Chapter Text
Sweat mixed with tears the longer she dragged them through the city. It blurred her vision, making the already indistinguishable buildings and alleys a blur of shadow. Anytime she would pause for her breath, she could hear men calling into the night. Her partially restored breath would hitch, and she would drag on. Conceriningly, her Tron never stirred with more than a soft groan, and the little undamaged skin he had was burning in her grip.
When the alleys and shadows finally parted to a moonlit sky, Yori felt as if all lost air had returned to her in a rush. Surely they were at the edge of the city, now. Any other option would expose them, damn them…
She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve, which only made her eyes sting from the dirt. However, her vision cleared enough for her to look around.
Her back spasmed as she straightened to see the alleyways from whence they came. In her peripherals, faint lights dotted the skyline at far distances, homes settling for the night. She risked looking behind her to see a house, already dark for the night. Still, she pulled herself and Tron out of sight of the windows and to the side of the house.
They were safe. For now. But more than anything, they needed shelter. Tron surely couldn’t make it much further, not like this.
She peeked around the side of the house, beyond into the field. Whoever owned this property had fenced off this field, where cattle had settled to sleep. And beyond them, a barn sat, only lit by the moon above.
The ache that had been settling into her bones gave to her a burst of hope. She hoisted Tron up by his armpits. Her husband didn’t respond this time, head lolling forward to his chest. The moonlight reflected the new blood on his abdomen and leg.
“Come on…” She begged quietly as she began to drag him along the fenceline, separating them from the cattle and bulls with only the aging wood and barbed wire. “Don’t give up on me, love.”
It felt like eternity, but the moon had barely moved in the sky by the time she reached the barn. Thankfully, it only took a simple push for the barn door to creak open. She sighed in relief, making the final stretch of their journey into the dark barn. The smell of hay and animal overwhelmed her senses immediately, but at least they were safe. She dragged Tron to a pile of hay and laid him on it. He was soundless as he sank into it, only slightly illuminated by the moonlight streaming in. Until she could find a lantern, that would have to do for now. She knelt next to him and allowed herself to really look at him.
She hadn’t been imagining things earlier. A large cavern had been etched into his face where his left eye used to be. She couldn't stare long into the cavern as she felt bile rising in her throat at the sight of exposed tissue and ripped skin. Instead, she allowed her gaze to follow the trail of wounds down his neck and chest and tried to ignore the way his breath rattled. His left pant leg was shredded, and the skin beneath was stained red. His left arm was twisted at an odd angle that was disturbingly limp, and blood flowed down from his gaping shoulder.
“Oh, Tron,” she whispered, her hand cupping the right side of his face. Unconsciously, he leaned into her touch, and she finally felt the heat in his face. She placed her other hand against the uninjured part of his head, where her worries were confirmed.
Forget making it out of the city; he may not make it through the night.
Her hand trembled as she pulled away. His brow furrowed, and his head turned to search for her touch with a groan. “...Yori?” He begged softly through cracked lips. He hadn’t opened his eye. Maybe he thought he was dreaming.
She instantly returned to his side, close enough that her words would trace his skin. “I’m here.” She promised, pushing his hair back. “I’m here.”
His eye fluttered open, and she could see how glassy it was. If she had any doubt, she was now certain a fever was setting in. Despite everything, the lines in his face relaxed when he finally saw her. “You’re here.”
She nodded and took his uninjured hand. Surprisingly, he tried to pull away and shook his head.
“Tron-”
“Y-you shouldn’t be here.” He managed. “If Dyson finds you, h-he’ll-”
“Tron.” She squeezed his hand. “Dyson isn’t here. You’re safe.”
It was as if he didn’t hear her. He tried to sit up and gasped at the movement. Yori took the opportunity to lay him back down. There’s a tear on his cheek- or perhaps it was sweat or maybe even blood-and he shook his head. “I-I can’t lose you. Not to him.”
“You won’t lose me.” She promised. “He can’t get us now.”
He didn’t respond, but settled back into a feverish daze. She sighed softly and pressed her lips to his forehead, hoping to soothe. He couldn’t die, not in this barn. Not like this.
Think Yori think!
First things first: she needs to clean off the dried blood, she thought as she oriented herself. Figure out the source of the bleeding and then go from there.
Her eyes struggled to adjust in the dark as she rose to her feet. She removed her bandanna. This would do for fabric, for now. But to find some water…
She blindly made her way from their corner towards the rows of stables. Maybe one of these had some water.
The horses eyed her warily as she crept by. One huffed and turned its back to her, and she paused at its stall to peek. There, just inside! She could see the trough from where she stood at the door. She’d rather not step inside, in case the horse was unfriendly. But maybe, if she could just reach…
A rifle clicked behind her, and she froze.
“Hold it right there!”
Shit!
“Turn around with your hands up.” The voice of the shooter demanded. Surely they hadn’t been caught!? “Slowly.”
Yori was left with no choice but to obey. She held her hands up next to her head and slowly turned. She squinted to try and see her captor’s face, but they were smart and stood in a shadow. All she could see was the muzzle of the rifle aimed at her face.
“...Who are you?” She couldn’t help but ask.
“I’m the one asking questions here!” The gunman snapped. “What the hell are you doing on my property?”
At his question, she couldn’t help but relax. It wasn’t Clu. “I’m sorry for bothering you. I can explain…”
“You better start talking.” He commanded. “I don’t take kindly to trespassers or horse thieves.”
“Horse thieves?” She shook her head. “Oh no sir, I’m not-”
“Stop lying!” He snapped. She instantly shut up. “You have five seconds to get the hell out before I start shooting. Five!”
“Please, sir! I-I just need-”
“Four!”
She began backing away. The gunman came out of the shadows, revealing an older man with graying hair but a piercing glare. The rifle remained aimed at her face. She was so focused on it, she tripped over something and stumbled. She managed to catch herself, looking back to find her path.
“Three!”
Instead, she noticed the pile of hay Tron had been lying on was unoccupied, and she couldn’t help but gasp. Where is he??
“Two!”
Her gaze shot back up to the guman. Tron was gone. She was alone and cornered.
“One-” The word is choked in the gunman’s throat when a bloody hand shot out of the shadows, wrapping around his neck. The gunman’s eyes bulge, but he slammed the butt of his rifle back with all his strength. Tron’s air ripped from him, and his grip slipped back into the shadows. There’s a loud THUD and Yori gasped.
“TRON!” Threat forgotten, Yori shoved past the gunman to her husband. He’s slumped against the wall. One of the scars on his side has reopened and is bleeding out. “Shit!”
“TRON?!” The gunman instantly pointed his rifle down at the floor at the name. Yori didn’t dare look back to parse his reaction.
At the gunman’s voice, Tron lifted his head with a groan. Despite the pathetic sound and the sweat gathering on the remains of his brow, he managed a glare as he growled: “Leave her alone.” His voice cracked on the last word, breaking off into a coughing fit. One rough cough spits blood down his chin and into his lap. His arm gave out beneath him. His chest slamming into the ground beneath him unleashed a torrent of liquid in his chest that spilled over his lips. With each wheeze, his eye was beginning to grow glassy and shut.
“No no no-” She cupped his face as she begged: “Stay with me.”
“That's…” Yori couldn't hide the tears in her eyes as she looked up to the gunman. The man was choosing his words carefully, but his grip hadn't relented on the gun. “How is he alive?”
“I don't have time to explain.” She managed, her voice wet. “Please, he needs medicine. I-i don't have much money, but I'll give you what I have if you just please…”
The gunman frowned, and for a moment, he looked away from them and out towards the house. After a short pause, the man nodded. “Wait here. I’ll be back.”
With that, the man took off. Yori watched him go, still holding on to her husband. She pulled him closer to her chest. The man was already out of sight, and she prayed he was being honest and had not gone to flag down a soldier. She wouldn’t be strong enough to handle a soldier; they had barely escaped as it is!
Moments passed, and Yori still found herself frozen to the spot, praying to some force above while her eyes searched the ground for a weapon. Even though she was never a competent fighter, she wouldn’t let Clu get Tron easily.
Footsteps thud, growing in volume as they close in. Yori, unfortunately, could not find a suitable weapon, but was relieved when the man returned alone.
“Here.” He set the box down in front of them and crossed to the stables. A match lit in the night, and the man went to each lantern, filling the barn with light. Finally, he returned to the couple. “Lay him down.”
Yori heeded his gentle instruction and was careful to lay Tron on his back. Still, her heart clenched as her husband groaned. His eye flickered open before rolling back into his head moments later.
“Fill this bucket with water.” The man instructed, passing her a bucket. He pointed around the corner. “There’s a pump over there.”
She nodded and hurried to fill the bucket. When she returned, the man was prepping a concoction.
“...What is that?” The man looked up at her question. However, he didn’t seem angry. Just worried.
“Laudanum. It’ll numb the pain. I wish I had some morphine. That would work better for his state…”
“This will have to work.” She told him and set the bucket down next to him. The man nodded.
“Can you help me make sure he swallows it?”
She nodded and sat back down across from him, next to Tron’s head. Gently, she propped Tron up and held his head straight. She tried hard to ignore her husband’s pants as the man poured the mixture down his throat, massaging the unscathed parts of Tron’s neck to make him swallow. Only when he did, did she lay him back down.
“It should start working soon.” The man said, pulling out a bottle of alcohol. He turned it over against a rag, letting it moisten the fabric. “I’ll need to start now to make sure he doesn’t get an infection.”
She nodded, biting her lip. “Do what you need to do. I’ll keep him calm.”
The man actually seemed relieved at that. “Thank you.”
Her hands went to Tron’s shoulders. She squeezed them once and leaned close to whisper: “I’m here.” She took a deep breath to steel herself and kept a tight grip as the old man set to work.
“There.” The old man sighed, sitting back on his knees. He wiped the sweat off his brow, unintentionally smearing blood across his forehead. “I’m afraid that’s the best I can do for now.”
“Thank you.” Yori said, her first words in hours. Tron slept in her lap, leaning into her thigh as she ran a hand through his hair. Finally, he slept soundly. “I don’t know how to repay you…”
“Don’t.” The old man cut her off. He groaned as he readjusted himself off his knees. “I didn’t do this for thanks. And don’t go tellin’ people I did this. I got too many mouths to feed to be getting that kind of attention.”
“I don’t have anyone to tell,” Yori admitted, looking down at her husband again. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have anyone now.”
The old man paused at that. “...Who are you?”
Yori dared looking up to the man again. “My name is Yori.” Her hand stilled in Tron’s hair as she awaited whatever reaction the old man might have. “Tron is my husband.”
“Yori…” The old man simply stared at her for a long moment. His icy gaze was surprisingly defrosting with each passing second. “I’ve heard of you. Not sure where, though.”
Tron groaned weakly below them. Yori looked down and resumed running her hand through his hair. His expression softened, and he went quiet again.
“Our friend helped me break Tron out of prison….” She bit her lip to hold back the tears before she steadied herself again. “He didn’t make it.”
The man hummed softly. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He settled down on a hay bale nearby with a soft sigh. “This world is going to hell in a handbasket. Do you know what Clu is saying about Tron?”
“No.” Her brow furrowed. “What is he saying?”
“He says that Tron betrayed everyone. That he was planning to run with Flynn and let everyone fend for themselves.”
She couldn’t help her gasp. “He would never!”
“I know that, and you know that, and anyone with half a brain knows that. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how many people are using those right now. The city is hanging on to Clu’s every word, turning on the ISOs in the city. You could hear their screams from out here.”
“No…”
“Had to tell my kids they were hearing wolves, not people. Not sure Bodhi believed it; kid’s too smart for his own good. That’s why I have to get us out of here.”
“You have children?” Yori asked, then hesitated. “I realized I never asked your name…”
The old man waved it off. “I didn’t give it, but I reckon you don’t have anyone to share my name with. My name is Able. I have four kids up at the house, ranging between 4 and 8.”
“They’re so young.” She said softly.
Able’s gaze grew heavy. “I know. That’s why we’re getting out of here on the next wagon train. I won’t let them see this violence every day, and I’d rather die than lose any of them to this madness.”
“Where will you go?”
“Beyond the railroad. Somewhere Clu can’t reach. Right now that seems to be the Argon settlement, down southwest.”
Argon. Yori briefly remembered Tron mentioning that settlement. So brand new, he hadn’t even been out there to inspect it yet. “Sounds perfect.”
Able nodded and looked out the crack in the door. After a long silence, he sighed and pushed up to his feet. “Moon’s starting to set, so I better get back. We’re leaving tomorrow morning. Nobody’s been looking at the house, but someone does have their sights on the barn. You two can move into the house tomorrow night until he’s well enough to move. Then I suggest you get the hell out of here.”
“Able?” He looked back at her call. Despite everything, she managed a small smile. The smallest hope. “Thank you.”
Able simply nodded. “Keep each other alive. You two may be our only hopes left.” And with that, he ambled into the night.
He couldn’t stop falling.
Clu’s grin grows larger and larger the further Tron falls. Then, it suddenly shrinks, starting all over again. When will it end-?!
Something cold wrenched his eyes open with a gasp. His throat burned, and his left eye was dark, while his right blurred-
The shush and the hand tracing his face were both gentle. Something deep inside screamed at him to get away, but his body wouldn’t respond.
Somebody spoke, and Tron knew he should listen, but his eyes shut against his will, pulling him back into the pit.
There were bodies everywhere.
Tron should move, should investigate the damage. Whatever could have caused this many casualties should be found, stopped-
Yet he rolled through space like water, slow to sit up. Something sharp and heavy pinned his left arm, slowing him to a near stop. With the simplest tug, his arm suddenly ripped away. Blood spurted from the stump, and Tron couldn’t hide his scream as he scrambled away. Without his body, his arm went limp, his hand stuck beneath a corpse. Reeve held his arm in place, wide eyes staring up at nothing. The hole in his head bled trickles down his face, painting his skin red.
Tron’s hand clung tight over his mouth as suddenly Reeve sat up. Blood turned his pupils black. He turned and pinned Tron to the spot with his pupiless stare.
“Where were you?” Reeve’s corpse rasped. He began to crawl towards Tron, legs dragging limply behind him. Blood stained the floor with each strain forward. “Why didn’t you save me?”
Tron let go of his face to scrabble back from the body. “I-I didn’t know-”
“Why not?” Tron’s back hit a table. Breath almost drowning out Reeve, he pulled himself to his feet. Looking down, he could see the trail of blood streaming behind Reeve, pooling among the other bodies. “How could you have been so blind?”
Something brushed Tron’s hand, and he instantly jerked back with a gasp. Klax’s lifeless eyes blinked up at him, the holes in her head matching Reeve’s. Her movements were jerky as she pushed herself off the table. Though unsteady, she remained on her feet and began to shuffle towards him.
“Dyson did this to us.” She spoke. More bodies clamber from the piles towards them in the same lifeless limp. “And you never even stopped him. You let him take us.”
“I-I didn’t….Klax, I’m so sorry-”
A third body grabbed his wrist, and he whipped to them with a gasp. He tried to pull away but the corpse remained tight. Reeve latched onto his left ankle. His unblinking eyes stared up at Tron, challenging him to kick Reeve away. And Tron…couldn’t.
A fourth corpse pulled at his right knee, and the joint gave. Tron slammed to his knees, repeating a litany of sorrows to his fallen men. They fall on deaf ears as hands scrabble for a hold of his arm, his chest, his face- he’s drowning in them, choking on their streaming blood.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
He’s slammed onto his back. His litany crumbled at the sight above him.
“Dyson?” The man in question grinned down at him, jarring against the prosthesis. The two-pronged drill in his hand whirred to life.
“No…please no! You can’t do this!” He struggled against the weight of the writhing corpses on top of him, only to remain pinned. The drill lowered closer and closer…
“NO-!”
“Tron!” The voice sounded familiar, but in the way of a ghost calling out to him that made bile rush up his throat. It couldn’t escape his mouth! He must still be choking on the blood-!
His blurry world disorientingly turned. Suddenly, the blood escaped from his mouth, his bile, everything escaped-
The gag was what pulled him out of the haze. He was staring at a wooden floor, and when his vision cleared, he could see the clear puddle of liquid beneath him. His stomach lurched, and he vomited again.
He almost didn’t feel the gentle hand on his back until he heard the soft shush in his ear. The hand traced circles, just like Yori would when he was upset. He should push this away, but his body doesn’t respond to the thought.
It took a long moment to stop vomiting, and he finally had to gasp for air. He had to breathe, he was so close to blacking out, his vision on his left was already black-
“It’s okay.” Yori’s voice whispered. It must be some sick trick of Dyson’s. “You’re safe.”
At the name, anger surged enough strength through his body to curl away from the touch. “Don’t touch me.” He hissed.
There was a small huff, so similar to Yori’s, but they didn’t touch him again. “It’s me, Tron. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
He refused to answer. Talking back must have gotten him into this mess. He won’t make that mistake again.
“It was just a nightmare.” Not-Yori continued. “You’re safe here, with me…”
He shook his head, but the small gesture blurred his vision with a harsh throb that pulled a groan from him. She sighed, and the weight on the bed rose. Worn boots and dirtied trousers stepped around the pile of sick before kneeling in front of him.
She must be a ghost. A trick. Could she really be in front of him?
“....Yori?” He rasped. She smiled encouragingly at that.
“It’s me, Tron. You’re safe. Now, let’s lay you back down.”
This time, he didn’t fight her as she helped him. His back rested into something soft, his head on a soaked yet soft pillow. His gaze followed her hands down as she fussed with a fabric sling on his arm, straightening it so it raised his left arm level. Even though part of her hand left his vision, he let her press the back of her hand against his forehead. After a long pause, she pulled away.
“Feels like your fever’s broken. The worst should be over. Let’s get you some water.”
She reached over him and came back with a tin. His left fingers wriggled as he tried to reach for it, only to groan at the flicker of pain.
“Let your arm rest. It needs to heal. Here.”
She held the tin up to his lips. The cool metal brought attention to his dry and cracking lips, and he swallowed greedily when she poured the water.
“Slowly.” She chastised softly, but without any real edge to her voice. Still, he obeyed, savoring the cool taste until she pulled it away. “That’s enough for now. You can have some more later.”
He wanted to say something, to at least acknowledge her. But his muscles screamed for rest, and opening his lips became a gargantuan effort as his eyelids dropped.
He heard her chuckle and felt a gentle press of her lips against his forehead. “Get some more rest. I’ll be here.”
Spots of sunlight pressed against his eyelids, trying to pierce through. His head throbbed in response, and the groan of pain escaped before he could stop himself. What time was it?
He pried his eyes open to find himself staring up at the peak of the sun through a worn curtain. The fabric was dark, unrecognizable. The walls were foreign, nothing like that prison he had last been in. Where is he…?
The memories rushed back in. Dyson. The scalpel.
Yori…
“Yori?” He dared to call. His voice wavered, dying in the crowding silence. A lump grew in his throat. He couldn’t see on his left (the scalpel-) so he had to turn his head to an empty wall. This made no sense, she had been here-! “Yori!”
Something creaked back on his right, and he rolled his head back as fast he could to see a door in the corner of the room open and there. She was here, and in moments she was by his side.
“I’m here.” She promised, reaching out and cupping his face. Her skin was so warm, so real-
It was hard to swallow beyond the lump. “You’re here.” His voice failed him again, his words soft.
“I am.” She repeated softly. “And you’re safe now.”
He grimaced at the thought, and the skin on the left side of his face protested the movement.
“Well,” she amended her statement. “Clu at least doesn’t know where you are.”
Tron took the moment to examine the room again. It certainly didn’t look like a prison. In fact, it seemed to be a bedroom, but it was empty…
“...And where are we?”
“In the farmlands. Outside the city.”
"How did we…?" He broke off when her smile faded. "What happened?"
She couldn't meet his gaze anymore and instead took his right hand. "Ram and I broke you out when they were trying to transport you. We thought we were going to get away, but they managed to flip the wagon. Ram got trapped underneath. I didn't have time to get both of you, so I had to leave him. He…" Her bottom lip trembled, and she took a shaky breath. "He went down with a fight. But they killed him."
Tron didn't mean to, but his grip loosened on her hand at that. His faint awareness wished to float away, to join Ram off this earth. The three of them had moved out here together. Ram had been his friend since childhood. There were countless hellos, but he never got to say goodbye…
Yori pulled out of his grip, bringing him back to the present. She turned away from him, eyes brimming as she hurriedly wiped at them. Her exhale was shaky, threatening to well into a sob.
"Yori…"
"I'm sorry." She whispered, still not able to look at him. "We should have been more careful. I should have saved him-"
"Stop that." Tron said firmly. She froze at that, hunching on herself. With a grunt, Tron reached out to place his hand on her leg. "That kind of guilt won't bring him back. Trust me, I know."
She didn't answer, so he continued with a sigh.
"What's done is done. Everything that has happened has been a mix of bad choices and mistakes from everyone. But unfortunately, all thinking about them will do is bring pain and blind us to what we should do now." He realized his words were all rough-edged, not exactly comforting to his wife. With a small sigh, he squeezes her leg. "I'll…miss him. We both will. But he wouldn't want us to wonder what we could have done differently. Not while we're still alive."
She finally turned to look at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her expression was hard to read until she finally nodded.
"You're right." She exhaled, looking down at his hand. She took it again. "He wouldn't."
Tron nodded, leaning back into his pillow unwillingly. That exhaustive weight was beginning to return. "We need to make a plan."
"We'll make one." She promised. Her expression was beginning to settle again, returning to the blend of concern and determination. "But for now, you need to rest some more."
He opened his mouth to protest, tired as he is, but was broken off when she kissed his forehead. "Rest." She whispered.
He loved his wife. His mind and being all knew it as they began to drift. What could he do but obey?
The sun had yet to show itself this morning, so Yori stared at her reflection with the help of a dented pot and a candle. The knife in her hand was heavy, slowly pointing more and more towards the floor.
The mattress shifted behind her, and Tron gave a near imperceptible hiss. Own problems forgotten, she turned to see him slowly prop himself up with his working hand.
"Are you sure you can handle the journey?" She was the first to break the dawn silence.
Tron finally looked at her, taking in the knife resting in her hand with little concern. "I can walk." He finally rasped, voice heavy with sleep for the first time in years. Before she could argue that that wasn't what she asked, he canted his head to the knife. "What are you doing?"
Yori considered the blade in her hand once more. The candle glinted off the metal.
"They'll be looking for us." She said, finally. "Even with our plan, we'll need to be able to blend in. Plus," she turned the knife, watching the light bounce off with each rotation, "it'll just get in the way long term."
If Tron understood what she meant, he didn't comment on it. However, he didn't stop her either when she took a shaky breath before curling her hair into her fist. The blade rose higher, and higher, before shearing through the locks with surprising resistance. She let go, and her hair fell to the floor. Her breath left her with a tremble. It's done…
She didn't hear him approach until his hand was on her shoulder. She didn't look at him. She couldn't pull her gaze from the shimmering arc of hair spread across the wood….
"…I like it." Tron spoke up after a long moment. His hand was gentle as it traced the nape of her neck, wiping off stray hairs.
Her hand followed his. It felt….lighter. Emptier. "You do?"
"I do." He confirmed, before kissing the top of her head. He held the moment, nose buried in her scalp, taking in her warmth.
Yori glanced up to the window. The first rays of light were beginning to peek through. "It's almost time." She gently pulled away to stand. It was hard to take her gaze off the sun, but Tron's hand squeeze was grounding. "We should get moving."
The train was practically waiting for them as the sky began to tinge with daylight. They approached, brims pulled low. Even though the yard was surprisingly empty, her head was a rotating swivel as the two shuffled towards the train. She could tell Tron was doing the same, his grip around her shoulder tight as if he dared the world to separate them again.
The duo reached the train car without anyone pouncing down on them. Only then does Yori dare to push open the car door. It required more force and a heavy grunt before it rolled back with a CLANG. Both cringed as the sound echoed through the yard. But nobody came searching.
"Okay." Yori breathed. "Up. Quickly."
Tron squeezed her closer to him, their earlier argument about this part on his tongue. He'd be damned if he lost her again. She huffed, though, and he finally let go.
His good hand planted on the edge of the car. He tried to bend his knees to spring himself up. His bad leg gave at the weight, making his lunge sloppy and flopping. "Shit!"
Yori caught his legs. "I got you." She laced her hands beneath his feet, and Tron tried to ignore the flush through his face, thankful at least that no one was around to witness this.
One final push sent Tron's momentum rolling into the train car. As he tried to catch his breath, Yori vaulted up after him. "Are you okay?"
"Fine." He shakily huffed. Still, her hands were around his waist as she helped him back up.
"Here, the hay…"
He went without complaint, sighing as he landed among the straw. She hurried to the door, and the two took one last glimpse of the rising sun before the door slid shut.
They were left in the dark. Sleep threatened to overtake him simply from the slight exertion, but he forced himself to focus on the small sliver of light that snuck in. His wife stood half in its light, half in shadow as she settled down across from him. Taking guard, like he usually would. The flush on his face grew.
"Sorry." He muttered into the dark. His eyelids were getting heavy, but he noticed Yori stiffen.
"What for?"
The words tumbled in his mouth as he considered them, letting silence stretch between them. Finally, she sighed as she understood. "Tron, you were tortured." She scooted closer. "You're lucky you walked away from it."
"I shouldn't have ended up there." He murmured. "I should have been able to predict that Clu would turn on his father, that Dyson…" He couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence.
"How could you have predicted it?" She prompted. She didn't give him time to answer. "You couldn't. No one could. You shouldn't beat yourself up over what they did."
Maybe she was right, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there must have been some sort of sign…
He was pulled out of his spiral as she slid into his side. Her hand was gentle but firm as she guided him to look at her. Even in the dark, he could see her eyes taking him in: his bandaged eye, his bruised cheek, his set jaw…
"Even if there was something you could have predicted, there's nothing we can do about it now." Her thumb traced a circle on his cheek, soothing the aching bruise. "Just like you told me, all we can do is keep moving."
He wanted to believe that, he really did. But the ghosts clung to him, trying to pull him back with them…
"Tron." Her voice was grounding, and he blinked to find her pressing their foreheads together, practically in his lap. "Stay with me here. Remind me of the plan."
Plan? What plan…?
It came to him in moments, almost automatic. "Ride the train to the end of the line."
"Good." She praised softly. "Then what?"
"Start…start walking." For how long? Tron wasn't sure, but Yori seemed satisfied with the answer. She rewarded him with a kiss. The warmth wrapped around him, chasing off ghosts with light and weight that held him firmly on the car floor.
Right, they were in a train car already. How had he managed to forget that?
"Feel better?" Yori asked when she finally pulled away, just enough for her breath to brush his chin.
"…I think so." He admitted. The weight was growing into exhaustion again, and he felt too disoriented to fight it. He had to remember the plan. Ride the train. Get off. Start walking.
But for how long?
He wasn't sure, but Yori didn't let him dwell on that. Her hands guided him back into the hay, a surprising comfort. "Rest." She whispered. "I'll keep watch."
He knew he would. She never wanted to lose him again, just like he couldn't bear to lose her. She slid off his lap and nestled back into his side. The faint light that had snuck in had grown brighter, moving closer to them and then receding as the train began to roll. The gentle rocking and the warmth of his wife at his side finally lulled him into a blessedly dreamless sleep.