Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Alan shivers against the warm air, stepping back under the shower-head and holding his breath. He hadn’t had the time or the care to shower since the news. His hands reach up to rub his exhausted eyes, remembering the way his chest felt when a picture of his best friend popped up on the tv screen. A face Alan has seen plastered on every magazine and news outlet he could think of,but this time it was different.

The headline usually read something to the tune of ‘millionaire genius does something incredible blah blah blah’, but this time Alan scanned his eyes over the words, ‘Kevin Flynn gone missing!’. He initially thought it was a prank. Kevin never lost his taste for being a menace to Alan, but a quick flip to another station and there Kevin was again. Alan’s chest heaved. His hands froze, he blinked at the floor shakily, not knowing what to do with himself. The news is how he finds out? He shook his head, grabbed his jacket and went for a drive to the Flynn’s house.

He steps back from the stream of water, still holding his breath, pretending to be numb to the burning his chest feels. After more than 48 hours since hearing about his best friend’s disappearance, he lets out a muffled sob, bracing a hand on the wall.

He had driven the speed limit the entire way to Kevin’s house, something Kevin was never a fan of. Alan looked in his rear view mirror, half expecting a motorcycle to pull up behind him. He sat in loud silence the entire way there.
Pulling into the driveway was a nightmare. Paparazzi lined the streets, and it took everything in him not to roll his window down and say things that would definitely end up on the news. ‘Top programmer for Encom, and friend of Kevin, let the paparazzi have it!’ Alan shook his head at the thought, opting to politely honk until the crowd cleared. The door opened before he could knock and Kevin’s parents stood in front of him, eyes red. They pulled him into their arms before he could get a word out.

Alan pulls the curtain open, grabbing a towel and absent mindedly finding his way to his bed. He climbs gently into the center and curls into his blankets.
“Kevin,” he whispers to the empty room. “Where did you go?”

“Sam is gone.” Flynn’s mom said. “He took off when he heard the news and we have no idea where he went, but with all the people… Kevin knows how to be in the spotlight, we don’t.” Alan nodded, turning back to his car and taking a step onto the porch.
“I’m sorry” Alan said, turning back to face the two. “I’ll bring Sam back.”
He drove slowly, scanning the side of the road and driving in the general direction of the beach. He knew it was going to be difficult to stomach, considering it’s Kevin’s favorite spot, but the chances of Sam being there were higher than anywhere else he could think of. A part of him still hoped Kevin would show up at the beach too. patting Alan’s back and joking about how good of a prank it was.
Alan sighed, pulling his car onto a sandswept parking spot. He gently put the car in park and turned the key. In the distance, on a dock, a bike sat alone. Alan hit his head on the car trying to get out. His eyes searched for Sam, static filled his chest again. He took off in a sprint, glancing around the beach and finding nothing but empty buckets and shovels. The heels of his shoes filled with sand as he ran to the bike, noticing something under the dock. The lower tide reached pathetically towards the beach but fell away before the next shallow wave could come.
Sitting under the dock, Sam sniffed angrily. Alan slowed to a gentle walk, rounding the wooden beams and leaning around with a soft smile.
“Hey kiddo,”

Alan tosses in his bed, feeling his insides itch. He knows logically he should eat something but his legs feel like cement. He closes his eyes, letting himself finally feel everything, he doesn’t have to be brave for anyone right now. His face contorts in a way he is consciously embarrassed of. He doesn’t remember the last time he actually cried but he knows he won’t forget this time.

Somehow the silence didn’t feel so loud with his godson in the passenger seat. Alan glanced at Sam leaning on his hand and watching the view pass him by. Sand had lodged between his curly hair strands.
“Hey kiddo,” Alan began, not entirely sure where his sentence was supposed to lead. “I know this is… a lot. I’m here for anything you need.” his eyes kept fixed on the road in front of him, hoping Sam’s eyes didn’t find their way to Alan’s shaking hands. “And if… if he’s still out there. I’ll find him.” his voice quivered, knuckles tightening around the steering wheel.
“Was it me?” Sam asked, barely over a whisper.
“What?”
“Did he leave because of me?” Sam turned to look at Alan for the first time, and now the silence pounded in Alan’s ears.
“No,”
“How do you know?”
“Sam, your father loved… loves you more than anything in the world. You should’ve heard him at the Encom office.” Alan smiled, remembering Kevin’s constant yapping about his kid, how he couldn’t wait to teach him how to ride his bike. “His favorite part of the day was getting home to you to tell you the new stories he came up with.”
“Was it Tron?”
“The stories?”
“Did he leave because of Tron?”
Alan pulled to the side of the road, putting the car in park and adjusting his glasses. Turning to Sam and looking at the boy who shared Kevin’s eyes, he put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and felt Sam deciding whether to shake it off or not. His shoulder stayed still.
“Your dad would never leave you for anything, Sam. Not anything. You’re his world. His entire world.” Alan tightened his grip on Sam’s shoulder slightly, feeling his pulse in his fingertips. His mouth opened to say something else, then closed without a sound.

Alan is jolted back to the present with a phone ring. His cell vibrates angrily against the bathroom floor in his pants pocket. His eyes crack open, noticing how much lower the sun is now. Maybe he finally got some sleep. He rolls to his stomach, pushing himself up and wrapping his towel around his waist. He pads to the bathroom and fishes his phone from his pocket. His hand reaches for his glasses on the counter and wipes dried droplets of water from the shower steam that sit in his peripheral annoyingly. The caller ID is Flynn’s parent’s landline. He sighs, flipping his phone open, knowing the call probably wasn’t good news.
“The police didn’t find anything at the arcade that they could use as evidence.” a feminine voice says shakily after he muttered a greeting. “They want us to come in.”
“More questioning?” Alan rubs his free hand down his face, giving up and tossing his glasses back on the counter.
“No, they said we can pack up his belongings now.” Alan hears her muffle a sob. “And they said they need his bike off the street.”
“I’ll be there soon. Is Sam coming?” Alan’s voice perfectly even.
“Sam is with his grandfather at the bakery right now.”
“Alright” Alan steps to his drawer and pulls a t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of boxers. “I’ll see you in a minute ma,”
“See you soon Alan,” he can hear the love in her voice.
The two of them had bonded quickly while planning Kevin’s wedding. They had talked about how much of a handful Kevin was but how they wouldn’t trade it for anything. They had both held Sam in the hospital, laughing as Kevin literally jumped around the room in excitement. They had both competed in being the best gift giver, ultimately leaving it a draw when Alan wrote a program with drones that projected ‘Happy birthday Sam’ on the ocean, getting in trouble with the police and making it on the news.
Now they both stood together in a dark arcade, not knowing where to start. Alan’s eyes avoid the massive TRON text sitting directly in front of him. He takes his friend’s hand and together they walk up the stairs to Kevin’s lounge. His projects sit, nearly untouched, waiting to be picked back up. Alan’s chest burns at the thought of Kevin running away from this, then it freezes at the thought of him being taken against his will.

The police are convinced it’s a kidnapping, even though they have no leads. Everyone that Kevin knew had been questioned and their houses searched, to no avail. Nobody knew when or where Kevin was at the time, and it wasn’t unlike him to get so engrossed in his work that he would disappear for days on end. The only things that tipped anyone off were his motorcycle sitting in front of the arcade and Edward Dillinger being stood up at a meeting. The arcade was found completely empty, and 24 hours later Kevin’s face was all over the news. In the coming day, Alan was taken into police custody temporarily, had his apartment torn apart by investigators, and had to sit there while the police came to zero real conclusions. He was fucking livid.

Alan hadn’t told anyone, but the week he went missing, he had a major fight with Kevin. Alan had been glad he wasn’t getting any phone calls or visits from Flynn, he needed space. Obviously now he knew why he wasn’t getting bombarded with ‘and another thing’ from his stubborn friend.
Alan shivers, reaching out and picking up a gameboy from the coffee table.
“We should get everything out of the fridge before we shut off the power.” Alan says, wishing he was saying any other words right now.
“He would want us to leave the arcade open,” grandma Flynn sighs, pulling the fridge door open and putting packets of string cheese into her tote bag.
“I really don’t have the time to keep this place going.” Alan looks out the window, cringing at the dust that settled on the tops of all the machines. “Maybe eventually, once this is all worked out.” he lets out a low breath and wishes he still smoked. She smiles at Alan, he knows she didn’t expect anything from him but she appreciated him trying to give her some comfort.
“I don’t…” She begins, continuing to put fistfuls of snacks into her bag, “I don’t think he was kidnapped.” she hisses a breath in, avoiding eye contact with Alan. “no ransom note, no struggle no…” her voice quivers and she’s had enough. Alan takes her bag and puts it on the floor, guiding her to the couch. Now was the time for him to be brave again.
“I don’t know where he is,” he rubs her shaking arms, “but I’ll do everything I can to bring him home.” He doesn’t blink, his eyes holding hers until she nods.
Together, they quietly pack up the essentials, leaving the rest for when they’re ready. Alan gives Mrs Flynn his car keys after pulling the spare Ducati key from the keyring. He watches her drive off before groaning to himself, remembering he completely forgot the key to the arcade. Stepping back inside, he roams the building, trying to remember where the spares were. He can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth as he remembers the dozens of phone calls from Kevin, begging Alan to bring his spare because he forgot his at home. Eventually Alan just copied his spare a few times and hid them around the lounge for Flynn to find next time he calls Alan in a panic.

Alan walks back into the office, admiring the pictures of Kevin’s family and friends hanging on the wall, his eyes lingering on Lora’s picture. Her arms are wrapped around Alan and Kevin’s shoulders. The boys hold a business license for Encom triumphantly in the air. He takes in a breath that stretches his ribs. I’m the last one left, He realizes. His legs suddenly feel too weak for his weight. After the crash that took Lora and Jordan, Alan had promised to keep Kevin and Sam as safe as he could. Now he stands in a warm empty room, more alone than he’d ever been. He isn’t even halfway through his thirties and he has to think about what he’s going to say at his best friend’s funeral.

Chapter Text

“Hey buddy,” Kevin chuckled, tickling Alan’s nose with his tie. Alan blinked up, confused, his blurry vision finding focus on the guy he couldn’t decide he liked or not. Whatever this was, it definitely wasn’t helping Flynn’s case.
“What?” he squinted groggily. Adjusting his glasses and sighing at how bent the frames got from laying on the desk. “When…”

“Sleeping Beauty’s been working too hard, man.” Kevin smiled like he couldn’t help it. It drove Alan crazy sometimes. “You missed my best meeting yet!” he patted Alan on the back with the mannerisms of a frat boy, not a CEO. “I’ll catch you up to speed, don’t worry. Do you ride?”

Alan blinked blankly, his expression still filtering out the harsh office lights and not even trying to hide his distasteful glare.
“What?” he said again. His mind finally fully returning to consciousness as Kevin nodded his head towards the exit.
“Jordan’ll want me home soon so it’s now or never, princess.” his smile only widened. His face always looked like he knew an inside joke that you didn’t. Alan groaned as he stood, catching a leather jacket flying in his direction as he passed through the door frame. “Put that on or your suit is gonna get absolutely plastered in bugs.” Flynn’s voice echoed through the hallway.

The answer was no, Alan had never been on a motorcycle. He didn’t even think he could stay upright on a bike. Flynn smiled at him, of course he smiled, and gave him the helmet sitting on the handlebars.
“Don’t you need a helmet?” Alan lifted the helmet at him.
“You’ll want it, trust me.” Flynn lifted his leg around the bike and held his hand out to Alan. “ready?” Alan stuffed the helmet over his head, grunting as the arms of his glasses pressed into his temples. The helmet smelled like sweat and cologne, and Alan blinked as he realized the observation wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Clenching his hands by his side a few times, he finally built the courage to take Kevin’s hand. Kevin wrapped his arm around his head, guiding Alan onto the bike behind him... Why did he say yes to this?... When did he say yes to this? His stomach churned as the bike purred to life. The sound was equally thrilling and terrifying. Flynn turned his head, his smile turned wicked as he revved. Alan gave a weak smile, wrapping his arms around Kevin’s shoulders and bracing as Kevin shifted into gear and drove into rush hour traffic.

Wearing his glasses was completely unnecessary, Alan thought, as he leaned his head into Kevin’s shoulder blades and kept his eyes squeezed shut. He felt Kevin’s back shake with laughter as he swerved between cars, passing them at a speed that made Alan want to throw up. The bike finally slowed as the sun stretched across the shoreline in red hues. Kevin turned the key and looked out over the beach, crossing his arms and letting out a satisfied breath.
“I’m taking my kids here every weekend when I’ve got them.” Flynn said softly, and for the first time Alan didn’t feel like he was on the outside of a joke.
“How many do you want?” Alan grunted, pulling the helmet from his head and feeling his hair stick to his forehead stupidly.
“Maybe three,” Flynn held his hand out to help Alan off the bike, following afterwards. Together they walked to a dock and Alan internally groaned at the thought of washing his suit after this.
“Uneven numbers seem like a bad idea,” Alan remarked, watching Kevin lean down and sit on the edge of the dock. His feet just barely above the nipping waves. Alan followed, listening to Kevin hum in response.
“I’m a fan of groups of three.” Kevin smiled, glancing at Alan. This time his smile most definitely was an inside joke, and this time Alan was in on it.
“We both know Lora was the only useful one.” Alan smiled, tilting his chin down with a knowing look.
“Exactly,” Flynn holds up three fingers. “The hot one, me.” he points at himself, flashing a smolder “the smart one, Lora.” he puts down two fingers, leaving his pointer finger to point at Alan. “and you!”
“What am I?” Alan deadpans, intrigue lacing his tone.
“Tbd.” Kevin shrugs. “But I know you’re cool, and you made Tron, who… which saved my ass.” his voice echoes softly under the dock, reverberated by the sun-stained salt water. “My point is, I owe you one.” His tone was softer than Alan had ever heard. “Thanks for helping me out, man. Lora is a lucky one.” Kevin clapped a hand on Alan’s shoulder, still wearing the leather jacket.

“It was nothing,” Alan laughed sheepishly. “But I’m glad I could help.” Alan smiled earnestly. Flynn was finally growing on him. It felt good knowing Kevin was laughing with him and not at him. He felt a little shallow for thinking it, in the first place.
The two talked for another thirty minutes about everything… except the meeting. When they decided it was time to go home, Alan braced himself for another motorcycle ride, glad that he had the helmet and jacket. He glanced at Kevin’s shirt, as they walked back to the nearly dark parking lot. He was right, bug corpses adorned his entire torso.

Back at the Encom parking lot, Alan handed the jacket back to Kevin who kept his arms crossed and shook his head.
“A gift for saving my ass… twice.” he said. Alan lifted his brow, twice? Kevin chuckled, dipping his face down. “I actually didn’t have much of anything prepared for the meeting today and you falling asleep was my excuse to send everyone home early for ‘being overworked’.” Flynn blinked at Alan somewhat guiltily. Alan blinked back.
“You’re giving me a used jacket for sleeping through your meeting…” Alan deadpanned. Flynn’s smile never seemed to leave his obnoxiously pretty face.
“Well mostly for saving my company from an evil British guy. I’ll get you something better eventually. I-”
“I’m kidding” Alan relished in finally being the one making the jokes. “Thanks, man.” he reached out his hand, clasping it with Kevin’s and wrapping his free arm around to pat Kevin on the back. “Drive safe.” he said, turning to walk to his honda civic, arguably the least sexy vehicle he could drive after being on a goddamn motorcycle. Maybe if there was a next time, he’d keep his eyes open.

Chapter Text

Alan wakes up in the arcade. He blinks groggily, confused why his apartment looks so musty before realizing where he is. Apparently he has a knack for falling asleep at inappropriate times. He glances down at his watch, 4 AM blinks up at him. He rolls his head back into the couch, deciding that he’s done enough damage control at Encom, and taking the morning off.
He pulls his stiff body from the couch that he’s sure Kevin has slept on dozens of times. His mind pings with a realization and he reaches into the cushions, pulling out a key… a bent key. Genius.

He lets himself drift downstairs. The only light in the arcade spilling in from the street lamps and neighboring business signs. Roaming from game to game, he chuckles as he glances at the whiteboard 'wall of fame'. Each game has the name ‘K3vn’ followed closely by ‘L0ra’ and a handful of regular’s usernames. The only leaderboard that doesn’t have Kevin’s username is Tron. Alan sighs. That’s got to be where the key is hidden.

He turns towards the game, centered dauntingly in the aisle. His footsteps feel light but the sound echoes loudly in the silent building. If he was anywhere else, the darkness and loneliness would’ve creeped him out. But this place is Kevin. Every game, meticulously chosen and coded to perfection. The place was as much a part of Kevin as his brain was.

Alan steps up to the stupid game, avoiding eye contact with the picture of Tron painted on the console. He always thought it looked way too similar to himself, but Kevin said it was on purpose because Tron was his program. Alan never quite understood what that had to do with anything but he knew Kevin would be too stubborn to repaint it and dropped his whining.

Hissing out a slow breath, he reaches above the machine, getting nothing but a handful of dust, coins, and chewed gum. He groans, flicking his hand away and watching the few coins drop to the floor. He squats down, pinching them into his hand. For good measure, he reaches under the game and only finds more dust bunnies. Exasperation fills his ribcage as he stands. Only one more place to look. Putting both hands around the machine, he leans backwards, shifting his weight from hand to hand to pull the box forward. There’s a snap and then a creak and Alan purses his lips as the entire thing falls into him, swinging like a door and throwing him off balance. He adjusts his glasses cartoonishly. Regaining his balance, he glances behind the game.

“What?” his voice echoes down a dark tunnel. Was this always here? Did Kevin know about it? Alan tosses a coin into the darkness, hearing it clack downwards until it rolls to a stop. Patting his pockets, Alan curses under his breath. The only light source on his person is his wimpy flip phone.

He sprints back up to the lounge, finding the first aid kit and cackling with relief when the batteries of the flashlight in the box actually work. The light flickers gently as he makes his way back to the machine. It sits exactly like it had before. He groans, walking to the side and leaning his weight into the game until a click and groans along with him. The console whirrs to life, scaring Alan out of his skin. Opening it must’ve activated something in the circuits.

“Welcome to the digital frontier,” a feminine voice says through a tinny speaker. “Insert coin to play!” the voice echoes behind Alan as he steps into the tunnel.

It just looks like a poorly constructed basement now that he can see what’s going on. Behind him there’s a click and the door closes behind him.

“Great.” Alan steps further downward, hoping the door isn’t one way. Flynn isn’t dumb enough to make a secret hideout that doesn’t open from the inside… right?

Creaking shoes echo down the staircase and eventually the path opens to a room. One wall has a table and across from it is… Lora’s digitizing laser?
“Kevin Flynn.” Alan groans into an empty room, hoping Kevin can feel his disappointment from wherever he’s hiding. “Your digital frontier was our apple zapper?” he spins in a slow circle, rubbing his eyes under his lenses. His eyes fill with white kaleidoscope looking shapes as he presses his fingers down. Does he take this to the police? Is this even a lead? If anything, it makes Encom look responsible. He sits in the chair in the middle of the room and pulls it to the desk… Not a desk. This is a computer! Alan types frantically, signing himself into the system. It mirrors Encom’s system and Alan navigates it with ease.
“The grid?” Alan reads. His eyes scan over the insanely complex code. This isn’t something a single man could code even if he lived two hundred years and never slept. Kevin was a devoted man but he could never write all of this. Alan glances behind him at the machine pointed directly at him. He begins digging into the code connected to it. It’s plugged in and ready to fire at will and Alan does a double take at the log. Not only did something go in… but it came back out without any buttons being pressed on the computer… several times. Alan pushes his chair back and rubs his eyes.

“Kevin,” he groans, letting the ‘in’ part of his name drag out. “Your mother is going to kill you.” he pulls his legs back under the table. “Or me,” he shrugs, “I hope it’s me.”

After scrolling through code for a hefty amount of time, Alan decides that he feels somewhat familiar with the system. Going back to the main menu, he follows the given instructions. A list of questions leads to a blinking ‘yes’ and ‘no’. Alan leans his chin into his hand. He stands, taking off his shoe and putting it on the chair. He leans down, pressing ‘yes’. Leaning away, he watches as his hand turns to pixels in front of him. He is not as fast as a laser, apparently. “Shit” The room fills with electricity. The laser buzzing loudly, burning the air around it. Alan feel like a total idiot. His voice echoes through the room, cut short as his head disappears. The room darkens again. A single shoe sits in the chair.

Chapter Text

Alan stares warily at the empty chair sitting in front of him, the light shining through the window bleeds and distorts around the seat. He looks around with his eyes, not daring to move his head or really any of his body. Lora always joked that the machine could turn anybody into a “human smoothie” and his organs feel intact as far as he can tell?. The air around him is still and stuffy, he braves a small movement.
Taking a breath inward, his chest heaves slowly. A moment passes and Alan’s organs still feel solid enough to him. He leans forward, slipping his other loafer off his foot and putting it on the now empty chair. He knows one shoe will probably be better than none but he also knows that if he has to explore Kevin’s digital frontier with one foot half an inch taller than the other, he is going to lose his mind. Blinking down at the screen, he reads “WELCOME, USER” and shakes his head in disbelief. Alan is pissed, and hurt, and confused, and wary, but on top of all of it all, he can’t help but feel proud of Kevin. This is pretty fucking amazing.

The arcade above is even better. Alan’s jaw actually drops at the sight. The room is dark but the walls are lined with harsh light. Circuit board adjacent strips flow down the walls and behind the machines. Alan steps towards Kevin’s favorite game, toggling the joystick and laughing in amazement as sparks of light race down the handle and into the game. The screen flicks from a lifeless black to a dim black.

A moment passes as the computer powers on. Instead of a game appearing on the screen, a circle does. It almost looks like a loading screen but it doesn’t spin or move. Alan adjusts his glasses, toggling the joystick again and leaning in as the circle disappears and text pops up. The font looks exactly like what Alan is used to coding with. The text reads,

Welcome program,

Lost disc recovery and replacement. Place finger on joystick.

Alan follows the directions given to him after a second of hesitation.

Program not recognized. Remove finger and try again.

Alan groans. Not so different from his world after all.
Putting his thumb back on the joystick, the computer lags ever so slightly. Alan sees the reflection of his face on the screen as the text flickers.

Program identified. [ERROR] Welcome, User [ALAN]

Letters flood the screen, identifying Alan and assigning him an identity in the grid. Alan’s forehead wrinkles wondering why he isn’t considered a program, and what a program actually is. Below him, a rattle of metal clunks down the machine. There’s a soft thump and Alan notices that where the tickets usually spit out, a small rectangle cutout that resembles a CD tray sits. Beside it, a small button blinks to life. Alan leans down, tapping the glowing circle and watching the rectangle slide out of the machine. Instead of a CD though, a different disc lies on the tray, glowing in the same way that the walls do.

Alan gently touches it, running his fingers across the cool metal. His hand wraps around and as he lifts it, he notices how right it feels in his hand. Its sturdy weight counter balances just enough without being heavy. The lights running around its circumference feel warm against his palm. His throat fills with laughter and as he tosses it gently in the air in disbelief, catching it a few times before realizing he had absolutely nowhere to put it and will have to carry it the whole time he’s here.

“Thanks Kev,” Alan huffs. The screen’s display is different when he glances back at it. The toggle glows dimly, encouraging him to toggle one way or another.

request master disc permissions?

YES NO

Alan clicks his tongue, humming “sure,” and toggling left. He watches the screen return to the empty black it was before turning and stepping outside. He doesn’t lock the door.