I got this idea flashing in my head and it was too good to put away, so here's chapter 10:). Em gets to meet some most unexpected visitors who make some nasty memories resurface for Tron.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Please enjoy and review!
Emily POV
I tiptoed over the thin thread I set in the doorway, checking the trap for any flaws carefully as not to wake Mike. Everything was neatly in its place so I snuck out of the room, grabbing the remote and onlining the camera before I hid behind the door, waiting for the right moment to strike.
I finally pressed the button on the remote, chuckling as I waited for the big moment and...
BANG!
I hadn't heard Tron jog up the stairs and he stormed into Mike's bedroom, tripping over the almost invisible wire. The Program gave a yelp, crashing face-down on the floor with a loud thud as he activated the rest of the trap. A bucket of cold water toppled over, soaking the Monitor as a loud nuclear strike alarm roared from Mike's audio system, waking him up to the sight of Tron scrambling to his feet from a huge puddle of water on the floor.
"EMILY!," the Program roared, removing dripping hair from his eyes while pinning me with a fiery gaze that made me shrink.
"Yikes," I squeaked, sprinting down the hallway with Tron on my heels.
I leaped over the bottom steps of the staircase without breaking stride, but the ticked Monitor noticed the other trap a second too late, slipping on the banana peel I put there earlier and tumbling over to the couch where he stopped, not before he hit his head on the coffee table.
His shocked face was so hilarious I howled with laughter as he propped himself up on an elbow, rubbing his head where it hit the table. Tron winced when he pressed on a sore spot and I nearly toppled over, gasping for air.
"I set this up for Mike," I cackled, "but you were so much funnier. Oh my God, this was soo worth it!"
The Monitor dragged himself up with a low growl and he shot me a burning glare I knew he reserved for when I was in for an ass kicking.
"Hey, it was just a joke," I laughed nervously, backing away from the ticked Program.
I felt the smooth metal of the door to the garage and opened it... forgetting that there was a step. I found nothing but air under my feet and lost my balance, falling flat on my back with a shocked yell. It was my turn to glare at Tron as he laughed.
"Payback's a glitch," he wheezed, "Users, you should see your face!"
"Guys," Mike shouted, "Mum just called and she said that she has to leave my little brother with us for the weekend since she and Dad have to go to Canada, so we really have to clean this up! They'll be here in a couple of hours."
I looked around at the mess we've made as I got to my feet, muttering a heartfelt curse. This was not going to end well.
"How old is Mike's brother?," Tron asked.
"He's nine and he's spoiled rotten," I deadpanned, "and he's incredibly fast for a kid his age. Let's clean this up."
A couple of hours later the three of us managed to put an appearance of order to the warehouse we lived in. I had locked the basement securely earlier, putting the keys away so Danny wouldn't find them, and I was wiping the dust from the kitchen cupboards when I heard Mike greet his mother. I went out and saw Mrs. Spencer hugging her eldest son before she came to me, a sad look on her face.
"I'm so sorry for your mother, my dear," she said, hugging me too. "It must be hard for you being alone."
"I'm fine now," I told her, "thanks to Mike; he was the biggest sweetheart ever."
My friend winked as his mom's gaze fixed on Tron, who looked really out of place with a stack of dirty plates in his arms on his way to the kitchen, much like a rabbit caught in the headlights at night. She took in his scared face and his six-foot-tall frame, frowning a bit and the Monitor cowered under the inspecting look.
"And who might this young man be, Mike?," Mrs. Spencer asked, and I could notice both the guys freeze for a split second.
"He's... well... uh... he's Em's boyfriend," Mike said quickly with a short apologetic glance, "He also helps me with the shop; he's a mechanic as well."
Tron and I exchanged an embarrassed look behind Mrs. Spencer's back and I could already feel the tip of my ears turning hot when the Program greeted Mike's mom.
"I'm Tim Anderson," he rumbled, "It's a pleasure to meet you."
The woman was a foot shorter than Tron but as she eyed him suspiciously the Program shrank a bit, making me bite back a laugh.
"I hope you are a gentleman, Tim," she warned, "Emily here has been through a lot lately."
"Y-yes, of course," he stammered, struggling not to blow this up, "I wouldn't even think of hurting her in any way."
Yeah, if you didn't count a lot of bruises, scrapes, and sore spots he gave me in training it was pretty accurate, but Mike's mom didn't need to know that.
"I really hope you're right, Tim," she said, and Tron nodded, almost sighing with relief when the woman turned her attention to her eldest son.
"Dad and I have to go to that conference in Vancouver," she told him, "so I'll leave Danny with you."
"Couldn't you have left him at Auntie Mia's?"
"She's sick, Mike, and I can't take him with us. It's just a weekend."
"Mom, I'm a grown-up, I can't just stay babysitting!"
I relieved Tron of the dishes and he followed me into the kitchen as the Spencers kept bickering in the other room.
"Sorry 'bout that," I muttered, "Mike's mom can be a bit... straightforward sometimes."
"I noticed," Tron grumbled, opening the fridge, "and I think we should hide these really well unless we want our heads on a platter."
He held up a can of beer before picking up the rest of them and depositing them in the highest cupboard as I washed the dishes.
"Guys, come meet Danny," Mike called.
The kid was small for his age, with the same mop of hazel hair and green eyes his older brother had, but unlike the kind look in Mike's his looked a bit too calculated and even a little mean. I had met Danny before and I knew that his mom spoiled him like crazy, and his sometimes borderline evil pranks had earned him a well-deserved nickname of 'the pint-sized spawn of Satan' from me the last time he stayed with Mike.
"Mooom," he whined, gripping onto his mother, "I don't wanna stay with Mikey, he won't let me play WOW and he's mean."
"You have to, Danny-dear," she cooed, "Mommy has to go to Canada with daddy."
"But I don't want to!"
"The feeling is mutual," I muttered as the kid was still clinging to Mrs. Spencer's leg.
The woman pried her youngest son away from her, handing him to Mike. Danny's teeth bit into his brother's hand making him hiss in pain as his mother pecked the kid and waved goodbye to us. The sound of the car engine went away down the street and the kid began howling and screaming bloody murder for his mother as both Tron and I covered our ears.
"MOOOOOOM! I DON'T WANNA! COME BAAAAACK!"
"Please make him stop, for the love of God, my ears are bleeding," I complained as Danny kept screaming and Mike tried to calm him down.
"NOOOOOO!"
"Mike, give him my laptop," I ordered, shouting to cover the wailing brat, "I have a lot of online games installed, just make him shut the hell up!"
When Danny heard the words 'laptop' and 'games' he immediately shut up, pulling an innocent face.
"You have WOW?," he asked, batting his eyelashes.
"Yes," I groaned, stretching over to the coffee table and grabbing the laptop, "and if you want something else I'll download it for you."
The spawn of Satan snatched the computer, trotting away to the couch and I sighed, rubbing my temples. It was going to be a long weekend.
"Come on, Tr... Tim," I corrected quickly, "let's go."
"Where to?"
"Anywhere but in the same place Danny is," I hissed, tossing him the keys to his bike, "unless you want to lose what's left of your mind."
"Hey, don't leave me here alone with him," Mike pleaded.
"He's your brother," I shot back, walking by my motorcycle to the garage exit, "you should be able to handle him. Come on, Tim, let's go, I know a nice place to hang out."
I led Tron to another deserted warehouse in the industrial area not far from the one we lived in. The place didn't look like much: some parts of the roof were missing, the yard was full of tall weeds and its gate and doors were locked.
"Come on, let's hide the bikes" I said, pulling mine to a spot where it couldn't be spotted by someone coming by the street.
Tron set his motorbike next to mine, shooting me a questioning glance as I kneeled to tie my shoelaces tighter.
"What's this place?," he asked, looking around curiously.
"You'll see," I told him as I got up, "We have to climb over the fence to get in."
I set into a jog before picking up the pace to a dead on sprint and launched myself high in the air, gripping the top of the concrete fence and vaulting over it into the yard, followed by the Monitor. He went to the doors and tried them to no result.
"I'm guessing you want to get in," he said, frowning, "how are we going to do that?"
"Obviously not through those doors," I retorted, "look at that support beam over there; we can climb up on it. I used to do this all the time even before I first came to the Grid."
Tron began climbing on the support beam but I was in the mood for a bit of showing off so I ran to some empty gas tanks, using them to leap over to one of the broken windows where I landed on my tiptoes on the narrow ledge. The Program hauled himself up, peeking inside the warehouse at a big hole in the upper level floor right in front of us. The dim light made it impossible to see the bottom, and broken support beams spiked dangerously around the edge.
"We jump," I told Tron, answering his unspoken question, "it's the only way down."
"It's a long drop," he warned, bending over in an attempt to see down the hole.
"Trust me, we can make it."
"If we die I'm blaming you," he growled, taking a deep breath before letting himself drop.
I plunged after him, letting out a loud cry of joy as I enjoyed the adrenaline surge of free falling through the air before I went head-first into the pool at the bottom with a splash. I resurfaced, blowing water from my mouth and swam to the edge where Tron was with a huge grin on his face.
"Did you like it?," I asked as he hauled me on the platform.
"Unexpectedly I did," he answered, shaking the water out of his hair, "The last free falling episode I had wasn't exactly pleasant but this was. How did you come by this place?"
"It belonged to ENCOM back in '89 before Flynn went missing, it was some sort of equipment storage," I explained, "but they deserted it shortly after Kevin disappeared. A water main broke and it flooded the entire basement levels, making this pool here, but the upper levels are perfect for parkour practice or even for some badass pictures. The place is huge actually, and it even has electricity and an internet connection."
I went to a control panel on the wall and flipped a switch, turning on the lights to reveal a large room from which a lot more corridors continued. I took two big towels from a drawer, tossing one to Tron so we could dry out.
"The ground floor is almost intact, but the other two are a bit damaged after 20 something years of being unused," I continued as the Monitor wiped his hair dry, "Another great thing is that nobody comes here, so I can do everything I want. That's how I could do all those parkour moves even before you trained me, I practiced here, and since we can't go to the Grid at the moment I thought we could have a bit of our kind of fun."
"'Our kind of fun'?"
"Does 'hide and seek' in the Grid version ring a bell?," I grinned.
"Why not," Tron shrugged, "you won't catch me anyway."
"Says you," I retorted, "if you manage to evade me and get back here you win. On the other hand, if I get my hands on you..."
"If you manage to beat me if and when you get me you win," he added with a smug smile, "how long do I have ahead of you?"
"Five minutes and I'm already counting."
Before I finished the sentence Tron had already disappeared on one of the corridors; I waited for about five minutes, as I told him before heading out for him through the maze of deserted offices and empty hallways I knew with my eyes closed. The hunt was short, as when I got a vantage point close to the roof I caught a glimpse of someone moving along the support beams underneath. A grin crept on my face when I saw Tron checking the open space carefully before he attempted to cross a narrow beam which led to a suspended platform. I sprinted along the beam I was on and leaped, twisting midair before I landed in a low crouch in front of the Monitor.
"Gotcha," I growled and the Program let out a matching snarl, lunging to get me.
I was ready for it, though, and with a well-placed kick in the gut I sent him off the beam; he managed to grab on to the edge, hanging fifty feet above the demolished floor of the warehouse.
"You might want to revise your earlier statement," I laughed, grabbing his wrists and hoisting him up.
A loud creaking sound reached us, and I frowned. Nobody came to this place, let alone by opening the front doors.
"Quick, someone's here," I hissed, pulling Tron to the platform and crouching close to the edge as I waited for the intruders to show themselves.
"Why are we here," a woman's voice said, "This place is a mess and you said it yourself, nobody has been here for twenty years."
Tron stiffened beside me but I ignored him as the other, a man, spoke too.
"I know, Q," he apologized, "but I wanted to see if there was anything useful Dad left here before he... you know what I mean."
"You miss him," the woman stated sadly as the man sighed.
"Of course I do, I get to see the old man after twenty years only to lose him again, after I get beaten by a purring, Kung-Fu flipping Enforcer."
"That Enforcer saved our lives, Sam," the woman chastised, "and he wasn't always like that."
What in the Grid...?
The strangers came into view and I saw a blonde man around his mid-twenties and a slim woman with jet black hair cut in a bob with the bangs at a slight angle framing her face. They both seemed oddly familiar, but I couldn't associate a name with their faces. A low growl made me turn and I looked at Tron, who was as pale as a sheet and shaking badly, fighting back tears as he stared at the pair.
"Tron..." I started, but he ignored me.
I could see his expression turn from shock to joy and then to sorrow in a couple of seconds and it dawned on me who the strangers were.
"Is it...?"
"The son of Flynn and Quorra," the Monitor murmured, "They managed to get out of the Grid after all."
I knew he was thinking about what he had done to Sam and Quorra as he was under Clu's influence so I took his hand.
"It wasn't your fault, Tron," I whispered, "it was Clu's and you know that."
The Program nodded, tears streaming on his face and I pulled him back as Quorra's gaze snapped up to the platform.
"I think I saw someone up there," she told Sam who turned to where she was pointing.
I yanked the still stunned Program to a small entrance, flattening against the wall.
"You have to go," I whispered, "they mustn't see you under any circumstances. You were supposed to be either dead or in the Grid, remember?"
"How do I get out?"
"Go to the roof," I instructed, "and then to that large water tower to the north, but don't make any sound and don't let anyone see you. I'll find you there."
Tron nodded, taking off on the corridor and I glanced down at the pair who looked around suspiciously.
"Come down, whoever you are," Sam called, "or we're coming up for you."
"No need for that," I answered, "I'm coming to you."
I jumped off the platform, grabbing the rails to break the fall and I landed in front of the pair. Quorra's hand instinctively reached between her shoulders where her Disk would normally sit, but she stopped when she saw me, her eyes going wide.
"She moves like Anon and Tron, Sam," she whispered softly before the Flynn shushed her.
"Who are you," he demanded.
"I'm Emily," I answered, "I saw you in the newspapers, you're Sam Flynn and this is your wife, Quorra."
"Now for the million dollar question, what are you doing here?"
"Hanging out," I retorted.
"In an abandoned warehouse?"
"I'm into parkour," I explained, "and this place is awesome for practice."
"Come on, Sam," Quorra intervened, "leave the girl be, she's just having fun."
"If you say so," her husband grumbled before he turned to me again, "how's this place holding up?"
"Good and bad," I shrugged, "the lower levels are flooded and the upper ones are unusable. The electric system works, though, and I managed to get an Internet connection in here as well, since I'm into computers."
"How old are you," the former ISO asked.
"I'll turn nineteen this year," I answered.
"You're good at this parkour thing," she said, "I only know two guys who can pull off those moves."
"Where are they, I might ask them to show me some more tricks."
Quorra sobered up, and I realized who the 'guys' were: the two System Monitors, Tron and Anon. I had been trained by the former, and the latter was his apprentice as well, so it was pretty obvious why I had the same fighting style they had.
"They both died," she said and I bowed my head, thinking about the Program who, I hoped, had fled the premises.
"I'm sorry," I apologized, "I didn't mean to make you remember anything painful."
"It's fine," she sighed, "are you in high school or something?"
"Yes, it's my last year."
"What college do you want to go to," Sam got into the discussion.
"Caltech or MIT, maybe," I said, "but I don't think I'll go to college, it's a waste of time and I already know what I need to know."
"If it helps," Sam supplied with a coy smile, "I dropped out of Caltech, it was too boring."
"Don't say that," Quorra chastised, "you know it wasn't your brightest idea."
"It wasn't my brightest idea to go to the Arcade that night," he retorted, "since I got thrown in the Games and..."
He remembered that I was there too and he stopped, but I knew what happened after, since I got almost the same treatment the first time I entered the Grid.
"Nevermind," he said, "it's nothing wrong with not wanting to go to college. You said you were good with computers, how good exactly?"
I broke into ENCOM in less than one night, but you don't need to know that.
"I hacked into NSA once or twice," I replied casually as if it was something normal and Sam's eyes widened.
"So you're good, then," he stammered, "I couldn't get past the last firewall."
When a System Monitor sits behind you and points the flaws in the network protection I guess it's easier to get through.
"Maybe you should pass by ENCOM tower sometime," Sam told me, "Alan could use some help."
"Alan?"
"Our Head Programmer," the Flynn explained, "the one who wrote TRON, the best firewall ENCOM ever had."
Oh, so you're talking about that System Monitor turned Enforcer and then back to his original function I rescued out of the Grid some months ago, who is currently less than half a mile from here, hiding so you won't see him. Yeah, I met him; he's a really nice guy once you get to know him.
"I heard about h-it," I amended, "the company took it down recently."
"That Dillinger jerk," Quorra growled, "I swear I'm going to de- um, murder him and Mackey one day."
Sam eyed his wife and I stifled a chuckle.
"Anyway," he said, "we could use a good Programmer, so you should really visit us."
"I have some work put up on one of the computers here if you want to see it," I offered.
"You managed to get them working?"
"It was easy," I dismissed, "just a few new parts and a half day's work and it was like new. However, it's a hell of a climb to get there."
"I think we can make it," Quorra smiled at her husband who grinned back, "lead the way."
"Take that stair over there," I instructed, "then go on that ledge. There are grip points on the wall, so you can get up fairly easily."
"Aren't you going to go with us?," Sam asked with a frown.
"I'll take the hard way," I grinned as I began to jog in the opposite direction.
I broke into a dead on sprint, vaulting to a small platform, climbing over the rails onto a support beam which took me right to where I directed the Flynns to go. Quorra got up first and we both hauled Sam to the intact piece of floor as he grumbled something around the lines 'she must be half cat if she can do that'. I led the pair to one of the empty offices I cleaned up, turning on the computer.
"Here," I said, opening the code file, "it's a kind of search program that'll show me all the results on the Internet instead of the fraction the other search engines give. I'm still working on it; some things are a bit off."
Sam sat on the creaky chair, scrolling down the lines of code when the phone I set up in the room rang, startling Quorra. I grinned apologetically and answered the phone, going outside the room so the couple won't hear me.
"Yeah?"
"Can you tell me why Tron came home with both your bikes a couple of minutes ago and locked himself in your room without a word?," Mike demanded from the other end of the line.
"Um, yeah," I said sheepishly, "we had some unexpected guests at the warehouse."
"I thought nobody came there."
"I thought that too, but Sam and Quorra Flynn showed up and..."
"Wait, wait, wait," Mike wheezed, "slow waaaaay down, Flynn as in the CEO of ENCOM?"
"Yup."
"And you're there with them?"
"Bingo," I chimed, "It's their warehouse after all."
"Man, what a lucky strike you have," he wondered, "Now, what do I do with Tron?"
"Leave him be," I told him, "he's quite upset about some nasty things he did before I got him out of you-know-where, I'll talk to him when I get home."
Mike sighed, and I heard a loud thud and an evil chuckle on the other end of the line.
"OI, DON'T TOUCH THAT," Mike shouted at Danny before muttering in the speaker, "I swear this kid is driving me crazy. Just hurry, Em, okay? I need a hand with Danny and Tron needs a good talk, he was really ticked off when he came, he only told me where you've been and stormed out of the room."
"I'll do what I can," I reassured him and the line went dead.
I went back to the office and Sam got up, clapping on my back with a huge smile on his face.
"That's really good work, kiddo," he cheered, "it needs a few tweaks but... wow, you really have a knack with it."
"Thanks," I said, "it's just a work in progress, nothing too much."
"You underestimate yourself," Quorra beamed, "give yourself some credit."
"Look, do you mind if I take a copy and show it to Alan?," Sam asked, "I'll get him to look into it and help you with those parts that don't work as they should, and I promise I won't let anyone use it."
"Why not," I shrugged, "go ahead, I never thought I'll get some of my work checked by the CEO of ENCOM."
Sam inserted a memory stick into the computer, copying the program. When the transfer was complete he pulled out the stick, putting it into his pocket.
"What are you going to do with the warehouse?," I asked, regretting that I had to part with the place I put so much work into.
Quorra shot Sam a meaningful look and the Flynn shrugged.
"It's unusable for what we had in mind," he said with a wink, "I guess you can keep it."