Chapter Text
Able's gone.
The words repeated in his head like a chant nonstop and no matter what he did, whether he would try to think about something else, do some research to distract himself or even take a ride through the outlands on his light cycle, they never stopped. Though, after a few cycles, he'd grown used to it.
Tron stood by a window, staring down at the view of the city and its vibrant blue glow, along with a slight orange hue that leaked in from Tesler's base.
Across the city, just barely visible, Able’s Garage could be seen. It used to be one of the brightest buildings in Argon, making it easy to point out but ever since 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 night, it had become dimmer, as if its life had gone right along with Able’s and it now blended into the rest of the cityscape, making it just another building.
Tron bit his thumbnail, waiting for Beck to return from his mission. He had sent him to Argon Square to search for Cyrus's disc.
He initially planned on sending him to the docks, but Tron felt that it would be too much for Beck to handle this soon.
He laid off from giving him any difficult missions. With all that had happened in so little time, Tron really didn't want to overwork Beck, so he stuck to assigning him a few small tasks here and there.
The past few cycles had been hard on Beck. Not only did he somewhat witness Able's death, but his friends blamed him for it too. Tron was surprised by how well Beck had been taking everything, surprised that he was even able to go on a mission at all. Tron insisted that he take a break, but he refused.
The door opened. Tron stopped biting his nail and looked over his shoulder to see Beck standing in the doorway.
Tron was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice his light cycle approaching the hideout.
Beck looked different. His shoulders sagged, his usual facial expression was replaced with a frown, his eyes were half-closed, and he had poor posture. The young program who used to walk through that door full of determination and confidence was now awash with grief.
Tron hated seeing Beck this way. His mind told him to comfort him and at least ask him how he was holding up but the only thing he could say was, "Did you find it?"
Beck sighed. "No, I searched everywhere. I found the bomb you attached to him but… no voxels or disc."
Tron took a deep breath. Ever since that night he had been skeptical about Cyrus’s death. No normal program would be able to survive being electrocuted to the extent that Cyrus was, then again, Cyrus was far from a normal program. The odds of him being alive were just as high as the probability of him being dead.
"Do you think he's still alive?" Beck asked, bringing Tron back to reality.
"The chances that Cyrus survived are slim to nothing. His remains were probably spotted by some guards and disposed of."
"But wouldn't they have disposed of the bomb as well?"
Tron paused for a moment then huffed. "It’s very likely that he’s dead but there’s still a chance that he could be alive. Just in case, we should prepare for the worst."
Beck nodded. "Right. Is there anything else you need me to do?"
"No. You can go ahead and take the rest of the cycle off." Tron said, walking down the steps.
"The rest of the cycle? Are you sure?" Beck said, baffled.
"I think right now you should be spending more time with your friends. You're all hurting, and you need each other more than ever."
"I guess you're right... but what about you?"
"What about me?" Tron said, stopping in front of him before folding his arms.
"You've just been awfully calm about this whole situation."
𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯
Tron had a feeling that Beck would bring this up again. Ever since they first met it seemed like he always tried to get into his head and get him to talk about how he felt. On any other cycle, Tron would give Beck a warning look to try and get him to stop, and on any other cycle, Beck would stop. Though now, Tron's death stares didn't seem to phase him anymore.
Tron unfolded his arms and walked away back towards the steps. Beck rolled his eyes and quickly followed him.
𝘐𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯?
"You have yet to shed a single tear about it." Beck said, walking up next to Tron.
Tron still faced forward and walked up to a screen filled with files and images. He tapped on a few different things, continuing the work he had taken a break from earlier.
"So?"
"𝘚𝘰? Able was one of your closest friends and now he's… now he's gone. Doesn't that bother you?"
"I've lost many friends during my runtime." Tron replied, not taking his eyes off of the screen.
"Yeah, but this is different! You've lost most of your friends to repurposing. At least they’re alive. There's a chance you might be able to see them again and help them, but Able is dead. Tron, you're 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 going to see him again."
Tron stopped his work for a moment, taking in that last sentence. 𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. It repeated in his head. As if 'Able's gone' wasn't enough.
Tron continued. "What exactly is your point here, Beck?"
"Wha- I just explained it to you!" He huffed. "My point is you just lost a very important friend. You've known Able longer than anyone. I just don't understand how you can sit here and act like nothing happened."
The two of them sat in awkward silence for a long moment. Beck opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Tron turning off the screen.
Tron sighed and made eye contact with Beck for the first time since the conversation started. "Look, the truth is, I really don't know how to feel right now. To be honest, none of this feels real. Believe me Beck, I want to be upset, but I just... can't."
Beck looked down. He understood what Tron meant. Just a few cycles ago, he had felt the same way, like nothing was real. Like he was just stuck in a bad dream, hoping he’d wake up the next Cycle to Able lecturing him about sleeping in again.
"It could be that it just hasn't hit you yet." Beck explained. "That's how it was for me. You're probably still processing everything that happened."
"Maybe." Tron said softly.
Beck took a deep breath. The two of them stared out the window for a few long micros, taking in the view.
"Sorry for being pushy earlier. I was just worried." Beck said.
"It's alright, I appreciate your concern. But like I said, you should spend some more time with your friends at the garage."
"I've already spent plenty of time with them. I think you're the one I need to be spending more time with."
"I'm fine Beck, really. Go and be with your friends. If I need anything, I'll let you know."
Beck responded with a nod then headed back toward the door. Tron watched the young mechanic walk toward the exit with a warm smile before shifting his focus to the window again. Just before he left, Beck looked back at Tron. Something deep in his code told him to stay and to chat with Tron a little longer, but he looked away and left.
Tron watched Beck speed towards Argon until he wasn't in sight. Then, without thinking, he moved his eyes toward the docks, just barely visible in the distance.
The voice in his head stopped and his mind went clear for the first time in cycles, and now, all he could hear was one question.
𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?
He shook the thought out of his head. He wasn't ready, and even if he was, the scene was probably all cleaned up by now. There was no point in looking.
Tron stared for a little longer, then turned and began to walk away.
----------
Tron laid in his bed with half his face buried in his pillow, waiting to drift into sleep mode. He felt glad that he didn't have to deal with that voice in his head anymore, but now he dealt with this sudden urge to go to the docks.
He tried his best to ignore it. He shifted onto his other side and took a deep breath through his nose, attempting to fall asleep again.
𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘈 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘦. 𝘌𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘊𝘺𝘳𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦. 𝘕𝘰, 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘊𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘎𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱.
...𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?
Tron opened his eyes then pulled his covers off of himself abruptly. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Great, now he really wouldn't be able to sleep. He glanced around his room without reason, then got up.
He walked over to the window overlooking Argon, which was dimmer now that the curfew was in effect. He looked at the docks again and finally gave in to his urge.
He undocked his disc and pressed a few buttons, when he docked his disc, his stealth suit began to take its form, covering his normal attire.
He made his way out of the base then rezzed his light cycle and drove off toward the docks.
----------
The area had been completely shut off from the public. Large, orange barriers surrounded the whole place, along with some sentry guards patrolling the area. Tron wondered if the occupation was still investigating the scene, and this all but confirmed his suspicions.
Tron rezzed his helmet and began sneaking over to another set of orange barriers, carefully avoiding any passing guards.
The task was more complicated than it seemed. Stealth was one of Tron's specialties, but with the area being so open, he didn't have many things to climb up on or hide behind. For the most part, he just had to run and hope he wouldn't get caught.
Tron finally reached the second set of barriers. He took a few steps back, taking note of how high the barriers stood. They weren't very high, but any typical program wouldn't be able to jump over them.
Suddenly, Tron heard a set of heavy footsteps getting closer to him. One, no, two sentry guards were heading in his direction. The closer they got, the clearer their deep, devilish voices became. He had to think fast.
Without hesitation, Tron jumped over the barriers and landed on the other side as softly as possible. He hid behind one of the barrier posts as the two guards passed by.
"I still don't understand why we have to come back here every night. I mean, a program died, who cares? Programs die every cycle."
"Tell me about it."
The occupation's lack of respect for the lives of civilian programs made the energy in Tron's body boil. The military used to serve and protect programs, but now they don't give two flying grid bugs if anything happened to them. Tron quietly huffed, focusing on the task at hand.
Just as Tron took a step forward, he bumped into something. He shook his head and looked to see a sentry guard standing in front of him.
"Going somewhere, program?"
Tron didn't respond. The sentry gripped onto their light staff with both hands.
"You are in violation of curfew, and are not auth-"
Without warning, Tron kicked the sentry dead in the face. Their armor did nothing to protect them from the force of Tron's kick. They landed on the ground with a thud, knocked out cold.
"Anyway," Tron mumbled under his breath. He took a few steps forward to look at the scene.
What used to be a crane was now a large pile of scraps and damaged code. It was nothing that Tron hadn't seen before, but something about it made him feel uneasy, like he just wanted to get out of there. Usually, Tron would assume that it was just his natural security instincts kicking in, but this was different.
The top of the crane had been completely demolished; only half of it was still standing. Some of the damage had landed in the water while some of it made it onto the pavement. He occasionally moved some scraps around with his foot to see if he could find anything, but he found nothing.
After a while of searching through the debris, he found something. It looked to be a piece of one of the bombs. He picked it up and studied it for a moment. It was a piece of the bomb's screen, where the countdown would've been displayed. As he was digging through the scraps a little more, he found more bomb pieces... and something else.
Tron froze, staring at what he had found.
It was a disc.
Only half of it was exposed. The other half was buried underneath more scraps. He tried to reassure himself. Maybe an unfortunate program was standing too close when the explosion went off.
He reached for the disc, his hand shaking as he grabbed it. He stood up and looked at the disk for a long moment and prayed that it didn't belong to who he thought it did.
When he pressed a button the disc turned on. His eyes slightly widened. The disk projected a holographic silhouette of Able's head.
His mind went blank. He felt no emotion. All of his experiences with Able flashed before him. A near lifelong friendship, taken away from him all because of some maniac that he once trusted.
Tron clenched the disk in his hand. He understood now how he felt. Out from his sea of denial, of avoidance, of pretending everything was okay even if it wasn't... came a new emotion.
Anger.