*Ahem*
Okay…This is my little story fling here. It sucks, but I'm not a HUGE Matrix fan…so the plot may lack a little. A few notes from the author if you will…
1: If some of it seems confusing, that's because some of it is confusing. I try to explain things, but sometimes it doesn't work very well.
2: Honest to god and any other holy force on the face of the damned earth, I SWEAR on behalf of any living breathing reader I will TRY WITH ALL MY MIGHT to finish this fic! *Pant pant* I'm notorious for writer's block…but I think I've got a good bite on things.
With that said…uh, PLEASE enjoy. ^_^
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Nakedness, wetness, the longing for encasement, for seclusion again. These feelings Neo knew, or more precisely, remembered them. He recalled them vividly and forgot them vaguely, even at times dreamt them, much as he did now. But it would not be such an unusual occurrence if he was not feeling them so clearly now. A cold sweat trickled down the bridge of his nose as his eyes opened, a very real reminder of the nightmare, and he quickly reached to sweep it away. He breathed out slowly, shifting his weight underneath that of Trinity, resting motionlessly on his chest. The dream haunted still behind his eyes, coiled amongst his subconscious but clear in his mind like a flash of lightening. Ruffling his mussed hair, he craned his head back and sighed, clutching the bed sheets as though to hold himself down to this world. Why were these frivolous memories troubling him now? It wasn't as though coming out of the Matrix was as unnerving as his dream was portraying; it was a shock, unsettling to be hurled nude and cold into hard reality. He was barely coherent when it happened all the same.
The dream started as he tumbled, fully aware, down the tubes and muck and cracking onto a hard surface, bleeding, terrified. The growls and groans of machines echoed around his ears, threatening to close in on him if he so much as let a breath escape his aching lungs and rip every trembling bit of flesh from his seizing body. And then it was over. And for those few brief moments before he realized once more he was here, aboard Nebuchadnezzar, he was confused and disoriented. The dream made very little sense and had very little personal relevance beside the fact that the event played out in his mind alone. It was probably nothing, but then again, probability held little grounds in these times. There was no more he could do but lie in wait. And so each time the dream came again, he told himself as much once more.
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"It's funny," said Link, leaning over the control panels and biting his lip. "I just can't get a clear signal."
"And you're absolutely sure that it is human?" Morpheus questioned, avidly awaiting an answer.
Link started to nod, but stopped, furrowing his brow. "Uh…well, no, actually." He grunted in frustration. "I mean…sometimes."
"Sometimes?" he raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across a dull gray sweater.
"Yeah. I mean, there are times when the signal's strong, like a beating heart, you know? But other times…it's like nothing's there at all."
"Is it possible that the target is moving?"
"I don't think so. When the signal comes back, there it is, right in the exact coordinates. And unless this…thing…can travel at light speeds, I'd be able to detect where exactly it was going in the meantime." Link explained.
"How…far off is it?"
"Not far at all." He shook his head. "Do you think it's worth checking out?"
"I suppose it's worth a look. As long as you say it poses no threat."
"Doesn't look like it." The ship rocked as it glided from a stationary position and pushed along. "Might be a malfunctioning…" he finished with a shrug. "Shouldn't be a problem. We could take it out easy if it gives us any trouble."
"Set her down, than, Link. I'll let the others know." Morpheus inhaled as he lifted himself from the seat and exited.
