Chapter Text
“If you’re going to empty the contents of your stomach Dr. Bradley, please do somewhere away from my arcade cabinets.”
Alan batted the hand that pat his back away with the arm that wasn’t currently in use cupping a protective palm over his mouth. Flynn snickered, hopping away from the onslaught. He twirled around the wall to hit the breaker switch to bring the arcade to life. Lights filled the space, blinking, and bright neon tubes spanning over the ceiling cast bouncing shadows and lights off of the screens of the numerous machines. The speakers cracked a bit before beginning the intro guitar riff of ' Only Solutions '. Flynn thought it was particularly fitting.
Leaning back around the frame, Flynn watched as Alan attempted to steady himself on the nearby Galaga cabinet. Alan’s face was getting its color back thankfully; Flynn would be lying if he didn’t admit he was a little worried he had spooked his friend a little too much with his driving back to the arcade. Okay, maybe he did try to show off a bit and now wasn’t exactly the time, but he thought that the shortcut over the railing midtown was a great choice and he even cleared it completely this time!
Alan grimaced and let out a small groan before turning to look at Flynn. “You are an absolute menace .”
“Thank you.” Flynn gave a small bow. Or well, that’s what he meant it to be as he leaned himself into the main part of the arcade from the doorframe. His body swooped from the side of the wall in a large gesture, almost reaching the floor.
Alan rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep the smile from creeping onto his face as he watched Flynn then having to awkwardly walk himself back up the door frame with his free hand, having lost balance in his gesture.
Trusting himself enough to take even steps again, Alan made his way from the Galaga cabinet to Flynn. He placed a hand to Flynn’s chest and swung him back around the doorframe so he was stood upright. “C’mon, Flynn. Let’s get you sorted out…” Stepping around Flynn, Alan moved to climb the steps to the loft.
“Wrong way, man,” Flynn called over his shoulder, leaving the backroom to duck back into the arcade. Alan had about a second to whip his head around to ask what Flynn meant, just to see the last of him disappear from view.
Well, Alan should’ve expected this… Why would Flynn have anything where it made sense? Hell, Encom’s laser was at the arcade of all places. Why would he just have it upstairs? Where it made sense .
With a resigned sigh, Alan trudged back down the few steps he had made it up. Peering around the corner back into the main area, Alan quickly located Flynn who was now leaned against the Tron arcade cabinet. He waved a quarter at Alan before tossing it in his direction.
Alan panicked, fumbling to catch said quarter before it unceremoniously slipped from his fingers. He scowled at Flynn as the coin rolled itself in circles near the skirt of the cabinet. Reaching down, Alan went to scoop up the dejected quarter that seemed to be on a particularly scuffed piece of flooring.
Huh..
“For someone so insistent on people using their correct title, I’m surprised you haven’t put your degree to good use and found out where the laser is yet, Dr. Bradley,” Flynn teased, now spinning a different quarter in his hand.
Alan scowled. “Contrary to popular belief, doctorates don’t come with the innate ability to locate lasers .”
Flynn shrugged and continued to watch Alan puzzle through his meaning. Alan huffed in annoyance.
“...the cabinet?”
“I can do some pretty amazing things, Alan, but hotwire a laser into an arcade machine is beyond even what I’m capable of-”
“Behind it, dip.”
“ Dip?! ”
Alan tossed the quarter at Flynn’s face, which he thankfully caught. Sure, Alan was frustrated, but he was glad he didn’t actually hit him in the face (he wouldn’t have heard the end of ‘you have to kiss it better’ jokes from the other man if he had).
Flynn rolled his eyes, but refrained from saying anything else. Leaning down, he slotted the quarter into the coin slot of the arcade cabinet.
And it spit it back out.
“Flynn-”
“Ah- Ah- Ah. Patience, Mr. Bradley. Patience.”
“ Doctor… ” Alan muttered in response. What? He can choose which hill he wants to die on.
Leaning against the arcade cabinet, Flynn braced himself and began to shove. Alan watched as the cabinet began to swing out of the way, following the pattern of scuffs on the floor.
Huh .
A small door came into view that seemed to lead to an even smaller crawlspace. Flynn took the keyring from his belt loop as he swung the small door open. He gestured with a bow for Alan to step through.
Mmm… Alan didn’t like this.
“Flynn- dare I ask when and why you installed a secret door in the arcade behind one of your most popular arcade machines?”
Shrugging in return, Flynn began to descend the stairs as he spoke. “The building’s always had a basement, man.” His footsteps echoed as he descended further into the darkness. The distinct jingle of his keys cued Alan that maybe he should follow him? Why did Alan not like that suggestion?
Screw it.
Alan cautiously took a few steps down, bracing himself on the nearby wall that he certainly hoped didn’t have rusted nails or anything sticking out of it… That would be bad…
“Flynn- Hey Flynn! That doesn’t answer my question. You know that right?”
The only response Alan got was a bark of laughter from Flynn as he heard a second door(?) opening at the bottom of what Alan was now going to refer to as ‘The Abyss’. Taking a deep breath, Alan pushed on, creeping down the stairs. Dim light flooded in from what Alan presumed to be the door Flynn had opened at the bottom.
The first thing Alan saw was the bulletin board. Across it stretched a large dot-matrix… Map? Stepping closer, out of The Abyss, Alan looked over the papers. Blue ink streaking across in different spots… X’s, notes, crosses, arrows, and coding all written out in Flynn’s skewed handwriting- Alan could even see the texture from the corkboard in his scrawls.
A soft smile crossed his face, spotting the Polaroid of Flynn holding a baby Sam next to one of Jordan- she was wearing a sundress and turning to smile at the camera, the ocean breeze perfectly moving her hair to frame her face- Alan remembered Flynn telling him about that trip to the beach they had taken, recalling the light that had filled Flynn’s eyes as he spoke earnestly about his wife and son.
A soft whirring of a computer terminal’s fan brought his attention to the desk. Amidst the papers scattered about, Alan noted the large screen with gold lettering displaying various diagnostics. Reading the last lines of code, Alan began to work out what exactly was going on.
“Boo.”
Alan was glad that the arcade was closed. Otherwise the undignified shriek he just let out would’ve been very embarrassing. The amount of crashing noises as he toppled over Flynn’s office chair was also not a great follow-up. Bringing several manilla folders full of paper with him, Alan crashed his way to the floor.
Welp, that sent Flynn off. Doubled over laughing, Flynn couldn’t even muster the sentence he had been about to speak. How could he have skipped the opportunity to scare the absolute shit out of a one Dr. Alan T. Bradley-Baines? Sure, he was going to explain the computer terminal and laser to Alan, but oh this was much, much , more fun.
Well, it was until a one Dr. Alan T. Bradley-Baines remembered that knees buckle very easy when kicked from behind. And, oh , would you look at that, Flynn was looking at the ceiling now. Despite the wind being knocked from his chest as his back hit the floor- scratch that, not floor, as his back hit the leg of his chair and then Alan’s legs- he couldn’t stop himself from continuing to laugh.
“What the actual hell is wrong with you?” Alan accused, propping himself up with his elbows to glare at Flynn from around the desk chair they were now tangled around.
Laughter. Figures. Alan should’ve guessed that Flynn was just crazy. This was crazy. He was crazy for going along with this! A secret office behind an arcade cabinet that was hiding a laser that can send you into a computer terminal . Alan needed to find new friends.
He kicked his legs to free them from underneath Flynn’s torso, a distinct thunk sounding as his friend’s head collided with the wheel from one of the legs of the office chair. Alan didn’t miss the hiss of pain Flynn let out. Serves him right.
Lightly kicking Flynn in the side once up, Alan gestured to the computer terminal. “How long?”
Flynn hummed from the floor, vaguely along to the next song that had come on upstairs… ‘Electric Blue' Alan mused. He spent too much time with Flynn if he was able to identify it from just the man humming along to the bridge.
“... How old is little Jethro now?”
“ Since Jet?! ”
“Well, I had at least started the terminal…”
“But the laser-”
“I was using it at the bay until Encom decided to ditch the project.”
“How did Lora-”
“How did Lora not know? Beats me actually. Gibbs was kinda suspicious but some paid time off satiated him from not digging deeper about it,” Flynn explained, hoisting himself off the floor by the lower shelf under the desk. He dusted himself off, finding his shoes quite interesting rather than the face of an angry and disappointed Alan.
Gesturing to the screen on the desk, Flynn began to speak again. “Well, this is it. The next frontier.”
Alan didn’t miss the gleam of pride he heard etched into Flynn’s words. He turned to look at the screen again to continue reading the command log as Flynn typed.
Version 4.0.1 generic_50203-02 sum4m j386
$login: -flynn
xx-xx-1987 17:57 <DIR> Space Paranoids
# bin/history
478 touch /opt/LLL/run/ok
479 LLLSDLaserControl -okay 1
…Laser control…? Alan heard the distinct hum begin behind him.
“Oh hell no -”
“Oh, yes , Dr. Bradley.”
“Flynn, this is leveling on mad scientist-”
“Well, it’s a good thing you came on up to the lab-”
“Flynn-”
“Checked out the slab-”
“ Kevin Flynn -”
“I see you shiver with antici-”
Oh god, this is how he died. And the last thing he heard was a bad Rocky Horror Show impression. Could Alan’s life be more of a joke?
The laser firing almost startled him as much as Flynn had moments ago. At least he had some warning about the laser…
The instant hot sensation of the laser hitting his spine was jarring. Like when you lay down at the beach and feel the intense rays of the sun beating down directly on your bare skin. Except Alan wasn't at the beach. And he had a dress shirt on. And a coat.
Alan had often wondered how it felt to be passed through a shredder and then attempted to be taped back together like the world’s crummiest scrapbook. Okay, well maybe he didn’t often wonder that, but that’s what his nihilism had always told him the laser was doing- even if Lora, Gibbs, and even himself had worked day and night to assure it actually was a picture perfect equivalent- like taking a Polaroid.
Maybe this is what it felt like to be the film in a Polaroid then? Each line of you burned away as it gets impressed onto something you never thought that your likeness could be captured on. Black nothingness into the perfect recreation of your entire being.
Alan was pretty sure Polaroids didn’t get vertigo though.
Gasping and tilting forward, Alan was aware of his person again. He could feel the warmth begin to spread from his back through his body, all the way down to his fingertips, leaving a sort of buzzing in his nerves. He felt like he needed to shake it out.
A pair of arms caught Alan before he could collide with the office chair that was now somehow upright again. Probably didn’t need to crash it over… Again. Alan thought that maybe he would actually throw up. God, he was so sick.
So why did he actually remember the audience participation?
And why did he say it?
“... Say it…”
“... pation .”
Alan growled in frustration and lifted his head to give Flynn the worst glare he could muster.
So what if he encouraged it by playing along? He blames Lora for insisting he join her and Flynn on their musical nights. They had him trained so well that he could step out of the room and still offer the audience participation from upstairs, putting the boys to bed- to be fair, it did get Sam and Jet to let out the best laughter when they didn’t understand the random phrases coming from him as he tucked them in. They even started to recognize the pattern and play along- thankfully not having asked to see the source material yet.
Right. Glaring at Flynn. Flynn and his stupidly charming smile mixed with the stupidly concerned look he was giving Alan that was not making his stomach stop the flips it was currently doing. And then there was also his stupid brown hair, his stupid blue eyes, and his stupid regularly colored skin and his stupid freckles that were regular colored again.
Oh.
Alan looked around, adjusting his glasses. They were still in the back office… Right? Where was the laser? Everything but the laser was still here. Well, except less chaotic. There weren’t any papers scattered, the chair was upright, and there weren’t bits and pieces of Flynn’s life hanging around. Odd.
“Welp, all we have to do now is leave,” Flynn spoke, nodding his head towards the stairwell. “We can take a Light Jet over to the Portal and beam out. I set the timer long in case you wanted to look around.” He smiled, looking back to Alan. “Legs still work?”
Alan nodded weakly, but didn’t let go of the grasp he still had on Flynn’s arms, thoughts beginning to pour in as he soaked all the information in. He was in the computer. God- actually in the computer! This was his dream ever since they announced the first desktop computer. Back when they still had to punch things into a paper for the damn things to work. Now he was in it . And he was starting to panic.
Uh oh . Flynn knew the face Alan was making. That’s the 'gears in Alan’s brain are starting to grind' face. And not in the good way.
“Alan, man… You still with me? What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
Alan was silent, his gaze focusing back to Flynn, his nails digging a bit harshly into his arms.
“I swear to God Flynn, or whatever you believe in- If I come back
pink
-”