You can call and I’ll walk and pick it up-”
“I already took chicken out.” Zane cut him off. The last thing he needed was his dad who could barely walk even with a cane, going out and carrying a bunch of things back home. “I- I am making pasta with it.” he shrugged. Julian blinked, tilting his head.
“Oh…” he muttered. “Are you sure?” Zane nodded.
“I was just about to start it,” he slid off the table and pointed to the kitchen.
“Do you want me to do it-” Julian was already rising from his seat, but Zane waved his hand.
“No, no,” he insisted. They had a routine. Zane cooks and cleans, and Julian does his work. It’s easy. His dad deserves easy. “You can focus, I will handle it.” Julian sat back down.
“Alright…” Zane knew his dad wanted to help, but at the end of the day, he liked how things worked in the house. After years of Julian taking care of Zane, it was his turn to step up. Zane nodded and turned to exit the garage. “Zane,” Julian called, stopping his son in his tracks. The light of the lamp left a perfect white line on the edge of Julian’s glasses, reflecting in the eyes that were so much like Zane’s.
The boy wondered if this could be a mirror. Would he live to be this old one day? Would he have someone like his dad had him, or would he be alone?
He blinked the thoughts away. Zane preferred to think of the now, leaving tomorrow's worries for tomorrow. It didn’t even matter if he had someone to take care of him one day, because he was here for his dad. And he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Yeah, Dad?” Julian breathed out of his nose.
“Thank you,” he told his son. “You’re too good of a kid, son.” Zane could feel his face warm from the compliment. His dad told him this all the time, but it never got easier to hear. Zane smiled, his shoulders rising and his arms crossing as whispered a thanks to his dad. He rubbed his biceps before walking out and leaving Julian alone in the garage.
Dinner.
Cooked.
Homework.
Done.
Dishes.
Washed.
Stupid movie?
On.
“This girl needs to stop thinking of these boys and focus on her career,” Julian commented, stuffing his mouth with the chicken Zane had made. “Who cares if one is funny and one is serious?”
“I know…” Zane rolled his eyes. “If I made a device that could save an entire city, I would focus on perfecting it, not on my future husband.” Zane finished the last of his pasta. He stood up and walked to his dad, taking his empty plate.
“Thank you,” Julian told him. He leaned forward, watching his son disappear behind the wall of the living room as he walked to the kitchen. The sink turned on for a few minutes, then off, then Zane’s footsteps made their way back to the darkened living room.
Pairing dinner with a movie was an almost nightly tradition for the Julian household. They had a perfectly good kitchen table they could eat at- Zane would know, he wiped it down just yesterday- but they had always eaten on the couch. Ever since Zane could remember, it was how they ate dinner. Only on special occasions, they would eat at the dining table, and even those nights ended with them in the glow of the television.
The pair would take turns taking up the couch- usually it was Julian but tonight, Zane laid on the couch, stretching his long legs along the length of it, bending his knees so he wouldn’t have to rest his feet on his father.
The light haired man on the television teared up, holding his girlfriend as she laid dying in his arms. He shouted as he begged his already dead woman to stay with him.
“This actor has some bills due…” Julian commented, his arms crossed as he slumped into the couch. Zane snorted and inspected the screen, and suddenly laughed even more. “Now, Zane,” Julian looked at his son. “How could you laugh at this poor girl's death?” he teased.
“Because this actress is not even trying!” he snorted. “Look at her stomach- she is obviously breathing- and her eyes!” he pointed to the screen. Julian squinted, leaning forward to see what his son was seeing.
“Oh…” he elongated the word. “She is fluttering her eyes…” Zane rolled his eyes again, interlacing his fingers and setting them on his stomach. It never mattered how bad the movie was or how much they made fun of it- a tradition was a tradition.
And a routine is a routine.
Zane sobered as he went over his routine for the next day: Make sure Dad takes his medicine. Make breakfast, he could reheat some frozen breakfast burritos and brew some coffee. Then, at school, he can get some homework done during lunch. Once he could go home, throw something in the crockpot- no, dad might insist on takeout. Pizza. He decided to order pizza. Then the rest of his homework, and… nothing. The house had been cleaned all week, and unless his teachers all decided to torture the him class, he would have an entire weekend free.
Zane looked up at the ceiling, his eyes heavy as the apparently, completely fine girl on the screen finally confessed her love for the comic relief. The last time he had an entire weekend free of homework and housework, he had just started high school. He spent the free hours helping his dad in the garage and napping.
There was not much else that he loved.
Zane always did what he needed, homework and helping his dad. It was how life worked- at least how it did for him. Zane didn’t have time for hobbies; friends would be a distraction from what he had to do, from what he should do.
He took one last glance at the trio on screen, a group that had transitioned from a feuding love triangle to a happy friend group. Zane wondered what that would be like- not being part of a love triangle, he would probably end up ripping his hair out. But to have people to hang out with. A community. If he talks to people his age, it’s for school projects. If he doesn’t have to do it, he won’t. But what if he wanted to?
He shut his eyes. The less curious he was, the better.
•••
Zane woke up to a soft pressure on his head, as if a strong leaf from the autumn trees fell perfectly on his curls. His eyes opened, and he was greeted by his father smiling at him. Julian was kneeling on the ground, one hand on his son’s shoulder and tapping it with his thumb.
“‘Mornin’,” Julian spoke softly. Zane looked down, his body covered with a thick quilt, periwinkle and navy blue stars dancing across the white fabric. He groaned.
“Ugh…” Zane yawned. “I’m sorry,” he rubbed his eyes and rubbed his cheek with the heel of his hand. Julian laughed. His son had ancient eyes and a mind older than his, but right now, he looked like his little boy.
“You don’t have to apologize for sleeping.” Julian moved out of the way so his son could slide off the couch.
His routine was already on unsteady ground. No breakfast, no-
“Dad-” Zane moved back to the living room, rushing to his dad to help him off the ground. “Dad, did you take your meds yet?”
“Not yet,” he shook his head, patting his son’s hand in thanks. “I’ll take it after-”
“I will make breakfast,” Zane told him, his voice still slow with sleep. “There are burritos” he reached into the ice box on top of the fridge. “Here!” he pulled two out of the box and moved to the microwave.
“I already started some coffee,” Julian steadily walked to the kitchen, his cane helping him across the wooden floors. “Why don’t you go shower, I’ll…” Julian wanted to make breakfast, but Zane beat him to it. The microwave was already on and the food was spinning inside.
“Good idea,” Zane huffed. “I can walk to school,” he passed his dad on his way to his bedroom, patting him on the shoulder as he did. “Hope you get the clock finished today.” Zane glanced back at the couch, adding “fold blanket” to his list. Once again, his dad took care of him. Now it was Zane’s job to make things easy for him.