Due credits: besides the regular disclaimer, a big thank-you to my sis Shan for writing a part of Ghost's lines in the Trinity/Ghost conversation. You sure know how to kick my butt so that I don't just stop writing, love :D
This thing's long. Goddamn long. Due to the recent complaints about the length of the first chapter. So there.
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It started to become slightly unnerving, he thought to himself. He knew well that there was concern behind Niobe's words and actions. He knew she cared, in a way, for how he felt, even though she never directly said what was on her mind. He suspected that pulling him out of the deadly, indifferent state he had fallen into back in Zion was the main reason why she offered him a place on her ship, again. She could do so much better with someone who wasn't as worn out as Ghost was, but still, she did it. She took him back. Not that he would ever admit it – no, he was too proud for that – but deep in his mind he felt that she saved his life.
"Have mercy and shut up, Sparks." Niobe snapped quietly. "Not everyone was as lucky as you to come out of that with an unscratched butt."
"Your wish, Captain, my Captain, is my keystroke, colon, double backslash, execute, command."
Ghost smiled and shook his head.
"Get out of here, Sparky. I'll take your shift."
"Have fun staring at this boring shit, Captain. I'm off to eat some of that goddamn goop."
Ghost pulled himself up and peered at the operator's station. He watched Niobe as she sat down, and suddenly, he felt as if something heavy hit him upside the head. She curled up in the chair, pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. So familiar. So awfully familiar.
--
He couldn't resist watching her. As always, he remained in distance, hidden in the shadows on the catwalk. He squatted silently, making sure she couldn't hear him. Oh, how well he knew this wouldn't make him feel any better. But either this, or he would just lay awake on his cot, trying hard not to shiver from the piercing cold.
They were still up on the broadcast level. The ship was running on as few auxiliary systems as possible due to some serious Sentinel activity, thus the cold was becoming more and more disturbing. Normally he would have no trouble with that; he had had enough time to get used to it. But now, that his heart was pounding, the blood rushing in his veins, he felt as if he was burning inside, but the outside almost froze to death. He forgot that he was out there, wearing only an old, thin sweatshirt, he forgot the cold. He didn't dare to twitch a muscle, for fear he would be noticed. Not that it would cause any trouble; that was, besides Trinity mocking him in a friendly way, or Sparks giving him those 'looks'.
He watched her sit in silence, as she stared at the Matrix code flowing down the screen. She was rocking gently in the operator's chair. The rhythmical sound of the old chair moving back and forth was almost hypnotizing, no less than the code itself. He watched her wrap her arms around her and shiver, and he realized she must have been nearly as cold as he was. Silently he rose, and walked to his quarters. The door opened with a sound that echoed in the lower deck of the ship, merging with the humming of the engines. Ghost looked around and picked a sweater from his cot, then quickly left, leaving the door open.
He swung the sweater across his shoulder and climbed up the ladder to the main deck. Here, in the core, the sound of the engines was a bit muffled. But no, it wasn't quiet. Instead, the sound was mixed with the silent buzzing in countless wires hanging above the terminals. In that scenery, Trinity's figure seemed tiny. There she sat, wrapping her arms around her involuntarily, trying to shield herself from the cold while still being completely focused on the code.
Ghost sighed. Slowly, he pulled himself up and entered the main deck, hesitating a bit before he came behind her, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Trinity turned around abruptly, as if awoken from a restless dream, and looked up at him. He could read a question in her eyes, yet after a few short seconds, which, to him, seemed far too long, she smiled warmly at him and studied his figure.
"Need anything, brother?" she asked, winking to him. She swung in the chair so that she would face him. Ghost locked eyes with her for what seemed a short moment, then turned his sight to the floor. Even after such a long time, each time she called him her brother, he felt that painful sting in his heart. Each time she said that, she brought him back to earth. She would never call him anything else. Not what he would want her to.
"I brought you this." He said simply, pulling the sweater down from his shoulder, and handed it to her. "It's cold down here. I thought you could use it."
Trinity's lips curved in a wide smile and she took the piece of clothing from his hand. Ghost turned around, and quickly headed back to the ladder.
"Ghost?"
Oh, no.
For a moment, all he could hear was his own heartbeat, quickening by the second, pounding, loud beyond reason. When it felt as if it couldn't beat any faster, it would quicken even more, the sound of her voice melting his mind. Slowly he turned around, forcing his eyes not to wander. He locked his gaze with her, and slowly took a deep breath. "Yes?"
He watched her rise from the chair and walk up to him. He could almost feel the growing heat as she approached him, even though he knew all too well it was virtually impossible. She came close to him, and put her hands on his shoulders. Then, she looked him straight in the eye, and Ghost's will broke. He looked away.
Trinity looked puzzled, seeing him avoid her sight. She tilted her head, and ran her fingers up his neck, lifting his chin so that he would face her again. Ghost shivered. He couldn't help it; her touch came suddenly and once more he was caught off guard. Today was just not his day to keep himself under control. Reluctantly, he looked at her.
"I was supposed to say that I could use some company here…" she paused, looking intensely into his eyes, "but now I changed my mind."
Ghost swallowed hard, but held up her gaze.
"And what made you change your mind, dear sister?"
Trinity sighed. "Alright, now. Don't give me that crap here, Ghost. You tell me what's wrong and I leave you be, or you keep that mouth shut and I'll keep asking until you tell me."
"Either way, you expect me to tell you some thing that supposedly is bothering me. I'm fine."
His voice sounded strangely flat. Not like his own. Trinity sighed again.
"I can see you're not. You don't want to talk, fine. But what I wonder is this: it didn't use to be this way, between us. And I wonder, what the hell happened."
Oh, dear. Ghost's thoughts sped through his mind; he made a mental note to never again give her reasons for such questions. He let out a slow breath.
"Nothing happened, sister. It's always been like that." he said carefully, observing her reactions.
"Then why you look like you've just taken a hell of a beating? And it sure wasn't me who gave it to you."
Wasn't it? He shrugged again.
"I guess I'm getting old, wrinkly and tired looking. I suppose I cannot take the ship life anymore." Ghost put on a smile that was supposed to look mischievous. It didn't. It looked all but that. It was forced.
Trinity took a step back, and watched him the most surprised look she could afford. "What?" She asked, and tilted her head, her eyes not leaving his face. "Whatever was _that_ supposed to mean, I didn't like the sound of it. If you're getting old, then so am I." She smiled and stepped closer to him again. "Don't think you've played on my weak side, but... it's always best to let things out of your system. You know you can tell me everything."
"I know, Trinity, I know. You've always been a good sister to me."
And why not more than that, he thought, and bashed himself immediately. He knew why.
Trinity sighed and sent him a long stare. Then she stepped back, and sat on the floor, wrapping her arms around her. She looked up, as if expecting him to react, while Ghost couldn't. He just looked at her, to his great discomfort feeling quite helpless. At last she reached out her hand, inviting him to join her.
"So. What's been bothering my dear brother that his PPU couldn't fix."
Reluctantly, Ghost sat down next to her. "How about my brain? It's been malfunctioning lately. Gives me the blue screen of death all the time!" he joked.
Trinity stifled a laugh and gave him a punch in the ribs. "You're cracking jokes while I'm trying to get some answers from you." She rolled her eyes and put her arm around Ghost's shoulders. "How about I beat it out of you, eh? You win, I leave you in peace. I win, you answer my question."
"Is that a challenge, young lady?" he asked mockingly.
Trinity narrowed her eyes. "Since you called me young, don't you dare say you're old again. Of course it's a challenge. So, you red or blue on this?"
"Are you shitting me? That's my lifestyle!" he said while getting up.
Ghost looked back at her and realized what he had just done. That was Trinity, and she _did_ stand a chance to beat it out of him. Unable to just sell her a blunt lie, he knew that if she got it her way, he would find himself backed against the wall. But, now it was too late.
"Alright, then." she replied, while getting up as well. "Let me add one to that double digit." she added quietly with a grin, as if to herself, yet making sure Ghost could hear precisely what she said.
"What was that again?"
"Twenty seven." she said, leaning towards him. Close. So goddamn close. Her cheek touched his. It was warm. Ghost squeezed his eyes shut.
"Twenty-seven, dear brother. You're never gonna beat me."
He opened his eyes quickly, and grinned, covering the previous expression best as he could. "We shall see about that" he murmured.
Trinity nodded. "Let's go."
They passed quickly, descending down the ladder to the lower deck. Ghost looked back and accidentally locked eyes with Sparks, who watched him one of his 'looks'. He made another mental note to beat the crap out of the operator in case he ever dared to mock him about what he just saw. Which, in fact, would be useless anyway. Sparky had no mercy when it came down to mocking his fellow crew members. Only the fact that Niobe wouldn't be too thrilled about it held Ghost back from strangling him sometimes.
As soon as they entered his quarters, Trinity sat down on the bed and turned around, watching him closely. The kind of a look that always gave him shivers. She sent him a mischievous smile.
"Better start thinking how you'll put your answer into words, dear brother. Remember: I win, no jokes when I want answers. You're honest with me."
"Like you used to be." She added. Whether he liked it or not, Ghost overheard it.
It hurt.
Ghost just glared at her and set up the program.
--
"I didn't give you your answer, even though you well deserved it…" Ghost whispered to himself. He brushed his hand across his face. He realized that he must have stared, quite involuntarily, at Niobe's back for at least few minutes. He did it again. Allowed himself to drown in those memories, while he shouldn't have. He smiled to himself, as he thought that Niobe would have given him quite a speech, had she noticed him standing there, with that absent look on his face. He pulled himself up and walked across the deck, taking a seat next to the Captain. He fixed his eyes on the screen. Peaceful and quiet. Niobe looked at him.
"Can't sleep?"
Ghost shook his head.
"You should." Niobe's voice sounded sympathetically… "You look like sh*t." …despite the mock. She sent him a reassuring smile.
Ghost ignored that line. It seemed pointless to him to comment on the obvious. He also knew it was Niobe's way of letting him know that she was worried about him, but she was never _that_ blunt with her true feelings. He didn't blame her. None of the rebels found expressing their feelings easy; the hell they had gone through forced them to grow a thick skin.
He nodded thoughtfully, as if concluding his own thoughts, and resumed watching the Matrix code. Neither of them spoke for a long time, each supposedly focused on their task, while in fact both Ghost's and Niobe's thoughts were wandering. The Captain's loud sigh pulled Ghost back to reality.
"What is it?" he asked, not looking at her.
Niobe leaned back in the chair and began to stretch her limbs.
"Daydreaming." She said, looking at her first mate out of the corner of her eye. "Just make sure Sparks doesn't ever find out about it." She laughed.
Ghost shifted uncomfortably in his chair and watched her with an interested look.
"Daydreaming about what?" he asked, reminding himself in his mind to never again let 'daydreaming of _whom_' slip past his lips, like he did once. That smack upside the head wasn't pleasant at all.
"A hot bath. And something to eat that requires teeth." She said dreamingly, as she continued stretching in the operator's chair.
"Mhm.." Ghost murmured, closing his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "And a long walk on a bigger space than twenty square meters."
"You could do all that I only you weren't _this_ persistent about hanging out in these sewers for _no_ apparent reason." Sparks' voice came from behind them, and both Niobe and Ghost turned around, watching the ship's operator with unhidden antipathy.
Niobe just rolled her eyes.
"I'll make sure to drop you in Zion next time we dock."
"Yeah? And who do you think will be as much out of their goddamn mind as I am to agree to operate your ship?" Sparks asked mockingly.
"Link."
This time it was Sparky's turn to roll eyes. He slumped into the jumpchair across the deck and leered.
"Oh, yeah. Forgot that everyone who ever set foot on Morpheus' ship has lost their mind."
Ghost's blood boiled in his veins as soon as he heard that statement. If looks could kill, Sparks would have dropped dead right there, in that very moment. He gripped the sides of his chair, ready to get up and lay hands on his neck.
Niobe placed her hand on his, and shook her head, holding him back.
"Sparks, do me a favor."
"Yeah?" Sparks sent her a puzzled look.
"The radio needs checking." She said wryly, raising her eyebrows and eyed the exit with a meaningful look, then shifted her sight back to Sparks.
"Okay, Captain, I got the message."
Sparks shrugged, lazily getting himself up. Two pairs of cold eyes watched him as he vanished in doorway, heading to the cockpit.
Ghost and Niobe exchanged meaningful looks.
"Times like this, I wonder: why, oh _why_ did I take _him_ back on the ship." Niobe shrugged, and swung in her chair, facing the terminals. Ghost followed her example, relaxing a little, now, that the source and reason of his annoyance was gone from his sight.
"Tell me about it."
Niobe smiled.
"Still. We've gone through a whole goddamn lot of shit together. Would be hard to forget about it now. He'd make a damn good mate, if only he wasn't this annoying."
Ghost turned around, eyeing her intensely.
"Is that why you took me back? 'Cause we used to be a team?"
"No."
"Then Why?"
"You know why."
"Being the captain doesn't mean you can play those little games with me."
"I'm not playing games with you."
"So?"
Niobe sighed. "You wanna know why? I'll tell you, then. I thought I'd be a b*tch if I left you there to spend your goddamn life moping in your quarters like you did for three months."
Ghost looked away, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline in his blood.
"I wasn't moping. I was simply contemplating the past events, and drawing conclusions."
"Bullshit."
"Whatever."
"Don't get snippy on me, Ghost. I don't need that crap." She unlocked the chair, and rolled it closer to him. She stared into his seemingly expressionless face for a short moment, as if pondering whether she should bother to continue at all, or not. "You'd feel better if you let it out of your system."
"Don't think you've played on my weak side, but... it's always best to let things out of your system."
Shit.
Ghost fixed his eyes on some distant point in the corner.
"There's nothing to let out." He snapped, biting his lips.
"Ghost. I'm not just the captain here. I'm your friend." Niobe placed her hand on his shoulder, ignoring his complete disregard for her words, or even her presence, in that very moment. "And believe it when I say that few would ever hear that from me." She added quietly, more to herself than to the man sitting beside her, as she looked blankly at his back turned to her.
"There is nothing to let out."
There was Ghost, as always, in denial.
Niobe sighed, and pulled back in her chair, falling silent.
Later that night, Ghost dragged himself up and walked slowly back to his quarters. He slid the door open, and leaned against the cold wall. He closed his eyes, feeling the weariness come over him. Perhaps tonight he was finally tired enough to get a few hours of dreamless sleep. God, how much he needed that. He found it harder to focus on his chores as the lack of sleep was catching up with him. He sneaked into the room, and quietly closed the door.
The small, not more than five square meters room was far from cozy. A small cot, hardly long enough to fit a man like Ghost, was lodged into the wall, preventing it from getting dislocated in case Niobe had the mood for one of her infamous suicidal flights. The pipes, which ran across the walls and the ceiling, were producing enough heat so that he wouldn't freeze at night, but made the place look more like an engine room than a place to live.
A small metal shelf, which served him as a table stuck out of the wall, just opposite the cot. If there was a mess anywhere on that small space, it was there. Various pieces of equipment usually found their place there, falling on the floor each time the ship took a sudden turn. Ghost didn't care. Not anymore.
Right under it, there was a small, now half-open drawer, mainly containing an extra blanket, and six or seven back-up disks for Ghost's personal processing unit. The latter was placed behind the cot, pinned to the floor with four three-inch long screws. That, besides two spare pieces of clothing, which were now thrown carelessly on the cot, was the only thing that really belonged to him on that ship. Like Niobe, he missed the Logos. There wasn't much more on that now wrecked hovercraft, but the amount of time Ghost had spent on its board made him categorize it as his home of sorts.
But now, things were changed. The Logos did her final flight a little over three months before. The flight that changed all. The flight that tore his heart from his chest, and cast it into void.
Ghost let out a deep sigh and lay down on his cot. He reached his hand behind it, turning on his PPU. He realized that he wouldn't get any sleep anyway. He bit his lower lip, slowly closed his eyes and, jacked in.
Inside the program, he opened his eyes, quite reluctantly and without haste, and took in the well-known surroundings. After all, he designed it all himself. He smiled, recalling Niobe saying that his mind could never truly let the fake reality of the Matrix go. Perhaps it was partly true; still, Ghost was convinced that this wasn't the case. He needed a place of his own, a hiding place, where he could just unwind. He refused to accept the fact that right now it was bringing memories to him much more than it served as a relief from the bitterness of reality. And yet, he wasn't willing to let that go, too. At least not yet.
His sight fell on the small bench to his right, at the border of a rectangular area designed specifically for sparring sessions. The pen and paper he had left there were still in place, exactly where he left them. Not that it surprised him; as with any program, unless someone tempered it, things never changed. He stared at the items for a longer while, knowing what he must do. Slowly, he walked over there, and sat down with a deep sigh. He picked the pen and paper while brushing his other hand across his face.
You know, I don't get much sleep these days. Dreams are not a refuge from reality anymore, or if they are, they present a much worse perspective than reality does. Everything in here reminds me of you. This program, even… it was always our place, though you used to argue that you were an intruder here. You _made_ this place what it is, Trin. Nothing is the same without you, even this goddamn software. And this ship… though you never set foot aboard it. Can't help it that I still hope I will see you here, somehow.
Maybe I made a mistake joining the crew again. Maybe I should have listened to those who told me it's better to stay away from this, and try to forget. But you see, I can't forget. Nor do I want to. I've got a feeling that if you ever heard me say that, you would have said that I pity myself and forced me to brace myself. But you're not here. Instead, _I_ am here, and I feel so damn lonely.
I thought you would always be here. I thought that there was time. Even though I never expected anything more from you than you were willing to give, there was always hope. Apparently, I was wrong. All I ever deemed true just crashed and burned. The philosophy I lived by just doesn't work anymore. Nothing does. Never thought I was so dependent on another, I was never that way. Or so I thought. Apparently, I was wrong again.
If there was a way to turn back time, I would go as far as it takes to do that. Just that… I don't know what I would do. I knew as well as you did that you had to go, and no one would ever convince you otherwise. That was your path. And you followed that path, with your head up high. Why can't I do the same? I seem to have lost my path.
I've decided to give myself time; but then, just as you did, I will have to make the choice.
