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“We’re home.” Tron turns to her with a radiant smile, barely able to process the moment.
He did not have to run anymore, the fight was over. He – the whole system – was 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦.
They were home. Somewhere neither of them ever imagined they would see again. Its crystalline walls and inviting seating structures felt like a mirage to the weary pairing.
Tron went first as if they were stepping into danger. The shock of the moment brought him back to old habits.
Fear had no concern for what was rational, it took and corrupted what should’ve been the happiest moment. He couldn’t shake the feeling he would be taken from her all over again.
They were safe, there was no threat. He pulled her quickly inside after him.
He squeezed her hand tighter than he had anticipated, forgetting his own strength as he tended to. She winced and he immediately let up, mouthing an already forgiven apology.
Seeing her smile confused more than it had delighted him. She squeezed back with a reassuring smile which he did his best to return. 𝘖𝘩 𝘠𝘰𝘳𝘪, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶?
It was funny, after wanting nothing but this for so long neither of them were quite sure how to feel.
What a funny feeling. The giddiness of homecoming.
The two walked parallel through the home, delirious in the pleasure of each other's company. Everything was as it should be and it was all so overwhelming.
Yori tried to contain herself, to not break down beside him but it was all so much to process. She felt as though she could run for cycles without the need for rest. She felt like she might buckle right there in the hall.
Yori never thought she would see home again. Her thoughtless existence in the factory domain had ensured that.
She had existed for so long on so little that its absence – 𝘩𝘪𝘴 absence– had never reached her as it should have. She could remember little of that time but felt the loss as if it were new.
~
The pair diverged once they reached the central living space. Yori immediately brought herself to one of the many lounges situated In the middle of the floor. Viewed from above they formed a near perfect square.
This was the comfort she had tried to emulate back in the other domain, with the little energy afforded to her she could only produce a pale comparison.
She draped herself across the cushion and practically fell into them. So soft and inviting and familiar.
“Having fun?” She watched him from the lounge bemused.
A laugh escaped from her and it was real for the first time in a long while. Entirely unaltered by nerves.
There was no answer from him. He was too busy examining every open portion of the room. Wandering endlessly from structure to art piece with a delicate grin.
He hesitated before touching one of the undecorated panels on the wall. The room filled with a soft synthesized song.
He looked over his shoulder with a sheepish smile. His circuits flush with embarrassment as if his inspection was not understandable.
She could hardly believe it either, no matter how much she wished to say she did. Their home was again filled with music, happiness and purpose.
She smiled brightly. Her circuits illuminated in a bold display of her delight. She held out her hand for him and he was quickly at her side.
“What?” He stifled a laugh. “What is it?” He worshiped her smile. It washed all doubt from his mind.
“Nothing,” she hummed and pulled herself upright.
They sat facing each other with his hands on her shoulders. They fell slowly down to her waist tracing the contours of her render as if committing her to memory.
He held her like there was no better object. She leaned coyly into his touch.
“Nothing at all.”
She held his face in her hands caressing his cheek with her thumb. Slowly he was brought down to her, over her, with her, until their noses met and circuits touched blossoming into a sweet lavender.
Yori kissed him for the second time. An urgent and passionate thing, as it had been on the mesa.
A bizarre gift from infinity. This new way to display affection was 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘴 alone, strange and dazzling as it was.
—
The system was remarkably resilient. Life returned to long abandoned domains, information flowed freely, and purpose was abundant. The IO towers again shone into infinity. A sign that all was as it should be. As 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥.
It moved on so quickly it all made the MCP seem like a blip. A glitch. Something long since forgotten.
Yori found it easier to think about it that way. Some feelings were left best unexplored, opening old wounds felt… 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦. Yori was operative and so was Tron. That is all that matters.
It was easy to ignore what could barely count for memories. She returned home to nothing but the bliss and warmth of knowing they had won.
What use would accessing old memory files do? What was there for her in that factory but the slow march towards eventual deresolution?
“You’re back,”
“Hey,” Tron replied in his usually breathy manner.
“That’s all you have to say?”
She was beaming, a radiant figure. Her hands reached up into her braid and began to untangle it without breaking her eyes from his.
“No I…”
Her hair erupted into flowing golden waves that framed her face. Her grin was devilish, she knew what she was doing. How she captured him absolutely.
“No…” he squeaked, stunned into a boyish silence.
Tron reached absently for his disc as he tried to ignore her giggling. He kept his disc undocked at home, separating himself from it whenever he had the opportunity.
His face was a bluish-gray blush as he cast it aside. It’s path is precise but thoughtless and all but impressive to him. It landed on the lounge with a distinct hum.
He watched her eyes follow it across the room with a frown. She was thinking about it again…He did not see his prowess with the disc. All he saw was her but she was already gone.
“Yori,” he said.
It was happening more often.
A side effect of her running for so long on so little. Seeing her unresponsive even for a few nanos worried him. He knew she would be able to regulate normally in time but that did not make it better.
He tossed aside his helmet just as easily as his disc. It wasn’t needed here.
He approached her slowly and placed a warm hand on her shoulder. Ready to give, if needed.
“Tron!” She gasped. His touch jostled her out of it. He was unsure if it was flattering or not.
“I’m sorry… I,” her eyes shift to the disc on the lounge. A soft frown on her lips.
“Don’t be,” he smiled ruefully.
Yori buried her face in the crook of his neck, lighting it with her touch. His head rests against hers and they fit perfectly as if one was 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 for the other.
She wished she could ignore it like Tron had pretended to. What had they done to him for his cast to be so perfect?
“How was your shift?” Her hand reached up into his wild hair trying to tame it half heartedly. Her mind was elsewhere.
“Good.” His smile returned.
“What would us other functions do without you here to monitor things?”
She had meant it lightly. Not considering the very real reality that had been before this moment. Being with Tron made her forget how awful things could be.
“You don't have to worry about that.”
“Don't I?”
“Not anymore.”
—
His disc was off but never far. She could see it with her eyes closed and her back turned. Yori buried herself beneath their sheets, actually making use of the decoration, and tried to forget about it.
It was so much easier to ignore pain she could not remember than what she saw in Tron. He tried to deny it so often but it was there. He was never any good at hiding things from her.
It’s hum broke through the stillness of her rest jolting her awake and shortening her already brief sleep cycle.
It called to her.
She jumped from the bed to the floor as if animated by her own curiosity. It was in her nature to learn, she wanted to know what they did to him. No. She 𝘩𝘢𝘥 to know.
She went to it.
The disc remained on the couch humming with unutilized power. It sat there waiting… 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. Yori leaned closer and could see herself in its blazing surface. It was almost beautiful.
He was behind her the second her finger brushed the side of it. There by instinct to protect what had been a vital part of him for so long.
She pretended not to hear him and turned the disc over in her hands. It reacted to her touch so similarly to Tron. Its heat yielded to her touch. She touched each ring watching them glow.
A brittle laugh leaves her filled with disbelief. It felt like him. It really, earnestly, did. Her hands throbbed beneath the familiar flow of energy.
It was a tangible backup drive. They had been forced to fight 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 their lives. Sark had made the weapon that would end his master.
“It’s heavier than you make it look,” she turned to him. Her attempted joke failed to garner laughter from either of them.
“You’ve carried it for so long, isn’t it time to let go? You’re 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“…Let me see.”
She looked up at him with those pleading eyes caught with curiosity and worry. She wanted to help him as he had her.
“Please.”
Tron turned obediently. He allowed her to examine him, knowing she would realize what he could not bring himself to say.
It was a congested mess. She could not tell where one circuit ended and another began. His back was covered in thick blocks of code that exploded from his shoulders like a virus.
They weren’t always like this, she could remember when he was new and she could trace them like a web across his render.
These weren’t light lines. Even without the disk user believers were so easily identified and derezzed. Never Tron, no her Tron was smarter than the Reds. Better than them in every way.
Her fingers hover inches away from them and she reveled in the static caught between her fingers.
Starting at the base of his neck she traces her way down allowing her curiosity to again get the better of her. He shuttered beneath her, fully clothed but never more bare.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” he scrambled to reply. She had meant the alterations.
“…not as much as it used to.” He corrected himself.
“Can’t you change them?”
“No.”
“But you want to.”
“…Yes” he closed his eyes.
“It’s a part of me now Yori, I can’t change my code anymore than you can.”
“It’s a 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥.”
“And I’m not the only free program stuck with one,” he grumbled. He stared blankly at the wall ahead of him.
“There should be more of us… if I had acted sooner then maybe—”
“Tron…”
He resisted the urge to turn for as long as he had.
There was a face many did not get to see. Tron, the champion of the User believers, defeated.
“I want to do more than just stare at it. There has to be something I can do? I could ask—.”
Her grip tightened on the disc, threatening to snap it. If such a thing was possible. Users willing. Tron shook his head.
It wasn’t fair. He had survived hadn’t he?! He freed the entire system, the least reward he could receive was being completely freed!
She could not fathom how restrictive the lines on his back had become. How it hadn’t driven him insane.
“I’m not sure I could part with it, even if it was possible. Alan-one had recoded parts of it, giving me what I needed to destroy the MCP. It’s been 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥, getting rid of it… it would- it would be like forsaking him.”
Seeing the sincerity stretched across his brow she had abandoned the thoughts of destruction. She sighed and smiled.
“Then I’ll take care of it. Just like I do for you,” she kissed the disc softly and held it out to him. Tron turned, allowing her to redock it into place. She met his eyes and began.