(no subject)
Title: Wrench in the Gears
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Tron, Rinzler
Wordcount: Not counted
Summary: Sam Flynn is not his father.
Sam Flynn is not his father. He may seem to be like him, but the amount that they do not have in common vastly outpaces what they do. Sam Flynn does not fancy himself a Creator. He does not like to play God, he has no extraordinary drive to create anything other than trouble and inconvenience. He is a wrench in the gears, not the man who makes the gears.
It is strange, then, that here he is, deep in the catacombs of the arcade, creating something. He didn't do much to alter the code of the Grid. It was a thing of beauty that his father created, and Sam wasn't about to tear it down and build it up himself. There were still lives in there, programs, maybe surviving ISOs. There was still his father, and there was still Tron. Rinzler.
It was simpler than he thought it would be, retrieving and reassembling the lost code that was his father. Quorra helped, and between the two of them, Flynn lives. He can't leave, something essential in him was lost in the reintegration, but it isn't a bad life, the one he has. He cannot get out, but the ones he love can get in.
Tron, though, is a beast of a completely different name. Sam hunts through the system for his code, and finds him slumbering at the bottom of the Sea of Simulation. He goes in himself in a specially written sub to retrieve him. He won't trust anyone else with this. He pulls Tron out of the sea, and then pulls him out of the system entirely. He sets him to rest in a clean system, and he gets to work creating.
Tron was damaged, badly. All those cycles under the thumb of Clu 2 has harmed him. But Sam has data from older copies of Tron, the knowledge of his father, and a special, unique brand of cunning. He isn't just trying to revive Tron, trying to fix him. He's trying to split him in two. Because when he looks at the code, he can see more than just Tron. He can see his reflection in a shiny helmet, can hear a low purr, feel a gaze on his back, can feel the plea for help.
So it takes him a while, piecing together Tron and pulling Rinzler out, and building them both up from what they're missing. He has to make intuitive leaps with Rinzler, and has to delve into hours of research with Tron. It's hard work, and it takes a while. Flynn will go for many cycles missing his friend, but Flynn is ageless now, and so too is Tron, so Sam isn't worried.
When Flynn sees Tron for the first time in years, he sees a grinning face, and feels an arm slung around his shoulder. Decades are immediately erased from existence, and it feels like home here, again. He has had years to learn this, to understand Tron, and to understand himself.
When Sam sees Rinzler for the first time, ever, he extends a hand carefully, unsure of this unknown quantity, wary of what might lurk in the dark recesses of this being. The handsom, almost-Alan, almost-Tron brushes aside the hand, and Sam feels a forehead on his shoulder, a soft purr, and suddenly he understands his father a lot better.
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Tron, Rinzler
Wordcount: Not counted
Summary: Sam Flynn is not his father.
Sam Flynn is not his father. He may seem to be like him, but the amount that they do not have in common vastly outpaces what they do. Sam Flynn does not fancy himself a Creator. He does not like to play God, he has no extraordinary drive to create anything other than trouble and inconvenience. He is a wrench in the gears, not the man who makes the gears.
It is strange, then, that here he is, deep in the catacombs of the arcade, creating something. He didn't do much to alter the code of the Grid. It was a thing of beauty that his father created, and Sam wasn't about to tear it down and build it up himself. There were still lives in there, programs, maybe surviving ISOs. There was still his father, and there was still Tron. Rinzler.
It was simpler than he thought it would be, retrieving and reassembling the lost code that was his father. Quorra helped, and between the two of them, Flynn lives. He can't leave, something essential in him was lost in the reintegration, but it isn't a bad life, the one he has. He cannot get out, but the ones he love can get in.
Tron, though, is a beast of a completely different name. Sam hunts through the system for his code, and finds him slumbering at the bottom of the Sea of Simulation. He goes in himself in a specially written sub to retrieve him. He won't trust anyone else with this. He pulls Tron out of the sea, and then pulls him out of the system entirely. He sets him to rest in a clean system, and he gets to work creating.
Tron was damaged, badly. All those cycles under the thumb of Clu 2 has harmed him. But Sam has data from older copies of Tron, the knowledge of his father, and a special, unique brand of cunning. He isn't just trying to revive Tron, trying to fix him. He's trying to split him in two. Because when he looks at the code, he can see more than just Tron. He can see his reflection in a shiny helmet, can hear a low purr, feel a gaze on his back, can feel the plea for help.
So it takes him a while, piecing together Tron and pulling Rinzler out, and building them both up from what they're missing. He has to make intuitive leaps with Rinzler, and has to delve into hours of research with Tron. It's hard work, and it takes a while. Flynn will go for many cycles missing his friend, but Flynn is ageless now, and so too is Tron, so Sam isn't worried.
When Flynn sees Tron for the first time in years, he sees a grinning face, and feels an arm slung around his shoulder. Decades are immediately erased from existence, and it feels like home here, again. He has had years to learn this, to understand Tron, and to understand himself.
When Sam sees Rinzler for the first time, ever, he extends a hand carefully, unsure of this unknown quantity, wary of what might lurk in the dark recesses of this being. The handsom, almost-Alan, almost-Tron brushes aside the hand, and Sam feels a forehead on his shoulder, a soft purr, and suddenly he understands his father a lot better.