An Angel's Reassurance

By: Miaboo, the author formerly known as Crashed!

A young woman contemplating suicide meets an Agent…

Rating: R for language, violence, other stuff, etc. No kids allowed! If I'm old enough to write this, you're old enough to read it.

Disclaimer: Don't own the Agent, the hotel, or the song. It belongs to the Wachowski brothers and Sarah McLachlan, respectively. I own the girl. (but not her brother)

A/N: Wow! My first songfic! I wrote this during a bad bout of angst when the agent muse visited me as a song. So, those of you faint of heart, I would hit the 'Back' button on your browser, since the story gets graphic (NO! Not in THAT context!) I know Smith is kind of OOC, actually caring about a woman being attacked by vicious criminals, but it's my fic and I can do whatever the hell I want! :P

Note: /Thoughts/ Memories
~*~
Spend your time waiting, for that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There's always some reason, to feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction, oh, beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
Let me be empty
Oh, let weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
~*~



The sound of the TV blaring and rain pounding on the windows was all a lone, dejected figure could hear as she looked around her room. Pulling her pocketknife out of a drawer, she opened the blade and dug into her skin, watching the cold, cruel stainless steel leave thin, red trails in their wake. Sure, it hurt, but it made her feel better in the long run; watching as everything dripped from the torn capillaries and occasional vein into ruby pools that soaked into the carpet on contact. Life seemed so much simpler with a knife in her skin; nothingness enveloped her as the pain brought a strange, morbid solace to her chaotic mess of a life.

"Jessie!" Her father slurred, pounding on her door savagely. The door shook violently under every blow, and she knew what was going to happen. Acting quickly, she shoved everything she thought she'd need into her spare backpack, pocketed her last ten paychecks, and ran to the fire escape outside her window. Her booted feet slipped dangerously on the wet rungs of the ladder, but she kept her grip as she nimbly climbed down to the ground. Thunder crashed as she ran from her apartment building, leaving her father running shouting after her. Life had become too much for her to bear, and she wanted it all to end. The scars on her arms and legs shone as lightning crisscrossed the sky, painful reminders of how life had ripped her apart. Ducking into an alley, she rummaged in her bag for her bottle of Vicoden. Two men leaped from the shadows.

"Give us all your money, bitch!" They sneered.

"I don't have anything." She stammered, and they started to beat her. /Well, if I die, at least it's not my fault./ She surrendered to their blows, thrashing every time she was dealt a punch. /Better than home…/ She started to fade and passed out in a flood of pain.
**
Three months earlier:

"Jessie, why the hell didn't you get an A in science?" Her father roared, showing her the report card from her final term. "You're a genius, and you piss away your talent with that group of earth-saving hippies and computer hackers!" He smacked her, leaving a red print shaped like his hand on her cheek. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I tried, my final was too hard!" She tried to keep the burning tears back, tried not to let her father see how his abuse affected her. "You take Accelerated Biology on top of a shitload of AP courses and sooner or later you're bound to fuck up in one of them!" She ran to her room and locked the door. Glancing around, she pulled a prescription bottle from her jewelry box and popped a few small white pills. Then she toyed around with her pocketknife, watching the blood weep from the cuts in her arms and legs. She let the blade dangle microns from her wrist, but decided against it. All that advice from her councilor had to help somewhere…

**
~*~
In the arms of the angel
Fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you feel
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
In the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here
~*~


She awoke in a dark, disgustingly filthy hotel room. It was gross, but who was she to judge the cleanliness of the room when she lived in the same conditions. /At least it looks peaceful and quiet here. No pissed off dad slamming me into the wall at all hours, no having to clean up that Goddamn apartment./ Her eyes connected with those of a government spook type, his shades making her feel slightly uncomfortable. She opened her swollen lips to speak, and tasted an obscene amount of blood in her mouth. "Where the fuck am I?" She asked, staring at his suit and wondering what a guy like him would want with a girl like her.
**
Twenty minutes ago:

Agent Smith walked down the street when the storm began. The cold rain didn't bother him, as he watched other people hail taxis and take cover wherever they could. Passing by a dark alley, near the Heart Of The City hotel, he could hear the pained screams and moans of a woman being attacked. /Pathetic viruses./ He thought, /Attacking each other for no reason./ He started to walk away when one of the men assaulting the woman turned on him.

"Gimme all your cash. The bitch back there ain't carrying nothin. Just hand me everything, or Jim'll have his way with ya, like he did with the bitch back there." The man said. Smith reached into his jacket, pulling his IMI Desert Eagle free of the holster. Faster than he could blink, the man fell back, a bullet-hole in his forehead. 'Jim' turned to see his friend fall and had enough time to touch his rosary before a bullet penetrated his skull.

"Will you be all right?" Smith asked the woman. He knelt down next to her, and noticed her battered condition, blood streaming from her nose and mouth. "Miss?" He picked her up and carried her away.

**
"Miss Regan, will you be all right?" He asked her, watching her sit up.

"Fine, now will you tell me where the hell I am?" She looked around at the strange surroundings. "I'm not dead, am I?" She almost sounded disappointed.

"No. I shot the men attacking you." He smiled at her alarmed look, "I do not plan on doing so to you, if you cooperate and rest here." He removed his sunglasses and earpiece, trying not to look so distant and cold. "You are in the Heart Of The City hotel, not to far from your attack." She groaned as she stood.

"I feel like I've been run over repeatedly by a Mack truck." She looked at her reflection in the cracked mirror. "Look like it, too." She traced the thin scar on her cheek, hoping her face wasn't marred any more than that.

"It looks worse than it is. You have lacerations all in your mouth and a broken nose." He informed her, "Though if you don't change, you will become hypothermic." He tossed her an old, slightly smelly towel.

"Thanks. I'm Jessie, by the way. Only my councilor uses 'Miss Regan', and I don't wanna associate you with my hellhole school." She dried off, careful of her nose, which she noticed he had bandaged for her. "What are you, a doctor?" She rubbed the towel gently over her shoulder-length brown hair and met his blue eyes with her own.

"No." He searched the mainframe for what he could call himself. "I am a Government Agent. You may call me Smith" He continued to watch her as she toweled off, but she refused to remove her wet clothing. "And what are you, a runaway?" He added caustically.

"In a sense." She tossed the towel into the armoire. "I'm 18, I figure I can just pick up and leave this place when I'm good and ready to. And I figured today was the right day to do so." She rubbed her hands up and down her arms in a vain effort to warm herself. "You couldn'tve chosen a more warm and cozy place to fix me up?"

"This was closest. If you want, we could seek a different place to stay." He noticed a slight blue tinge to her bruised and swollen lips.

"So cold…" She trailed off, slumping to the floor in an unconscious heap. He checked her sluggish pulse and shallow breathing, trying to keep her alive. She was so cold when he picked her up, all signs of life seeming to have fled her body. Why was she trying to kill herself? Smith manipulated the Matrix around him until he was satisfied with a warm bedroom with a large, yet cozy bed for her to lie in.

"You will be all right." He whispered, setting her down and undressing her. "Just hang on for me, Jessie."



~*~
So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting
Keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference
Escape one last time
It's easier to believe
In this sweet madness
Oh, this glorious sadness
Which brings me to my knees
~*~



A year ago:

"Jess, what are those marks on your arms?" Her best friend from junior year, Laura, asked. "You haven't been cutting yourself again, have you?"

"No. I was cleaning again and my cats attacked me." Jessie muttered sarcastically, yanking her sleeves over the mix dull scabs and shining scars.

"Like you're really expecting me to believe that bullshit." Laura snapped. "C'mon! We're going to be seniors next year, and you're acting like you're still in middle school!"

"Some people aren't like you, Laura." Jess growled, her blue eyes flashing. "Not everyone can have the perfect family and life in a house in the suburbs and actually have a car and a clean room and a father who doesn't beat her every time he drinks too much!" Her voice became devoid of emotion, like it always did when she was talking about her 'family'. "I can deal with this shit, but not if you're on my case every single fucking day!" She turned on her heel and left her 'friend' standing there in shock. She ran to the elevator in her complex, taking all of her Vicoden before curling up into a ball on the floor, waiting for the lethal dose to take effect. She passed out as the door opened with a 'ding'. The last thing she heard was a terrified scream before she was totally gone.

**

She awoke in the hospital the next afternoon to her brother's face, smiling at her. "Hey, kid." He said softly, "What now? Try and knock yourself out with Vicoden again?"

"Cypher," She groaned, calling her brother by his hacker name, "What happened? I had a bad trip in the elevator and that's all I remember."

"How many did you take this time?" He asked. "I won't tell dad, honest."

"I dunno. However much was left in the bottle." She reached for a water bottle on the nearby table. "Might have been twenty or thirty pills in there for all I know. It was a new batch, so I really have no clue."

"You're just lucky Mrs. Winslow was taking her kids to the park the moment you passed out, or I don't think I'd be talking to ya, Disk." He ruffled her hair, using her alias. "Don't do that again. Next time, you might not be so lucky."

"I'm glad you came home. Life here is too damn boring without you." She hugged him close, "Try and stay a little bit longer this time, 'kay?"




~*~
In the arms of the angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you feel
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
In the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here
~*~



Smith watched her as she curled up in the bed, her face scrunched up painfully in a fitful dream. He noticed she wasn't improving, though. Her lips were still blue and her skin slightly ashen and freezing. He carefully stripped down to his boxers, folding each article of clothing and setting it on a shelf nearby. Cautious of her delicate body, with its translucent ivory skin, he slid into bed next to her to provide what 'heat' he could to her. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as close as possible to revive her, and couldn't help thinking that she was the perfect fit resting there. Her tiny frame shivered as he joined her, and slowly, her lips and skin returned to normal. She sighed and wrapped her arms around him, enjoying the feel of his body next to hers. Her eyes fluttered open, and her grin slowly faded as she found herself in Smith's arms, less than decent and not remembering a thing.

"Oh, gods on high!" She murmured. "Smith, what happened?"

"You passed out. I tried to warm your body the way human survival dictates." He rose, showing her that he was still clad in something. "You were soaked through. There was no other way."


"There is a robe in the bathroom." He smiled at her as she fumed off to the bathroom. She was an infuriating woman, but still very pretty, even when mad. She was unlike anyone he had observed; full of fire and passion, yet the world seemed to weigh especially heavily on her shoulders. She returned, clad in a white silk robe that hugged her in all the right places and he dressed. "Why do you constantly try to kill yourself?" He asked. The concept was foreign to him. Even on the worst days, he did not want to delete himself from the mainframe.

"It's a very complicated issue for me, Smith." She sighed, her thin shoulders heaving. "There is no good way to explain it."

"Then start at the beginning." He urged.

"Goddamn! You're worse than my councilor." She smiled sadly," Well, it all started with my mom leaving me, my brother, and my dad. She ran off with some biker gang or something like that, I really can't remember. Then my dad started to drink a lot. Every night, he was at the bar getting tanked, and my brother and I had to fend for ourselves." Her eyes turned cold as she spoke, giving Smith the impression that she did not enjoy opening up to him. "Then my brother goes off with this hacker guy named Morpheus and I don't hear from him ever again, leaving me the prime target for my dad to take out all his aggression on." She didn't notice Smith's near imperceptible shock at the mention of Morpheus and continued. "The cutting started after my mom left, and the painkillers and sleeping pills started when my dad…" She trailed off, "The world's dealt me so much shit, it seems like the walls are closing in and all I want is an escape from it." Tears welled up in her large eyes as all the pain was brought to the surface. He knelt down next to her as she collapsed in an overstuffed armchair. He took her into his arms and comforted her the best he could.

"Shh, everything will be all right." He whispered, trying to be compassionate. "You are far away from that place now. I will protect you." He kissed her temple gently, stroking her damp hair. Slowly, she faced him and told her account of the night her father nearly killed her.



**

Six months ago:

Jessie cowered in a corner as her father started to throw everything he could find at her. She winced as a book crashed into her eye and the toaster hit her shin. "What did I do this time?" She cried, ducking as a new barrage of stuff was launched at her.

"It's what you didn't do!" He roared, smacking her. "You call carry-out dinner?" He punched and kicked her repeatedly as she slid to the floor. He picked her up off the floor, and she tried to run to the door. He slammed her through the glass door that led out to the balcony and she collapsed in a heap of blood and glass shards. A large piece had cut her cheek open, and she bled from other small cuts all over. She howled in pain as he yanked her up by her hair and dragged her back in. Surely some passerby had seen and heard what happened and called the cops on her father. The neighbors were too used to hearing him yell that they didn't call the authorities anymore.

/He's gonna kill me./ Jessie's eyes filled with fear at the thought. /And if he doesn't this time, he will the next./ She kicked at his groin and hopped up as he doubled over on the floor in pain.

"See how you like it, fucker?" She shouted, running weakly for the door. She made it to the hallway before falling into their neighbor's door with and echoing thud. "Help, Mr. Katz! Please!" She pleaded weakly before everything went dark…

**
Smith's face went white as she explained her recovery to him. "They had to pull all the glass out of my body, stitch up every little cut, and I underwent a blood transfusion because I had lost so much when I landed on all that broken glass. Every now and then, a shard the doctors miss comes out of my skin, and the authorities did nothing to help me." She turned her face, showing him the long scar on her cheek. "This, plus about a million others on me are from that night. They had sufficient evidence, my stitches, the blood all over the apartment, the black eye and banged up shin. Hell, more than enough to put him away for a long time! And my asshole father's defense is that my ex came in and went crazy, so it was Dan who wound up paying instead of him!"

Smith was visibly shaken by her story, and she took his trembling hands into hers. These new human emotions flooding him were beyond everything he was programmed to be. She had unlocked something within him that he never knew existed. No words could equate what he wanted to say to her, and tears slipped from his eyes, spattering onto their joined hands.

"I know." She whispered, her tears mingling with his. "It's all so fucking overwhelming." Careful of her nose, he cupped the back of her head in one large hand and kissed her gently.

"That doesn't even begin to describe it." He murmured, picking her up and taking over to the bed on unsteady legs. He set her down on the soft mattress and tucked her in.

"Would you do one more thing before I zonk out?" She yawned.

"Anything." The way he stared at her when he said it caused her to sigh.

"Hold me." Slowly, he crawled in next to her and wrapped his arms around her thin form in a protective embrace. In that blissful moment, everything seemed to be at peace in her turbulent life., and for the first time in a long time, she slept soundly that night.



~*~
In the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here
~*~


fin