Title: „Debit and Credit"
Status: One-Shot; Complete
Fandom: Tron: Legacy
Characters: Sam Flynn, Tron/Rinzler
WordCount: 1090
Disclaimer: The big mouse owns half the world, both Tron movies included.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: post-Tron: Legacy; hint at slash – blink and you miss it
Beta: The great snare-chan! Thank you so much, again and again!
Summary: The sight of Rinzler and a Light Disc burning at his throat greeted Sam as he woke up. Tron had vanished again, leaving him to deal with C.L.U.'s enforcer...
AN: Please R&R
Note: Next One-Shot, C.L.U./Rinzler, soon to follow...
Debit and CreditSam woke up, but didn't open his eyes because he instantly realized that something was wrong.
Two things tipped him off: One, the tower room should have been silent, aside from the faint hum that was unique to the Grid, but instead a low, rumbling purr filled his ears. Second, an uncomfortable weight rested on his sternum, making it hard to suck in air.
Goodbyesweetdreamsandwelcometoreality, Sam thought wryly. He had a pretty good idea what to expect and mentally prepared himself. Losing his cool now could be his last mistake. Slowly, he opened his eyes.
The sight of Rinzler greeted him. The program crouched over him, one knee resting on Sam's breastbone, and the other leg firmly planted on the bed besides his blanket covered body. That position wasn't quite as worrisome as the Light Disc burning at Sam's throat; it was a blinding crimson light in the surrounding darkness. Aside from the red-orange circuitry, it was the only source of light, mapping out parts of the black bodysuit the program wore, the pillow and not much more. Of course, the room was sparsely furnished to begin with, so there was really nothing to see.
Sam remembered that he needed to breathe and felt blood trickling down his skin. He could smell its copper tinge in the sterile air, as some drops evaporated in the sizzling edge of the Disc. Sam didn't flinch as the pressure increased because that would be really stupid, considering, and might set Rinzler off.
"User," the program growled, but the word wavered with sudden uncertainty, as the gaze behind the helmet's visor seemed drawn to the blood.
Sam could read the signs by now; this was hardly the first time this had happened, after all. He took as deep a breath as possible to steel his resolve and then, carefully, raised his hand from the bed cover to put it over Rinzler's. He didn't try anything besides that, like foolishly wrestling the weapon out of the firm grip, and only let his fingers rest there.
Rinzler's posture hunched over. Sam could feel the tremors rushing through the programs body, but it didn't pull away or slit his throat open. A flicker of white rushed through Rinzler's circuitry, draining away and returning strong and steady. Sam took it as the signal to lightly guide the armed hand away. Its grip loosened with a shudder and the deactivating Light Disc landed on the dark floor tiles with a clatter.
"Tron."
The jet black helmet derezzed in a shift of rectangular shapes and revealed a pale, familiar face. Tron's eyes looked almost silver in their eerie brightness and Sam knew he was as close to tears as a program could get.
Tron shifted, so that his weight settled solely on the bed, but Sam could feel how coiled for further action his muscles were. He reached out and grabbed his wrist.
"You don't get to run," he chided lightly. "There's no reason, anyway."
Tron's laugh was all harsh edges and short lived. "I could have killed you, Sam," he said matter-of-fact, with an out of place sneer on his lips. "I'm a danger to you... and the system."
Sam knew that the former admission pained him, but the latter was truly crushing for the security program. Tron fought for the Users, would die protecting the Grid - that was his first directive and core programming. It was the function and value he defined himself by. Tron was so utterly human in that respect: in his guilt, anger and roiling darkness, all of which was turned against himself. Not daring to wish or hope anymore, but still wanting to redeem himself somehow...
"I'm fine."
"Says the bleeding man."
Sam hated that flat tone with a passion. He hated this. They'd had variations of this conversation for whole cycles now and they were both growing tired of it, of being stuck. If they were not careful, that could lead to no words left to say.
Nevertheless, Sam decided to speak up. He always did because if he allowed the silence to stretch for too long, he knew Tron would fill it with all the ugly things he thought he deserved to hear.
"Do you have any idea how many things we all 'could have' done? All those 'what ifs' and 'had I's'? If you start thinking like that then you'll never again do anything at all."
"Maybe that would be better," Tron said, and avoided Sam's eyes in favor of the panoramic window. The city stretched out to the horizon, illuminated in white and cyan, and bustled with life. But all the security program could see was the damage done. By Rinzler.
Sam was done pulling his punches for the night. "Yeah, all those programs being derezzed for nothing, that would really be an improvement."
Tron's head snapped around.
"You could have died in the Sea of Simulation – why didn't you? Why do you keep fighting? Why do you help me rebuild the system? That's not Rinzler. That's your decision, you being yourself. What you did as C.L.U.'s enforcer can't be undone, but it doesn't destroy everything Tron ever did, either."
Tron's smile was bitter. "Are you trying to tell me that the account is settled?"
Sam rolled his eyes at him.
"I'm trying to tell you that there isn't one to balance out in the first place!"
Tron just stared back, unconvinced, but the anger slowly drained away. And then the program froze as gray eyes widened and settled on the drying blood on Sam's skin. Tron reached for it, sweeping a fingertip through the sticky liquid.
The brief contact made Sam shiver, as it reminded him of why he lay here naked to begin with.
Tron rubbed his fingers together, considering. He was silent for a long time.
"You are right," he finally stated with a wondering undertone, as if something had just unexpectedly fallen into place. "There is... much we have yet to accomplish."
"Rinzler might make that difficult," Sam reminded, as gentle as possible.
"He is... my past. I- I won't let him be my future."
Sam knew that it wouldn't be quite that easy, but he had no problem taking this one step at a time. He grinned up at Tron, mouthing 'that's what I keep telling you' around a sudden yawn.
Tron just shook his head with fond exasperation, not bothering to hide his tentative smile, and slipped back under the covers beside him.
End
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