Don't Know Where You're Going [Flynn/CLU, PG-13]
Characters/Pairing: Flynn/CLU, very brief mention of Sam and Quorra
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,615
Summary: Clu has developed insomnia and a habit of sneaking into Flynn's room late at night. (Post-Legacy, AU)
Clu couldn’t sleep again.
It had been three weeks since he had first became part of the User world and getting actual sleep had been an impossible task.
And he knew that the amount of sleep he was getting was not healthy, because in between rebuilding the Grid and creating a life in the User world, Clu was reading. He read books, encyclopedias, magazines, newspapers, mass amounts of Internet articles, and even a dictionary.
He wanted to learn everything about Flynn's origins. One would say that he knew about this world than most of the Users that inhabited it, but Clu always felt as if he didn't know anything.
And it's for that exact reason that left his lack of sleep a mystery for such a long time. He initially thought that he was simply having trouble adapting to sleep, but as he grew more and more used to breathing, eating, all the basic tasks of living, sleep was something that would never click.
There were several nights where all he would read about was the topic of 'sleep'. It wasn't until he came across an article that detailed the meaning of dreams that it had hit him. And it hit him like a shotgun blast to the head.
It wasn't that he was physically incapable of sleeping.
Clu was afraid that he would wake up inside the Grid and that all of these experiences were simply a false reality conjured from an error in his coding. That Flynn had escaped his grasp once again.
It haunted him only at night, however. He was content during the daytime because he was distracted with work. But, he discovered that daytime seemed to go by so quickly, and the nighttime lasted for so long.
Tonight was one of those nights.
And there was no point on staring at the ceiling for five more hours.
Clu pushed himself out of bed a bit too fast, becoming dizzy and envisioning large, white splotches in the darkness. He hadn't slept at all for three nights and he was quickly losing any and all energy that his body once had. Grabbing hold on the door frame with one hand and holding his head in the other, he waited for a few long moments until his vision focused again.
Once he was steady, he quietly turned the doorknob and opened the door just enough for him to squeeze through. Clu turned his head in both directions of the hallway before silently shutting the bedroom door behind him. He waited a few seconds before moving again, taking light steps, trying to remember which parts of the wooden floor didn’t creak.
He walked past a few doors, where Sam and Quorra had their own respective rooms, before he reached the intended bedroom.
Flynn had always left his door slightly cracked, so Clu never had to worry about turning the metal knob without making too much noise. The last thing he wanted was to wake up Flynn, and so far, he hadn’t.
He tried to remember when he initially picked up this habit, of going to Flynn’s room at night, but his time here had blurred so much.
He blamed it on the lack of sleep.
Clu’s timing must had been great because the moon was positioned just right in the dark sky so that it shined above Flynn’s bed. Usually, the bedroom is shrouded in darkness. There’s no interior source of light, other than the tall candles on the end table and the not-so-ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling. This definitely proved to be a problem, because one night, Clu had figured that he’d be able to get through to the bed without trouble. He was so very wrong when he tripped on a stray pair of jeans and nearly fell on his face.
However, Flynn’s room was clean this time - no stray clothes or items to be found.
He stepped toward Flynn’s bed and knelt down, only producing small sounds, like the pop of his knees and the gentle ruffle of clothing.
Clu watched as Flynn slept, and for the first time, was able to really take in his creator’s appearance. Flynn had aged so much, he was almost unrecognizable. Nearly all the brown had faded from the hair on his head, and even the beard he adopted was a stark white. So many lines and wrinkles traced his face, only reflecting the various emotions Flynn had gone through in his lifetime.
Clu’s hand had reached out to brush Flynn’s cheek, barely touching him at all, afraid of waking the older man. A sudden wave of guilt washed over his senses as he realized what he had done to Flynn. Twenty years of the man’s life, wasted in hiding of his own creation, unable to see his son grow and unable to say goodbye to his parents.
Emotions got the bed of him and Clu’s throat made a pained noise, almost like a sob. Before he became conscious of what he just did, Flynn’s eyelids began to flutter open, heavy with sleep.
Confusion was plastered on Flynn’s face when his eyes were finally open, and this reaction only further proved it with the way he asked, “Clu?”
Clu was frozen in place, eyes wide.
Flynn moved to sit up. Clu simply pulled his hand back, following Flynn with his eyes. They stayed there in silence, perplexity never leaving Flynn’s face and apprehension never leaving Clu’s.
It was Flynn who finally broke the silence with, “Is there something wrong, Clu?”
The program-turned-user let go of the breath he was holding, but replied with no words. Clu was looking anywhere Flynn wasn’t.
In the corner his eye, however, he saw Flynn slowly lift the unoccupied side of the bedsheet, like a waiting embrace.
“C’mere.”
Clu’s eyes darted back to Flynn, searching for something, anything, that would tell him that he wasn’t welcome, but all he could see in those wise blue eyes was warmth.
Hesitant, Clu pulled himself up from the carpeted floor. He grabbed hold of the blanket before sliding into the bed, laying it over his lap and waiting for Flynn to break the silence once again.
“Has this been a regular thing?”
Noticing that the Program-turned-User didn’t understand the question, Flynn rephrased his inquiry and tried again.
“How long have you been sneaking into my room?”
“Um,” Clu’s voice cracked, so he cleared his throat and continued, “I can’t remember… I think it’s been two weeks.”
Flynn’s response was a small chuckle and a slight upturn of his lips. After a momentary pause, he stated, “If you wanted to sleep next to me, Clu, you could have just told me, you know.”
Clu could feel the heat radiating off of the man next to him, wanting so badly to just wrap his arms around his creator and stay there. The over encompassing guilt swarming his brain, however, was holding back any initiative for that action to actually happen. His mind continued to pester on the fact that Flynn has forgiven him - forgiven him for everything he’s done and how much he’s destroyed his User’s life. He felt the tears bite his eyes, and Clu finally broke down.
Tears streamed down his face and it wasn’t long until the sobs came afterward. Clu curled into himself, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face in them.
Flynn didn’t take any alarm -- as if he thought this was expected -- to Clu’s sudden burst of emotion. Rather, he ran his hands into Clu’s hair, pushing fallen russet brown strands away from the younger man’s face and tucking them behind his ear.
Clu lifted his head up and looked back at Flynn with bloodshot eyes, cheeks wet with tears. He didn’t want to look at the other man at all, out of fear that Flynn’s expression would garner disappointment, but when Clu saw the gentle smile on Flynn’s features, he rid himself of his own hesitation and practically crashed into Flynn arms.
Flynn made a quick noise of surprise before clasping his arms around Clu’s shaking body. He grinned with his nose nuzzling Clu’s hair and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move that fast.”
Clu tried to let out a laugh, but it came out sounding like a disgruntled sob. He then attempted to say, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” but the lump in his throat only became larger, making words hard to say. Instead, he pressed his face into Flynn’s chest and closed his eyes.
They sat there for a while, Flynn’s hand rubbing circles on Clu’s back. “It’s okay,” Flynn eventually reassured in a quiet voice.
Clu found himself relaxing, his fingers no long digging into Flynn’s mid-back and his arms no longer constricting Flynn’s chest. Clu finally took in the smell of his Creator as his breathing evened, his senses swimming in the varied scents of musk, cotton, and something almost like rain.
Not long afterward, Flynn spoke again with a quiet laugh, saying, “I don’t know about you, but this position is making my back hurt.”
Clu parted with Flynn only momentarily for the both of them to move to lie down on the bed. Flynn pulled the blanket over them as they settled on the bed, and when they faced one another, Clu took a deep and shaky breath.
“Thank you,” Clu whispered, the smile upon his lips barely there. Flynn simply smiled back, his eyes sparkling.
As Clu’s eyelids flickered closed, the last thing he could remember before falling into unconsciousness was the soft press of lips on the corner of his mouth and the light scratch of Flynn’s beard on his chin.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,615
Summary: Clu has developed insomnia and a habit of sneaking into Flynn's room late at night. (Post-Legacy, AU)
Clu couldn’t sleep again.
It had been three weeks since he had first became part of the User world and getting actual sleep had been an impossible task.
And he knew that the amount of sleep he was getting was not healthy, because in between rebuilding the Grid and creating a life in the User world, Clu was reading. He read books, encyclopedias, magazines, newspapers, mass amounts of Internet articles, and even a dictionary.
He wanted to learn everything about Flynn's origins. One would say that he knew about this world than most of the Users that inhabited it, but Clu always felt as if he didn't know anything.
And it's for that exact reason that left his lack of sleep a mystery for such a long time. He initially thought that he was simply having trouble adapting to sleep, but as he grew more and more used to breathing, eating, all the basic tasks of living, sleep was something that would never click.
There were several nights where all he would read about was the topic of 'sleep'. It wasn't until he came across an article that detailed the meaning of dreams that it had hit him. And it hit him like a shotgun blast to the head.
It wasn't that he was physically incapable of sleeping.
Clu was afraid that he would wake up inside the Grid and that all of these experiences were simply a false reality conjured from an error in his coding. That Flynn had escaped his grasp once again.
It haunted him only at night, however. He was content during the daytime because he was distracted with work. But, he discovered that daytime seemed to go by so quickly, and the nighttime lasted for so long.
Tonight was one of those nights.
And there was no point on staring at the ceiling for five more hours.
Clu pushed himself out of bed a bit too fast, becoming dizzy and envisioning large, white splotches in the darkness. He hadn't slept at all for three nights and he was quickly losing any and all energy that his body once had. Grabbing hold on the door frame with one hand and holding his head in the other, he waited for a few long moments until his vision focused again.
Once he was steady, he quietly turned the doorknob and opened the door just enough for him to squeeze through. Clu turned his head in both directions of the hallway before silently shutting the bedroom door behind him. He waited a few seconds before moving again, taking light steps, trying to remember which parts of the wooden floor didn’t creak.
He walked past a few doors, where Sam and Quorra had their own respective rooms, before he reached the intended bedroom.
Flynn had always left his door slightly cracked, so Clu never had to worry about turning the metal knob without making too much noise. The last thing he wanted was to wake up Flynn, and so far, he hadn’t.
He tried to remember when he initially picked up this habit, of going to Flynn’s room at night, but his time here had blurred so much.
He blamed it on the lack of sleep.
Clu’s timing must had been great because the moon was positioned just right in the dark sky so that it shined above Flynn’s bed. Usually, the bedroom is shrouded in darkness. There’s no interior source of light, other than the tall candles on the end table and the not-so-ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling. This definitely proved to be a problem, because one night, Clu had figured that he’d be able to get through to the bed without trouble. He was so very wrong when he tripped on a stray pair of jeans and nearly fell on his face.
However, Flynn’s room was clean this time - no stray clothes or items to be found.
He stepped toward Flynn’s bed and knelt down, only producing small sounds, like the pop of his knees and the gentle ruffle of clothing.
Clu watched as Flynn slept, and for the first time, was able to really take in his creator’s appearance. Flynn had aged so much, he was almost unrecognizable. Nearly all the brown had faded from the hair on his head, and even the beard he adopted was a stark white. So many lines and wrinkles traced his face, only reflecting the various emotions Flynn had gone through in his lifetime.
Clu’s hand had reached out to brush Flynn’s cheek, barely touching him at all, afraid of waking the older man. A sudden wave of guilt washed over his senses as he realized what he had done to Flynn. Twenty years of the man’s life, wasted in hiding of his own creation, unable to see his son grow and unable to say goodbye to his parents.
Emotions got the bed of him and Clu’s throat made a pained noise, almost like a sob. Before he became conscious of what he just did, Flynn’s eyelids began to flutter open, heavy with sleep.
Confusion was plastered on Flynn’s face when his eyes were finally open, and this reaction only further proved it with the way he asked, “Clu?”
Clu was frozen in place, eyes wide.
Flynn moved to sit up. Clu simply pulled his hand back, following Flynn with his eyes. They stayed there in silence, perplexity never leaving Flynn’s face and apprehension never leaving Clu’s.
It was Flynn who finally broke the silence with, “Is there something wrong, Clu?”
The program-turned-user let go of the breath he was holding, but replied with no words. Clu was looking anywhere Flynn wasn’t.
In the corner his eye, however, he saw Flynn slowly lift the unoccupied side of the bedsheet, like a waiting embrace.
“C’mere.”
Clu’s eyes darted back to Flynn, searching for something, anything, that would tell him that he wasn’t welcome, but all he could see in those wise blue eyes was warmth.
Hesitant, Clu pulled himself up from the carpeted floor. He grabbed hold of the blanket before sliding into the bed, laying it over his lap and waiting for Flynn to break the silence once again.
“Has this been a regular thing?”
Noticing that the Program-turned-User didn’t understand the question, Flynn rephrased his inquiry and tried again.
“How long have you been sneaking into my room?”
“Um,” Clu’s voice cracked, so he cleared his throat and continued, “I can’t remember… I think it’s been two weeks.”
Flynn’s response was a small chuckle and a slight upturn of his lips. After a momentary pause, he stated, “If you wanted to sleep next to me, Clu, you could have just told me, you know.”
Clu could feel the heat radiating off of the man next to him, wanting so badly to just wrap his arms around his creator and stay there. The over encompassing guilt swarming his brain, however, was holding back any initiative for that action to actually happen. His mind continued to pester on the fact that Flynn has forgiven him - forgiven him for everything he’s done and how much he’s destroyed his User’s life. He felt the tears bite his eyes, and Clu finally broke down.
Tears streamed down his face and it wasn’t long until the sobs came afterward. Clu curled into himself, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face in them.
Flynn didn’t take any alarm -- as if he thought this was expected -- to Clu’s sudden burst of emotion. Rather, he ran his hands into Clu’s hair, pushing fallen russet brown strands away from the younger man’s face and tucking them behind his ear.
Clu lifted his head up and looked back at Flynn with bloodshot eyes, cheeks wet with tears. He didn’t want to look at the other man at all, out of fear that Flynn’s expression would garner disappointment, but when Clu saw the gentle smile on Flynn’s features, he rid himself of his own hesitation and practically crashed into Flynn arms.
Flynn made a quick noise of surprise before clasping his arms around Clu’s shaking body. He grinned with his nose nuzzling Clu’s hair and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move that fast.”
Clu tried to let out a laugh, but it came out sounding like a disgruntled sob. He then attempted to say, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” but the lump in his throat only became larger, making words hard to say. Instead, he pressed his face into Flynn’s chest and closed his eyes.
They sat there for a while, Flynn’s hand rubbing circles on Clu’s back. “It’s okay,” Flynn eventually reassured in a quiet voice.
Clu found himself relaxing, his fingers no long digging into Flynn’s mid-back and his arms no longer constricting Flynn’s chest. Clu finally took in the smell of his Creator as his breathing evened, his senses swimming in the varied scents of musk, cotton, and something almost like rain.
Not long afterward, Flynn spoke again with a quiet laugh, saying, “I don’t know about you, but this position is making my back hurt.”
Clu parted with Flynn only momentarily for the both of them to move to lie down on the bed. Flynn pulled the blanket over them as they settled on the bed, and when they faced one another, Clu took a deep and shaky breath.
“Thank you,” Clu whispered, the smile upon his lips barely there. Flynn simply smiled back, his eyes sparkling.
As Clu’s eyelids flickered closed, the last thing he could remember before falling into unconsciousness was the soft press of lips on the corner of his mouth and the light scratch of Flynn’s beard on his chin.