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Just their luck.
Tron’s healing chamber had gone down. Without Able’s expertise, Beck was having a hell of a time figuring out how to fix it.
Which meant in the meantime, Tron had nowhere to recharge.
He’d insisted he could get by without plugging in. Beck had assumed it was him being evasive about his health, but lo and behold, there he was, standing in a corner fast asleep. His circuits pulsated slightly as he dozed.
So Tron was one of those people, who just froze themselves in place wherever and entered sleep mode.
Personally, Beck couldn’t get to sleep without a nice comfy bed. But if it worked for Tron…
No sooner had Beck left him to his snoozing though than he heard a thunk.
Tron’s legs had given out, and he fell without the healing chamber to hold him in place.
Beck shook him awake.
“Hey. Hey!”
“Hm? How’d I get down here?”
“You fell.”
“Did I? That’s not meant to happen.”
“That’s it. I’m getting you a bed.”
Tron sighed.
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll sleep on the ground.”
Beck gaped at him.
“You are not; sleeping on the ground!”
“What, because I’m old and damaged?”
Unable to think of anything else, he blurted out “…yeah!”
It may have technically been true, but it was clearly the wrong response.
Tron threw him a sullen glare, pulled down a wall panel and squished himself into a hidden alcove. Ignoring Beck’s protests, he sealed himself in.
This guy was impossible.
***
Beck lugged a bed into the lair the next time he came.
Tron just kind of looked at it.
“Thanks. But I don’t need it.”
”You’re sore. You need a bed.”
“I’m no more sore than normal,” he said as he fixed his posture.
Tron stayed awake the whole time until Beck had to leave. He suspected the bed would go unused.
***
Next time Beck came back, Tron wasn’t awake in the main room. That must mean he was asleep, but Tron wasn’t standing or lying anywhere Beck could see.
He snuck over to the bed, hoping the monitor had taken it up.
It was empty.
He checked the wall alcove from last night.
That was empty too.
He checked storage, in the lockers, even the simulation room. He peeled back every peelable wall panel in the main room.
Tron was nowhere to be found.
Beck tilted his head back and groaned in frustration. Then he caught sight of something dangling from the rafters.
It was Tron’s foot. He was lying across one of the beams.
“How did you even get up there?!”
No response.
This from the guy who woke up every time a recogniser so much as adjusted its height in the distance. But when Beck literally tore up his lair looking for him, not a peep.
He positioned the bed underneath Tron, in case he rolled off the side.
For a moment he considered trying to make him fall and land him in it, but that would go poorly.
He’d have to wait for him to fall asleep at ground level and try moving him then.
***
Being without a proper recharge point plus losing energy to the malware was starting to get to Tron, so when he wasn’t training Beck, he spent most of his time asleep in ridiculous places. Probably so he wouldn’t get caught napping.
Beck made a kind of game of finding him.
Unfortunately, Tron seemed to like either high places or squishy places. In other words, places he’d be hard to locate and extract from.
Whenever he failed, Beck would be forced to wait until he appeared from nowhere in that way he did.
He’d been in the lockers. And under the floors of the simulation room. And splayed out on the roof of his screen array.
A favourite was a thin floor-length cabinet, where he squished in among the staffs and batons in a standing position. Probably because there wasn’t enough room for him to faceplant like he had before.
More than once Beck went in there to grab one and got a Tron arm instead. The third time, Tron just handed one out to him and closed the door.
Beck finally won the bed war by complete accident.
He’d just had a brush with deletion, and came back frazzled.
He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about it. He pushed his bed to the far end of the room, away from the door and windows, and hid under the covers.
Even without plugging it in, and not intending to sleep, he was so exhausted that being in bed had him out like a light.
He woke up feeling cosier than he had in a while. He was snuggled into something big and warm.
A soothing rumble vibrated through him, along with the comforting electric hum of a program signature. Strong arms held him in place. Beck nestled into a broad chest-
Wait a minute.
He opened his eyes to circuitry.
A familiar T right next to his face.
This was Tron.
He’d tucked Beck’s head underneath his chin and clung to him with all four limbs like a gridbug.
This did not compute. Tron normally kept his distance, except for the occasional hand on the shoulder, or a tackle during training.
He’d never got this close.
“Hey. Tron.“
No response.
Apparently he was fast asleep.
Maybe Tron came to watch over him, then decided to lie down for ‘just a couple minutes’ - the same trap Beck had just fallen into. Beds were tricky like that.
With all he’d been through, the guy clearly needed a hug. He just refused to admit it. Admittedly, Beck needed one too.
This really wasn’t so bad.
Beck quite liked this side of him. In those rare moments his guard wasn’t up, Tron was warm, almost playful even.
And then, it hit him. How to fix the tank. It was obvious in hindsight. How did he miss it?
To actually implement his epiphany, Beck needed to extract himself. Easier said than done, given the massive security monitor currently half on top of him.
Beck shimmied, managed to get an arm free, and pushed down on Tron’s arm with his hand.
Tron only grabbed tighter and nuzzled into him. Must be some deep coding to activate when he was asleep. Wriggling was now ineffective. It just earned a sleepy grumble from Tron.
Beck recalled his training for getting out of tackles and headlocks. Most of it involved things like hitting the opponent in the face and/or flipping them onto the ground, which seemed rather mean under the circumstances.
Unable to escape in a nonviolent manner, Beck had no choice but to submit. He had no chance against Tron’s strength.
The tank could wait a bit longer. Tron would wake up eventually.
Hopefully before Beck’s shift started.
Otherwise, he’d have to figure out how to explain his lateness to Able.
***
At long last, Tron stirred, emitting a couple beeps and hums as he booted up.
He stretched his limbs out sleepily. Beck seized the opportunity to try and escape.
Unfortunately, this triggered Tron’s monitor reflexes, and he was swiftly recaptured and pinned to the bed.
Tron stared down at him in confusion. He took a moment to register what was going on; his expression shifted, but he didn’t release Beck.
“Morning?” Beck asked.
“Morning.”
Beck tried to pull his wrists free of Tron’s grip. Tron got the hint and moved off, sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed.
Knowing him, they’d probably never speak of this again.
”What are you doing in here?”
“You seemed upset,” he stated. Composed again. Pretending nothing was weird.
“I thought I should keep you company. Then you grabbed me, and I couldn’t move without waking you.”
“And then you decided to ‘rest your eyes.’”
“Exactly.”
He smoothed down his hair which was sticking up in spikes all over the place.
“Do you want to talk about what happened out there?”
“Not really.” Yeah, he’d nearly died. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last, but it had to be done. What else was there to say?
“Was it avoidable?”
“Probably.”
“Then you can explain it to me at training.”
“I think I know how to fix the tank now.
And just when you’re finally using the bed!” Beck deflected. “You fell for my dastardly trap.”
A snort.
“Yes, very sneaky of you.”
”Isn’t this so much better than inside a locker?” Beck’s back was killing him just thinking about that.
“Hmm.”
Tron of course admitted to nothing.
“Anyway, I’ll get on that now. You look horrible.”
“Thanks.”
Tron closed his eyes in clear relief, and slumped back onto the bed.
He sleepily reached an arm out towards Beck as he passed.
”Oh, no you don’t.”