"BECK!" Tron screamed, his core froze in icy fear as he ran towards Beck, diving for his arm that disappeared over the edge. His fingers brushed against his shoulder before latching on to the younger programs wrist. The stop in force almost pulled Tron over the edge as well. Brown eyes snapped open, staring at him with a shocked expression.

"Give me your other hand!" He commanded in barely masked fear.

"Tron? What are you doing? Let go." Beck grunted as he tried to pull away.

Clutching Beck's arm tighter, he pleaded, "This isn't a time for games Beck! Just give me your hand."

"Please." Desperation bled into Beck's voice, "Just let go."

Tron could feel his control on his emotions slipping.

"Never." Tron said, his voice shaking, "Please, give me your hand. We can talk about this, you don't have to do this."

It was as if a switch flicked and turned on Beck's emotions, just not the ones needed.

"We can't talk about it, no one understands! No one cares!" He exploded.

"I do," Tron protested, voice cracking, "I swear to my user, I care."

Beck furrowed his eyes and cracked a thoughtful half smile, which frightened Tron more than he wanted to admit.

"It's fitting isn't it?"

The abrupt topic change had Tron narrowing his eyes in confusion and wary curiosity, "What is?"

"This is where we had our first lesson. I didn't make the jump that time and you saved me. Remember?"

Of course he remembered. He remembered Beck's arrogant tone as they raced through the outlands. He remembered the smile he could hear in Beck's voice as he teased Tron. He could recall the annoyance when Beck missed the jump. The worry when the ground beneath Beck fell away. He could still feel the relief when he grabbed Beck's arm. He still recalled the faint amusement at Beck's sarcastic remarks. He still felt the sympathy for the young program who lacked self-confidence. He could remember the disappointment when Beck walked away.

Gripping Beck's arm tighter, he answered with determination,"I saved you then, and I'll save you now."

Beck gave a humorless snort, "And what if I don't want to be saved?"

Tron stared into the Brown eyes below him with a hard, determined gaze. "I'm not asking."

Beck broke eye contact and tried to pry Tron's hand off his wrist, leaving his hand vulnerable to Tron. Beck realized his mistake a second too late, Tron had already seized his wrist and yanked him upwards.

Beck gave a pain filled yell as soon as he landed on the ground.

Tron was over Beck in nanos, his arms were pinned over his head and there was a knee on his chest, with little to no pressure.

"What were you thinking?!" Tron yelled, in fear and worry. He could feel his processors overheating.

Tron stared at Beck's face, only now noticing the cut and bruises on his cheek. He brought one hand up to rub against the cut. "What happened?" He murmured softly.

Beck turned the hurt side of his face away towards the ground, looking at a spot beside Tron.

Tron looked up to where a recognizers light was coming their way. "Come on, we have to get out of here. We are continuing this when we are back at the hideout."

Beck reached to open his own light cycle before a hand on his elbow stopped him.

Tron shook his head, "You're riding with me."

Tron opened his light cycle and climbed on, shooting an expectant look in Beck's direction.

Beck bowed his head and clambered on, avoiding Tron's gaze.

"Ready?" Tron asked before speeding off to the hideout after receiving a nod.

Neither program said anything, both consumed by their thoughts.

A head fell on Tron's shoulder and nuzzled into his neck, Tron shivered from the contact, it was much too cold to be healthy.

He glanced at Beck's face, it was much too pale and had more worry lines than what a young program should have. The bruises on his neck and face had started to turn black, its color a massive contrast to the soft pallor of his skin.

Tron felt something rise in his chest, something rarely felt.

Fear. It was not fear for himself, the revolution or even the grid.

He was terrified for his apprentice. A program so brave and kind that he had a special place in Tron's core. Beck was more than a successor, a mechanic or even Argons renegade.

He became something Tron thought he would never understand. Something Flynn told him all those cycles ago.

A son.

Tron's own son.

=-=–=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=–=-=-=-===-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-

"Well you see, Tron, my son Sam, he's about 6 now, man, he–" Flynn was interrupted by Tron.

"Whats a son?"

"Yeah, um how to explain this. Oh! I know, okay take you and Yori for instance; imagine if you two had a program with a mixture of both of you guys' code. He would look like you two and act somewhat like you as well. Now you and Yori would both protect him even at the expense of the grid. You would do anything for him."

"But I would never sacrifice the grid for the sake of one program."

"Let me finish. Anyways if someone hurt them, you -actually would probably derez the program that hurt him.- I'm getting off track, anyhow their happiness and safety is the most important thing to you."

"I don't get it."

His chuckles echoed in the large room, making Tron look at him as if he were insane.

Arriving at the hideout Tron attempted to wake the younger program. "Beck, get up, we're here."

Receiving no response, Tron gently carried him into med room, laying him softly on the slab, all the while Beck was groaning.

Tron's eyes roamed over his apprentice's body, appalled at the damage that he failed to notice in his panic. The gashes were everywhere, and they were spreading.

No.

"Come on Beck, don't do this!"

Looping Beck's arm over his shoulder Tron, stumbling, heaved Beck to the healing chamber, the white liquid brushing against his fingers as he sprinted to the controls.

Tron's fingers flew across the keyboard tirelessly, entering command after command, the chamber was built for him, not another program, it would be a miracle if it worked on Beck.

"Listen to me, don't you dare die, do you hear me? Don't die."

The computer finally accepted his commands, he could hear the chamber starting up.

Slouching in relief Tron released a sigh,"Thank Alan-one."

Tron stood completely still; the only movement coming from him was the rising of his chest. His thoughts however were racing, cataloging every…single…scar. Every…single… injury. The bags under Beck's eyes, the ashen bruised face. Scanning the frayed wrist. Not even unconscious did Beck look peaceful.

Slightly bowing his head, Tron rested a hand on the chamber before looking Beck in the eyes. "For glitch's sakes Beck, what happened?"

The faint voice of the grid rang through the air, "Energy depleted, canceling all operations." Frowning Tron made a mental note to send for some more from Abel before sliding his hand through the liquid barrier.

Tron hoisted Beck across his shoulders, a groan passing the injured programs lips. Straightening his back, Tron carried Beck to the guest room as his apprentice hadn't claimed one yet.

The room was pure white with deep turquoise and green circuits; on the right were empty shelves, excluding the baton resting on the lowest; the left had a uniformed pale gray bed and black desk, with a container of energy lying forgotten.

Shifting Beck's weight to his left shoulder, Tron pulled back the soft gray blanket before laying Beck beneath it.

The healing chamber did not completely heal Beck, but he was at least stable. Glancing down at the younger program, he saw his circuits flicker, mentally cursing himself for forgetting to give him energy, Tron strode over to the desk and grabbed the forgotten canister, before returning to Beck's side.

In an attempt to wake the young mechanic Tron gently tapped his cheek, but to no avail; the program remained sound asleep. Frowning slightly, Tron maneuvered the two of them so that Beck was sitting up, resting against Tron. Looping his arm around Beck, Tron managed to part Beck's lips with the vial and help him drink about ¾ of it before he started coughing on the blue liquid. "Easy, not so fast," Tron muttered, even though he knew Beck could not hear him.

Laying Beck down, Tron, consumed by his thoughts, eased into the soft, dark gray chair beside Beck.

What happened to Beck? Some of those scars are hilocycles old, and he didn't even notice them. Who would do that to him? Why would they do that to him? Why did he not notice? Why did Beck hide them? Why would he not tell him? What in Flynn's name was Beck thinking! He could have helped him! Why would Beck out of all programs try to–NO! He's just misunderstanding the situation. Beck could never attempt–that–he weakly tried to convince himself.

"Who am I kidding?" the grid's protector wondered aloud. The wall of denial was crumbling from the ground up, letting in the one thought he had tried his best to ignore.

Beck had attempted to derez himself.

Tron took in a shuddering breath, trying to calm himself, and the tears stinging his eyes. Releasing the breath his facade crumpled. He felt the tears slide down his cheeks as his head fell into his hands weeping, all the while muttering "what if's" and promises. The program he considered to be his son had almost derezzed himself. He would have never seen that cocky smile, those warm and caring brown eyes, never hear his sarcastic remarks again. He would have never seen his son again. What Beck tried to do burned him to his core.

Whoever dared hurt someone Tron considered family was screwed, but when that family member was his son there was going to be hell to pay.

Tron wiped his tears and squeezed Beck's, promising to himself that nothing like this wouldever happen again.

Beck's head was pounding, and the white that bombarded his vision didn't help matters. Feeling something warm on his hand he glanced to his right to find Tron slouched over in his chair staring off into space. Groaning, Beck allowed his head to fall with a flop, which he thoroughly regretted moments later, as blackness clouded his vision luring him to embrace it once more. Shrugging it off, Beck once again attempted to sit up, fighting a wave of nausea he finally propped himself against the wall.

"Beck! Easy, you're still injured," his mentor warned.

Flinching at the stern tone, Beck tensed, propping himself up at a 90 degree angle, shying away from his mentor.

"Sorry," he muttered, glancing around the unfamiliar room, "Where are we?"

"It's your room. You never picked one out, so I picked for you. Never mind that, how are you feeling?"

"Hm? I'm fine, just a little sore, I'll be up before the end of the cycle," Beck lied, waving off Tron's concern.

"Beck."

"What!" The mechanic defended, "Okay, maybe I'm a little tired, but I'm fine!"

"Beck, do not lie to me, how are you feeling?"

Fidgeting with the blanket, Beck looked down, avoiding Tron's piercing gaze. In a more subdued manner the younger program answered truthfully, "It hurts, everything hurts."

He heard his mentor sigh, "Here, drink some of this." Glancing at the vial of white energy Beck shifted his weight to his right wrist as he reached for the drink.

"Argh!" White hot pain shot up through his arm, blinding him, he lost the little control he had over his body, falling back against the wall he groaned. Darkness was blurring his vision. In an attempt to clear it Beck rubbed his eyes, a little rougher than necessary.

"Easy," Tron admonished, "Let me help."

Confused, Beck stared at Tron in disbelief. Why wasn't Tron telling him that he was weak or selfish, and why was Tron helping him?

Not wanting to give Tron any more ammunition than he already had, Beck protested, "It's alright, I got it."

"No, you don't." With an accompanied stern stare, Tron used an arm to support Beck's weight before using his other to force-feed the mechanic.

The energy tasted bland, though he rarely tasted anything these cycles. Almost gagging on it, Beck downed the revolting drink. His mentor eased him back to a sitting position before retreating back to his chair.

After a nanocycle of silence, Beck looked up and found Tron leaning forward with his hands clenched together, shaking his head at the ground. Noticing Beck's stare, Tron, with pain evident in his voice, asked the one question he still could not answer, "Why?"

Beck opened his mouth to respond, but closed it; looking away from Tron, he tried again.

The mechanic tucked his chin to his chest, fighting the tears that prickled his eyes, "I-I-" –his voice broke off as his shoulders shook– "I just couldn't take it anymore, t-t-he things they said, the things they did. I just can't take it anymore."

"Who?" Tron asked.

Avoiding his mentor's question, he curled his knees inward, resting his head against them, feeling the tears break through.

The bed dipped as a warm hand grasped his neck, gently raising his head so he could see eye to eye with Tron.

"I don't know what they said or did to you, but they were wrong. What ever they said was a lie, whatever they did was not your fault."

"Yes it is! All of it!" Beck broke off to a whisper, though the tears grew stronger and stronger, "That was the hardest part… Everything they said was true, everything they did I deserved. You should just accept it as I have, the simple truth, I'm not worth it. I deserve it all."

"Don't ever say that again!" Tron growled, "You are worth everything!" He spat bitterly, with a look of pure determination and anger. "No matter what anyone has told you, you are always worth it. Forget what they told you and focus on what I'm telling you."

Flinching at Tron's tone, Beck attempted to sink further in himself. "I'm sorry."

Softening his tone, Tron replied, "Don't be, it is not your fault, do you understand me?"

Angling his head away from Tron, jaw clenched, he nodded, though they both knew it was a lie.

"Why did you stop me? Everyone would have been better off without me, you could have found someone worthy of the name Tron, a—"

"I already have," Tron interrupted, "you are the only one worthy to carry my name, don't ever doubt that, I choose you for a reason, and you haven't proven me wrong. Also, who is everyone? I know I wouldn't have been better off, the programs of Argon wouldn't be better off, Abel certainly wouldn't have been." Tron willed him to believe, "You might not believe me, Beck, but we all need you."

Beck closed his eyes and rested his head on Tron's shoulder, the soft warmth and steady breathing slowly lulled him to fitful sleep.