Disclaimers: They belong to the Wachowski brothers, Time-Warner and whoever else…
Shounen-ai! Slash! What ever you want to call it!
2st Continuation part to "Separate Lives". Won't make sense unless you've read it first.
They'd seen it happen, right in front of them, not three meters away. The human, Anderson, also called Neo, had done the impossible; not only defeated their Command unit but destroyed him. The look on Smith's face, before he had… had exploded… it hadn't been fear of annihilation; it had been outrage, pure and utter fury. It wasn't supposed to be like that, they were meant to destroy the human rebels not the other way round. But this human had been different… they had destroyed him, Smith had empted an entire clip into the human's chest, there had been no life signs. It didn't make sense; humans did not respawn. Yet this one had, standing where their Command unit had been destroyed, facing them, fearless and invincible. And for the first time the possibility of defeat entered into the equation.
Brown did the only thing he could think to do, the one thing he should have done the first time he'd encountered the rebels; he ran. There was every possibility that this human; this 'Neo' would destroy him anyway, just like he'd destroyed Smith but it was an almost basic instinct to flee. Some detached part of him considered the irony of the situation. The first time he'd been cornered by the rebels he couldn't run and now that he had the opportunity to escape it probably wouldn't help. Last time he had been a single terrified human, now he was an equally terrified Agent… perhaps it wasn't so different after all.
Vaguely Brown was aware that Jones had also fled but in the opposite direction. He didn't know where Jones would have gone but then he didn't know where he was going either. He just had to get away. Away from the human with his terrible calm and destructive capability; away from the sharp memory of exploding code that had once been an Agent. It probably was a good think that being an Agent meant that you were only comprised of code, otherwise it might have been quite messy, Brown found himself thinking hysterically.
Hours, minutes, maybe only seconds later, he was hunched up in a corner in some disused storeroom of some miscellaneous building. Shoved back against the wall, arms round his knees trying to forget the nightmares that were creeping up on him again. Clenching his teeth so hard that it would have hurt, had he been human, Brown's hazel eyes were wide and staring behind his standard issue sunglasses. He made no sound; no tremor betrayed the horrific memory that had ceased hold of him… the memory of his death.
The abruptness of the gunshot had been a surprise rather than the expected fatal stab of pain. The rebels had surrounded him in his apartment, after months of harassing him, though standard phone line and computer connection. He'd been half mad with fear by then. Unable to think rationally by the time they had tried to make him choose the real world over the Matrix. Too scared to consider the consequences of his refusal. They shot him, to keep their silence. Lying on the couch, helplessly bleeding his life out, he'd seen them leave. Heavy boots trudging through what was left of his apartment, walking away as if nothing had happened. They'd even killed his cat.
Pulled back into 'reality' by the sound of footsteps Brown drew a shuddering breath, waiting for the inevitable. He couldn't fight back, wasn't going to try. The system saving him, making him an Agent had only been a brief suspension of the inevitable and now; maybe fate was simply reclaiming what should have been. Brown closed his eyes and rested his head against his knees, regret and resignation the cause of the tears that slipped from beneath his eyelids.
The footsteps stopped and it was Jones who knelt down beside him. There was a moment's hesitation, followed by arms encircling him, drawing him close. Resigned to inevitable destruction Brown leaned against the other Agent, tears still falling from closed eyes. They would be destroyed soon, nothing could change that fate, nothing they could do would make any difference. Inevitability was often cruel. With that though in mind, Brown gave up all resistance, letting himself relax into Jones' embrace. It was strange, the comfort of another's arms around him was oddly familiar and he knew, more specifically that he was no stranger to the embrace of another man. What a strange thing to remember… especially since he, like the others, couldn't actually remember his original name. He'd been someone once, just a human, someone with a life to live on their own terms; rather than that the terms of the system… once.
He didn't want it to end here, not like this but he hadn't wanted his human life to be ended by the rebels and he hadn't had a say in that either. It seemed that everything was in the hands of the rebels, first his life, now his existence. Opening his eyes, looking at Jones from behind his sunglasses, he wondered what the other Agent was thinking. He didn't know since internal communication between all three Agents had been forcibly severed with Smith's destruction. Jones didn't seem to notice that he was being observed, staring off into the distance, he might not be seeing anything at all.
There was no true concept of time passing. Brown wondered how the end would come, would they be destroyed individually or would this strange human try to destroy the entire system. The thought of the latter option was not something he wanted to contemplate, too terrible to envision but then, if he wasn't there to witness it, why should it matter? They'd failed to stop the human, failed the system the minute they ran away. Not like Smith, at least he'd tried to fight. Brown supposed it could be said that he'd died honourably… not huddled in some cellar waiting for… for a human with terrifying abilities to bring it all to an end.
He was crying again, he could feel it, the hot tears sliding down his cheeks. The memory came back; terrified, alone; the ringing of the gunshot in the still air of his apartment. Jones' arms around him brought him back to reality, the comforting murmur of nothing coming through the dead communication channels. This time he raised his head as he looked at Jones, lips parted to ask or plead, he didn't know what for. And the unasked for comfort came, as Jones' mouth gently pressed against his. Brown's eyes closed again as he lost himself to the sensation of that gentle, unhurried kiss. He supposed that it must look rather strange, two Agents locked in this intimate embrace but he couldn't bring himself to care. He couldn't care if the human found them like this, if this was how they would meet their end. Yielding to the control of the other, to the inevitable, Brown let himself forget about everything… his human death, the rebels, Smith's destruction… the human called 'Neo'.
I always figured that this pairing was a possibility, in the back of my mind but didn't actually bother to expand on it until now. I wasn't too bothered about where Brown and Jones went at the end of the movie either. Then Hyper Angel suggested yaoi and everything suddenly fell into place.
So far in "Separate Lives" the Agents seem to cover the range of sexual orientations: Smith's straight, Brown is gay and Jones is, apparently, bi!
Essential angst-ness can be blamed on Zemfira's "Webgirl" which I've been listening to while typing.
02:30, 27/04/02
Narsus