Hey all, I hope you enjoy the latest chapter. Anyway, please review. I really want to hear what you all think about this, and I'm starting to wonder if I should even keep writing this. I'm really enjoying this story, and I hope you are too. Enjoy! R&R! ~Moore12~

Six

1985

I

"I don't know, man," Flynn murmured, glancing up at him with an uncharacteristically concerned look on his face. "I don't know if bringing him back is the right thing to do."

Why was Flynn hesitant to bring back a program who was his friend? It just didn't make any sense to him, who would have—if he had Flynn's powers—brought him back without even stopping to think about it. "Come on, Flynn," he replied, trying to hide his frustration. "He's a good program, a typical program. He's not a monitor, he's not an admin. He's just an everyday program. He could…well, represent the programs."

"Tron, I just don't know, alright?" Flynn shook his head, as if remembering painful events from the past. "What if it happens again?"

He understood—Flynn had let slip what he was really afraid of. As if realizing that himself, the User added, trying his best to sound casual, "Besides, I don't even know if Roy has him backed up. And if he doesn't, what are the odds he'll remember his coding, man? What if…"

He wasn't about to let Flynn continue, blurting out pointless excuse after pointless excuse when none of them really mattered. He had to tell him how he really felt, even if it hurt him to do so.

"Look, Flynn, I know what you're really afraid of. What happened with Yori…" he sighed deeply, the name of the program he loved—and lost—caught in his throat. Composing himself the best he could, he continued, "I miss her so much… But what happened to her doesn't mean we shouldn't try to bring Ram back."

The User tried to smile, but no smile came. What was it about restoring programs that made him so uneasy? Why was he so willing to create but wouldn't recreate? "I just don't know, man. I just…" Flynn's eyes flashed and he asked the question he was hoping he wouldn't, "How would you feel if I restored you after you de-rezzed?"

Suppressing a growl of frustration, he replied, "I wouldn't know how I would feel because I haven't de-rezzed. Besides, don't you think he'd be happy to get a second chance?"

That's right, I just turned the tables, he thought triumphantly as Flynn's face fell. Watching the User carefully, he decided it would be best to continue this thought after all. "Come on, Flynn, we need a little help, don't you think? When you're not here, Clu and I can't handle everything!"

"I'll think about it," Flynn muttered, clearly aware he had lost this battle. "But I'm not guaranteeing anything!"

Somehow, he already knew the User would bring back his old friend. If it worked—which he wanted more than anything to happen—they would have a lot of explaining to do…

II

He watched intently as the little program's circuits flickered weakly to life, hoping that everything would go smoothly. He couldn't help but smile as he remembered Roy's reaction when he asked for the coding of his old RAM program.

"Flynn, is there something you're not telling me?" he had asked, even though it was clear he already knew he wouldn't be getting an answer. "What do you need with an outdated actuarial program, anyway?"

It had taken a little while for him to determine what modifications he would have to make to Ram's programming for him to fit the system. The new system was far more advanced than the old one and he knew from experience that introducing an outdated program to the system spelled trouble. He had learned that the hard way…

On top of the modifications he had to make for Ram to fit the system, he had also spent some time giving him some new functions he knew would come in handy in his new role. Ram's not just going to be an actuary anymore; he's going to be a co-admin so he'll need to be able to do more, he had reasoned. Aside from giving him the ability to contact Alan and a few other key Encom programmers, he had made it so he could perform nearly every administrative function.

Now all he could do was wait and hope for the best. He figured he had done enough, but he couldn't be sure until Ram was up and running. This place really needs more order, he thought as he continued to watch the program that was still in the midst of being restored.

"How's it going?" Tron let himself into the office—without knocking as usual—and glanced down at the shell of what would (hopefully) be his old friend.

"So far, so good," he murmured, trying not to allow himself to pat himself on the pack until he was certain Ram would function properly. "He should reboot soon."

They waited for what felt like an eternity before the little program stirred. With a pained groan, he cracked open one eye. Blinking—a confused expression on his face—he tried to sit up but fell back to the ground.

"Wha'…wha' happened?" Ram murmured as he stared down at his arms in shock—must not even recognize himself, he thought with a small pang of regret.

"Hey, take it easy man," he got up and walked over to where the little program was lying, still struggling to sit up. "It's going to take some time for all your functions to start running at full capacity, but we're here for you."

Taking the small program by the shoulders, he helped him into a sitting position. Ram stared at him in wonder—his eyes wide and unguarded…just as they had been when he de-rezzed—and whispered, "Flynn?"

"Yeah, I'm here, Ram," he replied, smiling warmly at the little program.

He was about to add that Tron was there as well, but Ram spoke before he could. Still staring at him in awe—in a way, it felt like the program was practically worshipping him—he asked almost reverently, "You…you rewrote me?"

"Of course, Ram," he smiled at him—trying to hide that he was slightly embarrassed by how the program was acting, "Now, there's somebody else here who wants to see you."

III

After practically falling all over himself—just being rewritten, he barely knew anything about his functions—he was led to a small room in the back of Flynn's "workshop." He still couldn't fully believe this was happening; couldn't believe it even as he hugged Tron, couldn't believe it even as he asked Flynn question after question about the "new system."

"Slow down, man," Flynn had laughed as he asked him yet another question about the system, this one about the light shining off in the distance. "I'll answer all your questions, but right now you really need to take it easy."

Even though he was still fairly unsure of himself—and as tired as ever—he was excited. He had been rewritten, been given a second chance in a new system filled with boundless opportunities. The old crew was back together again, and nothing could stop them!

And everything was so amazing…The Grid looked so…different—he could tell that just by looking out the window. It looked the way he had always pictured a User city. "You made all this?" he asked, staring at Flynn in wonder yet again.

"Well, with a little help from my friends," Flynn replied, glancing over at Tron with—what was that look?—a worried look on his face. "Speaking of which…"

"Flynn," called a voice that sounded exactly like the User's, "I looked into the reports of there being unusual activity in the Outlands, and everything is running smoothly."

"Clu, could you come here for a minute?" Flynn replied as he glanced back at Tron, a reassuring look on his face. Tron? Tron looked more than a little nervous.

For the first time, distrust filled him. What are they not telling me? he had to wonder. And who's Clu? And what does he got to do with anything?

He didn't have to wait long to find out the answer to the question because—almost immediately after Flynn called for him—a program entered the room. And he looked exactly like Flynn—looked like he could be his copy or backup. But…that didn't make any sense, did it?

"Clu," Flynn said steadily, not even addressing him anymore, he realized with a pang. "This is Ram. Tron and I knew him from the old system, and, well, I rewrote him to help out around here."

Clu gave him a cursory and fairly judgmental—who does he calculate he is? he wondered—before returning his full attention to Flynn. "Flynn, is this what you Users call…a joke?"

"Well, I'd say nice to meet you," he cut in before Flynn could respond to his stupid program, his cynical side coming out, "But not after that."

"Ram, come on, let me show you to your room," Tron said anxiously, clearly trying to change the subject and also separate him and Clu. But he wasn't about to obediently follow his old friend when he had been challenged, when he was being called a "joke."

He was about to speak again, but Clu got the last word. "Things in this system are already starting to go downhill," he grumbled as he glared down at him, a contemptuous sneer on his face.

Somehow, he already knew he had yet again made a powerful enemy.

2009

Even though Jarvis wasn't afraid of the program—there was no way he'd be able to escape or resist being repurposed—there was something about him that was just unsettling. Clu had trusted him to take care of Ram on his own while he went to eliminate the User on the light cycle grid, and he wasn't going to mess this up. It was his first real chance to show Clu that he was able to step up and take more responsibility and, maybe, just maybe, Clu would finally treat him with a little respect.

"Not so tough without your identity disc are you?" Jarvis sneered as he walked over to where Ram stood. Spinning the soon-to-be-repurposed program's disc idly on his finger, he continued, chuckling as he did, "Well, don't worry, Ram. Soon you'll be tougher than ever."

He could mock him with ease, but he still couldn't figure out what it was about him that was so unsettling, so threatening. Maybe it's that face shield, he realized. I can't see his face, so I don't know what he's up to. "De-rezz the mask," he ordered.

With an annoyed huff—why does he care so much about the face shield when he's about to get repurposed? Jarvis had to wonder—the little program de-rezzed his mask. The whole right side of his face was severely damaged, and his right eye was missing. It was site that made Jarvis shudder even though he had heard about what had happened many cycles ago. "Happy?" Ram muttered, a—it couldn't be!—a smirk on his thin face.

He could hear the roar of the crowd outside—the light cycle match must have started—and, when he looked back at Ram he noticed that he was, in fact, smirking. He was about to be repurposed, was being held between two guards, and he was smirking? It just didn't compute.

"What are you so happy about?" Jarvis demanded—beginning to grow irritated with his charge—as he strode over to where the little program stood and slapped him across the face. "Wipe that stupid smirk off your face or I'll de-rezz you instead."

"Jarvis," one of the guards said softly, a slightly nervous look in his eyes. "Maybe we should just get it over with…"

Jarvis barely heard the guard and wasn't about to listen to him. Because—he still couldn't believe this was happening—that stupid little actuarial program was laughing. He was laughing at him to his face, laughing at him like he was the most hilarious thing he had ever seen. "You'll de-rezz me?" he laughed, practically howling. "You'll de-rezz me? Has your CPU gone on the fritz or something, man? User, wow, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!"

"You think I can't de-rezz you right now?" Jarvis yelled, thrusting Ram's identity disc in his face. "You can't get away! I've got your disc! What can you possibly do?"

The little program stopped laughing, but his smirk had transformed into a sneer. "What I meant," he stated rather innocently, "is that you couldn't de-rezz me by yourself."

"Oh really, is that so?" Jarvis snarled, his rage building inside of him. "You don't think a program like me could eliminate a stupid little actuary like you? Do you know who I am?"

He wasn't going to be intimidated or let that stupid, damaged actuarial program mock him. He was about to continue—about to tell him all about his credentials and why he was far superior to him—but Ram cut him off.

Something about his appearance had changed, Jarvis noticed. He was still wearing that smirk, but he was more unsettling than ever. His good eye was looking him over coldly, calculatingly. "Yeah, I know who you are," the little program said softly as he looked him right in the eyes. "And you couldn't de-rezz me by yourself if you tried 'cause you're a coward."