Sam coming home from Jail wasn't exactly a first. His yearly pranks on Encom had landed him behind bars more than once. Every time was well worth it though. To get his message through to the Board was always worth it.

Sam could hear a ship's horn as he pulled up to his 'humble' abode. The familiar Dumont Shipping Compartments greeted him along with the smell of the river.

A wave of unrest washed over the young man as he parked his bike. He had gotten his message through, but would anyone listen. Probably not.

"Hey buddy," Sam greeted his little Boston Terrier with a tired voice. "Enjoy it, Marv. You've earned it." He tossed the dog a wrapped hamburger patty, not even trying to hide the smile on his face. He sure sent the Board into a whirl, and just with a three second loop of his dog barking.

A beer sounded good right about now.

Sam turned towards his fridge, and there, standing in the corner of the large room was Alan Bradley. His eyes were tired and his stance relaxed, but he still managed to startle Sam, not that he would ever admit it. In fact, Sam completely ignored the impostor. He simply opened his fridge and grabbed a can of beer.

He could feel Alan's eyes on his back though. He wasn't going away any time soon. Sam sighed and shook his head, grabbing another can for his "guest."

"Why are you in my apartment, Alan?"

He shut the refrigerator door and faced the old man. He gave Sam a look of sarcasm and shook his head.

"You don't answer your phone," he answered.

"You know there's a reason for that," Sam groaned. "If I really wanted to talk, I'd answer."

Alan shook his head as Sam took a seat on his little couch. There was something in his eyes that reminded Sam of old times. Of when they were still friends. Sam hadn't heard from Alan since his last prank on Encom. And if he was being honest, Sam didn't want to hear from him.

"You know," Alan started, turning away from Sam. "You've got a pretty nice view here."

Oh great, Alan was trying to butter him up.

"Heard you did a triple axle off her a few hours ago."

Sam gave a breathy laugh at the comment.

"Rough landing?" Alan went on. Sam tried not to roll his shoulders just thinking about his new scars.

"It could have been worse."

"I also thought that your 'message' to the Board was very clever."

"You liked that?" Sam grinned. "That was Marv's idea. You know, when I was twelve I really appreciated the whole 'surrogate father' thing, but come on, Alan. What, are you here to help me with my homework, like old times?" He hurled the second soda can at Alan, the old man just barely catching the can. "What's the catch?"

"Does there have to be a catch?"

"There always is."

"That's a very cynical way of thinking."

Sam tried to ignore Alan and picked up a book off his coffee table. Pretending to read it didn't make Alan stop though.

"If you keep thinking that way, you're gonna end up with no friends and even fewer people you trust."

"Why are you here, Alan?" Sam interrupted. Sam didn't look up. He could tell Alan was hesitant to say his reasons, but he finally spoke.

"I was paged last night."

"Oh man, still rocking the pager, Alan. Good for you," Sam laughed. Finally something about Alan he could poke fun at. But Alan completely ignored his joke.

"Yeah, your father once told me I had to sleep with it, and I still do. The page came from your Dad's office at the arcade."

Sam's heart stopped. He could feel the blood rushed from his face, but he made ever attempt to cover his surprise.

"So?"

"'So?'" Alan repeated. "That number's been disconnected for 20 years."

"That's a bad part of town. Some jerk probably tried to steal something and messed with the phone lines."

"I don't think so. That office had its own special line because it was always kept a secret. Your father always said that he worked in a secret office. He said that the things he had in that office were too precious to be left lying around. He would never show me where the office was or tell me what was in it, until two days before he disappeared. He came to my house in a frantic state of excitement. 'I've cracked it,' he kept saying. He was talking about genetic codes, quantum teleportation. He said he was about to change everything! Science, medicine, Religion. I asked him how he was going to do that and he said, 'I can't tell you, Tron. I have to show you.' That was the last time I saw him and I truly believe that whatever happened to him was directly linked to what he had to show me. And now 20 years later I get a page from his secret office? That's not a coincidence."

"Dad did not page you, Alan," Sam said gruffly.

"You don't seem to understand the kind of person your father was," Alan stated. "I had never seen him in such a state, going on about how this was going to create a new and perfect world. For you, Sam. All of it for you. And that only makes me certain. Whatever he had in that office, he wouldn't have left that, Sam."

Sam studied his shoes, trying to shut out Alan's words.

Sitting down next to the boy, Alan put a hand to his shoulder.

"He wouldn't have left you."

"Oh my gosh. Alan!" He stood and walked out of the room, onto the porch. "You're the only one who still believes that. Now, he's either dead, or chilling in Costa Rica. Probably both!"

"You really believe that?" Alan asked, seriousness lining his features. Sam swallowed before answering, trying to convince himself again.

"Yeah!" The word left a bitter taste in his mouth. Alan must have not been convinced, because he stood and walked towards Sam's motorcycle. Sam squinted to see what the old man was doing. Alan was grabbing his Helmet.

"If you really believe that," he began, walking back over. "Then what's this?"

Sam swallowed again. Alan was pointing to the "86'" sticker on the back of the headgear. "Flynn Lives made this. Last time I checked, you don't get involved with Flynn Lives unless you believe that Flynn lives."

"Alan," Sam whispered, shaking his head. "It's just a sticker."

"Then what about that?" Alan pointed at the garage-style door. The "86" sign was spray painted on it, and not small either. Sam swallowed and rushed for an explanation.

"It's cool wall decor," he shrugged. That sounded stupid. Alan just frowned.

"Then what about last year in San Francisco?" Alan began again. "You jumped from a helicopter with a parachute that had the same symbol on it. You visit the police station to ask about your father twice a year."

Sam's heart skipped a beat. How did Alan find out about that?

"You sure have an interesting way of being DISinterested, Sam. And," the man went on. "Don't think I haven't noticed the dozens of times you've hacked into Encom to see if they know anything about your Father's disappearance. And don't think Encom hasn't noticed either. The only reason they haven't mentioned it is because they know that you could have them all out on their backsides before morning."

"Yes, I could," Sam snapped.

"So why don't you?"

Sam's heart began to sink. Shame crept up on him like it always did when he thought about Encom. He faced this reality years ago, that he had no clue how to use his only inheritance, and it was probably best if he didn't try.

"Do I really look like I'm ready to run a Fortune 500 company?"

Alan paused before answering, but not in hesitation, in more of a… 'let me figure out how to say this well' kind of pause.

"Do you look like it? No. But do I believe you could? Absolutely. You're smart, Sam. Why you choose to wait in the shadows, I don't know. But I really believe that you could run Encom better than any of the Board members if you wanted to."

"Well, guess what? I don't want to." That was a lie that stung, even though it came out of his own mouth. "There, I said it. What more do you want? You have your company!"

Alan's suddenly turned red and Sam caught a rare glimpse of his hidden temper.

"What I did for you was never because of Encom, and you know it, Sam!" Alan shouted.

"I don't want to hear it!" Sam growled, throwing up his arms in dismissal. "It was just too perfect, wasn't it? Your best friend vanishes and his multi-million dollar fortune and company will go to his son. You step in, treat the grieving, confused little boy like your own son. Well, I didn't fall for that little 'I love you unconditionally' act! I don't want Encom, and I don't want your sympathy.

Now I'm sorry. I'm tired. I smell like Jail. Let's just reconvene in another few years, huh? What do you say?"

"What do I say." Alan whispered the words with gravel in his voice. "I say how many times are we going to have this talk before you trust me again?"

Sam turned his back on the old man and attempted to shut out the question. They had gone over this again and again. No matter how many times they tried to make up, something would always bring them back around to that one argument.

Alan was telling the truth when he said that his relationship with Sam had nothing to do with Encom, but Sam had never believed his story.

He wished desperately that he and Alan could just go back to the good old days, when they didn't fight, or bicker, or even have to guard their words.

Well…no. What Sam wished was that his father had never disappeared. That he came home that night, ready to take his boy to the Arcade for their guys' night and have a blast. But Sam was still standing on his porch, Alan behind him, and in the middle of another argument, in which Sam had taken out his anger on the old man… again.

"Here."

Sam turned back around to see Alan pulling a bunch of keys from his coat pocket.

"It's the keys to the arcade," he explained. "I haven't gone over there yet. I thought you should be the one."

"Alan, you're acting like I'm gonna find him sitting there working. Just, 'hey kiddo. Lost track of time.'"

It can't be that easy. Right?

Alan tossed the keys to Sam without a moment's hesitation.

"Wouldn't that be something?"

Author's note: One of the things complained about by critics with Tron: Legacy was the lack of depth and emotion in the script. I partially agree with that and see where they are coming from. Now, I love this movie, but I have always wondered, "why not add side plots, or more arguments, extra points and added tension?" This was my attempt at adding that. I admit that I altered a lot, and changed the relationship between Sam and Alan, but this is not how it actually happened and I think that this situation of distrust is plausible. I own nothing, I was just having fun and experimenting. Super fans, please don't hate me!