Beck knew that the training deck was customizable. The cycles leading up to Tron's confrontation with Dyson had shown him that, if need be, it could run any simulation that was needed, as long as the scenario could be confined to one room.

What Tron hadn't meant to show him was that the simulation room could be used to re-create situations based on memories. He had eavesdropped one morning, not remotely intent on intruding. What he had found had made him feel guilty.

***

Tron had stood next to a figure that only existed in legends now. A User, the one who had made The Grid into what it now was. They were discussing counter-measures to be taken against a virus.

"I'll do what I can from the outside," the User said. "I'll try to program you some additional help." 

"And in the meantime," Tron said, "I'll gather up the Monitors, try to contain it. Maybe I'll have Anon take point," Tron said, offering.

"Are you sure?" the User asked. "I don't mean any disrespect towards Anon, but are you sure you want to trust such a young program with something like this? I mean, I barely had time to beta-test him."

"Then consider this his beta-test," Tron said. He turned to the user with a smile. "What, are you telling me that you doubt your own handiwork?"

"Never," the User said, laughing.

As if to prove their very point, a program was thrown out of a nearby window, glass shards littering the ground before fizzling out into a flurry of pixels. The program was helmeted, with deep blue lifelights. 

"Anon?" Tron asked. The both of them ran over, the User helping the system monitor to his feet as the program groaned. "Something's wrong," Tron said. His helmet slid into place, and he drew his disc.

"Flynn!" a synthetic voice called out. "Am I still to create the perfect system?"

The three turned, all of them laying eyes on one figure. A yellow figure created in the User's exact likeness. Clu.

"Yeah?" the User responded.

Programs began to file out from their cover, all of them wearing a burning bright orange, a few carrying staves of the same color. 

Anon threw the first disc, Tron didn't even wait for it to return to the monitor's hand before throwing his own. "FLYNN, GO. WE'LL COVER YOU."

Flynn, for a moment, looked like he was going to do just that. Then his face hardened, and he drew his own disc. "Tron, I made this mess, I'm going to be the one to fix it."

"Stubborn User, aren't you?" Tron said. There was a smile on his face, one reserved for his oldest friends.

"It'll be just like old times," Flynn said, taking a stance.

The scene that followed was one of movement and carnage. There was a certain beauty to the way the three of them worked. User and monitors united against a squadron of programs. Discs flying and rebounding on walls. It was almost like a dance.

By the end, the three of them were standing in a field of pixels, wounds littering their bodies. Flynn's organic data dripped onto the ground, Anon's helmet was cracked open, and at several spots, Tron's wireframe was visible. It was a miracle that they still functioned.

Clu lay on the ground, his own wounds raking themselves across his frame. His data was losing stability. It was obvious that he would be derezzed, and soon.

Flynn walked over slowly to his likeness. "Clu. . ." he said sorrowfully. "Why?"

Clu looked up to the dark sky. "The ISOs. They were an accident. . . a flaw. They need to be purged from the system before they corrupt us all. . . I knew you could never bring yourself. . . to erase them. So I had to do it for you." A series of coughs attacked him, causing him to lose more pixels.

"Clu, I never wanted this," Flynn said.

"I know," Clu said, before the last of his stability gave way, and his figure dissolved itself.

Flynn stood still for a moment, observing the data that had once been his creation. His head hung low.

Tron didn't offer any words. All he could do was put a hand on Flynn's shoulder.

"Simulation Terminated."

The streets of the capital city faded away, taking Clu's remains, Anon, and Flynn with it. All that was left was a scarred program, and his apprentice.

"Tron. . ." Beck began. He stopped when he realized that nothing he could say would matter. "I'm sorry," he said. Whether he was sorry for having seen it, or sorry for Tron having to go through the real thing, he could not say.

Tron didn't seem angry at the intrusion. "That's how I wish it happened," he said tiredly. 

Beck could have sworn. He wished Tron was angry for once. That would have been so much better than what he was seeing. In the cycles that Beck had known him, Beck had never seen Tron look so . . . defeated. "So, what actually happened?"

Tron took a deep breath. "I lost contact with Anon and the rest of the monitors before the coup began. When I told Flynn to run, he did. I lost. And Flynn never returned. I don't know if he ever made it to the portal."

"And this. . ."

"This is how I deal with that failure."

". . . Does it help?" Beck asked.

Tron looked at his apprentice, staring right through him. "No." 

***

By nature, Beck was a curious program. The amount of times that he had almost gotten caught because he just couldn't keep his nose in his own business was staggering to say the least. It was because of this that the idea of using the training room as an impromptu therapy chamber was running in circles around his head.

It wasn't that Beck didn't trust Tron. If anything, Beck trusted him more than any other program he knew. (Well, any other program that wasn't derezzed, and Users that was a sobering distinction to make.) Beck felt like this was maybe a breach of trust that trust, but then again, Tron had never explicitly forbade him from using the training room for this purpose.

Being a mechanic had given Beck a way with machines of all sorts. The training room was no exception. He started by removing his identity disc and placing it into the open air in front of him. Menus soon appeared, framing the disc. He scrolled through his options for a while, eventually managing to tweak the settings to the perfect scenario.

He took a few steps back, and a deep breath in. "Begin simulation," he said.

It couldn't have taken long; barely a few minutes, but for Beck, watching the pixels arrange themselves into what he had loaded happened in slow-motion.

A black suit with white light lines and red highlights built itself up, topped by a rounded head and messy hair that had a white stripe running down the middle. The simulation opened its eyes. "Hey Beck," Bodhi said.

Beck gave a small huff, not yet willing to believe that it had worked. "Hey Bodhi."

Bodhi's simulation looked him up and down. "You look like crap."

Despite himself, Beck laughed. "Yeah. The old program tends to run me hard sometimes."

"Do I need to come down there and teach him a lesson?"

"Nah. He's a bit of a grump, but he means well. He's still the best ally I have." Beck looked at Bodhi for a while before sighing in defeat. "I wish you were still here. I could use your help."

"I know you do," Bodhi said. "You know that I would have loved to decapitate that Clu statue with you."

"I just. . . I wish I could have done more. Maybe. . ."

"Don't say it."

"Say what?"

"That you could have saved me."

"How did you know I was gonna say that?"

"Because I know you." Bodhi's simulation gestured to where Beck's disc hung in the air.

Beck laughed. Bodhi would be blithe about it. "I just. . . miss you. A lot. Every time I go to the garage, I see your locker. Whenever I'm out there, sabotaging the occupation, I can never forget that it's your wrench I'm using. Sometimes, when things are going bad. . . when I'm not doing too well. . . I think that you should be the one wearing this suit. And that I'm the one who should have. . ."

Bodhi clapped both hands on Beck's shoulders. "Don't think like that. Don't ever think like that. I would be the first one to tell you that, and you know it. I'm pretty sure everyone at the garage would tell you the same thing. Hell, even the old program licking his scars right now would tell you that. Maybe you won't believe it coming from him, or Mara, or Zed, but I need you to look at me because you're about to hear it from me. What happened to me wasn't your fault."

Beck stared, standing still. Bodhi's arms moved from his shoulders to wrap around him. Liquid energy pooled around his eyes, before Beck buried himself and his tears into Bodhi's shoulder. Sobs wracked his frame. 

It was a while before Beck was able to dry his eyes. When he did, Bodhi was still standing there. "I need you to promise me two things. Can you do that?"

"Sure," Beck said, wiping his nose. "What do you need?"

"I need you to forgive yourself. Do you think you can do that? 'Cause I can't stand to see you beat yourself up over me."

Beck took a deep breath. "I can try," he offered. "I'll try."

Bodhi gave a small laugh. "Well, it's a start at least. The second thing I need you to do: Is that I need you to keep fighting for me, okay? Even when things get bad, I don't want what happened to me to happen to any other programs. Not without putting up a fight."

Beck nodded. "I can do that."

The two of them shared one last embrace. When they broke apart, they shared a bittersweet glance. "I think it's time," Bodhi said.

Beck nodded his agreement, and started to walk towards his disk. He ran his hand along its surface, hesitating.

Bodhi placed his hand on Beck's shoulder. "You're going to have to let go sometime."

Beck gave a small laugh. "I know."

Bodhi gave one last smile. "Goodbye, Beck."

Beck returned the smile. "Goodbye, Bodhi." 

Beck pulled his disk out from its suspension. Bodhi once again disappeared.

"Simulation Terminated."

Beck took a breath. Pain lingered, but welcome in a way that was yet unfamiliar to the young program. He stood still for a few moments.

The hand that clasped itself on his shoulder was a shock, until Beck whirled around and saw the program it belonged to. Tron was looking at him with a mix of sorrow and pride. "You keep coming up with new ways to surprise me." 

Beck returned his disc to his back, shooting Tron a small smile. "If you don't mind, I think I'll head back to the garage. I think I've done enough training for today."

Tron gave a small laugh as Beck headed out. "Yes. I think you have."