"Just rest." (Beck/Cutler- Ep2 divergence)
In Cutler's runtime, he's seen despair in many forms. In the faces of his friends when Tron had disappeared. Among his comrades in battles for the ISOs. In the mirror following the bitter end of that war. It still never gets easier.
Seeing it in the program that shares the cell with him reminds him of that.
He hasn't known Beck long. Getting to know other prisoners of the Games was a luxury nobody could afford. So Cutler had taken the few precious micros he had to gather just enough information to try and rally his fellow combatants before the Games. Just names, and dispositions. And he knows for a fact that Beck and despair do not pair together.
There's movement and voices in the cell next to them. Programs are shoved inside with a short command from the sentry. The programs don't even have the opportunity to move before they're shut in.
"We have new teamates to break in." Cutler comments.
"More like more programs to get derezzed." Beck's voice is subdued. Not steady like it had been before the Games, but…subdued. Cutler turns his full attention to the program hunched over himself.
"Don't tell me you've given up. We could use you out there; you're not a bad fighter."
Beck's scoff is bitter as he hunches. "Yeah. Tell that to Rilo." A tense silence passed before the program hangs his head with a sigh. "I wasn't programmed for this. I'm just a mechanic."
Cutler files that information quietly. A mechanic, who could hold his own in the Games. A designation meant to fix forced to watch things break and be destroyed. Paired with the young personality who seems to take things personally, to pile the responsibility of life itself on his own shoulders…no wonder they drooped so heavy. As much as the picture of who this program is is still murky, Cutler feels he understands Beck. They are so alike in that way.
"So it's like that, huh? No hope?" He leans back as he considers what to divulge. He decides for the truth. "I felt that way once. After we lost the ISO war."
It gets Beck's attention like he thought it would; the program turns to him. "You fought in the ISO war?"
"That's right." He taps his armband, making it glow. He sees Beck's eyes catch on it. "Most of my friends fell fighting Clu's forces. I started to despair…until the Renegade showed up."
What Cutler doesn't expect is the sudden withdraw from Beck, averting his gaze and hunching his shoulders. "The Renegade," his tone is bitter, "isn't this all his fault?"
Cutler isn't going to let him escape that easy. "Oh I don't think so," He shifts to the bench perpendicular to Beck, leaning in to catch the mechanic's gaze. He seems…tired. More tired than a normal mechanic should. But this wasn't a normal cycle, either.
Cutler feels the faint start of a smile begin as he continues. "If he's willing to risk his life to fight back, then I want to be right there beside him. That's why I came to Argon: to join him."
He has Beck's full attention now. The mechanic no longer pretends to avoid his gaze.
"But there's more. I know who the Renegade really is."
"We both know. He's the one program who can save us all, whose name alone inspires hope." Cutler holds up three fingers on his right hand. One finger on his left sits below, creating the familiar symbol. "He's Tron."
Beck pulls away again, but not completely. His gaze is distant in thought as his brow furrows. "Tron." He repeats softly.
His circuits flicker. It's not obvious, but Cutler still catches it. A true sign the mechanic was low on energy. And since it didn't seem they would be recieving rations any time soon….
Beck looks up at that, and blinks. "What?"
"You're getting low on energy. You'll need your strength whenever they summon us for the next round. So…rest."
"But I can't. What about…?" His head turns to the currently empty corridor.
"I'll keep an eye out." Cutler says. He's gone on less energy before into worse situations, and has survived. He will make it another cycle. What's important is that Beck does, too. "If anything happens, I'll wake you."
"No buts." Cutler doesn't raise his voice, but it does grow firm. "Just rest."
A long silence passes where Beck examines him. When it's obvious Cutler isn't letting him out of this, he sighs and lets his exhaustion show as he droops. "Okay."
He pulls his legs up onto the bench and situates himself to where his back is nestled in the corner of the cell. The slightest flush comes across his cheeks when he realizes Cutler is still watching, but he makes himself shut his eyes. It takes about a micro before the program relaxes and his circuits enter standby.
Cutler watches Beck as he sleeps. Without the stress of his waking cycle resting on him, Cutler can see the youth on Beck's face. Not much younger than him, but just enough that he can tell. To see the program at peace allows Cutler to further appreciate Beck. He had already known that the mechanic appeared like the type of program Cutler found himself attracted to. In the afterglow of their conversation, he finds himself no less intrigued. Perhaps in another life, he would have had the opportunity to meet Beck at a club. Get to know him, perhaps take him home. But that was not the life he lived.
Correction. Not the life he lived now. Just because he was in the Games did not mean that dream could never be. Somehow, someway, the both of them would survive this. And when they did, perhaps Cutler could get to know Beck as more than comrades, and as more than friends.
He will fight for that Someday.
