Title: Love, War and Bruises
Author: Stormhawk
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Matrix = Wachowski Brothers and Warner Brothers ATS = Me and Lord Mordy Stevie, Darth, Cray, Niq and Exodus crew and all other original character whose names I can't be bothered to type out at the moment = Me
Word Count: 11759
Summary: Stevie overhears Cray say something unforgivable which leads her to have second thoughts about the collaborators.
Notes: Takes place before Lord Mordy's Power Level.
And may I add a 'YAY' cause this fic ended up like four times as long as I originally thought.
Don't set people on fire, it's not nice.
Please read and Review.
Stevie turned around and punched Cray. He hadn't expected the attack so he went down like a rag doll. By the time he had caught his breath she was straddled across his chest beating his face as hard as she could.
Her teacher had to bodily pull her off him. "What do you think you're doing Miss Tarker? I'm sending you to...!"
"Wait," Cray said as he pushed himself up and held his bloody face. "There's no need for that."
"You're bleeding Mr. Michaels. I can't ignore that."
"Please Mr. Davies, let us sort it out."
The history teacher sighed, "if you're sure."
"Don't do me any favors," Stevie spat, "and I suggest you don't turn your back on me."
"Don't threaten other students Brooke."
Cray picked up his bag and walked out toward the hall, "come on Brooke. Now."
Stevie picked up her bag and followed him out. "What was that all about?" He asked when they were out of range of their classroom.
"You know why," she said as she stared coldly at him.
"I have no idea!" he said as he took his hand away from his face and looked at the blood.
"You don't?" she spat at him. "I am never speaking to you again! I hate you!"
"What?"
"I heard what you said," she said as she shoved him back against the lockers. Cray dropped himself to the ground, not wanting to get hit again.
"What did I do Stevie?"
She leant in close, "I heard what you said about my father. If you don't get out of my face I will show you how much I am my father's daughter."
Realization dawned in his eyes, "just listen for one minute. I don't think you heard me right."
"You know I have a gun, you know I know how to use it. Don't tempt me further or I will use it on you." She picked up her bag and walked away from him as she pulled out her cell phone. She dialed a special number that put her straight through to Smith's earpiece. "Dad? Can you pick me up from school?"
"Of course," he said and then shifted to her. He looked around, no one had seen him appear from nothing except for Cray. "Did you miss your bus?"
"No, I just need to get away from here."
He motioned to Cray, "him too? Why is he bleeding?"
"He just is. Shoot him." Cray jumped up and ran, unlike Stevie, whose gun was at home, he wasn't going to chance that Smith was actually going to shoot him.
Smith gave his daughter a confused look then put his hand on her shoulder and shifted them to her room of the mansion. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
She dumped her bag and phone on her desk and shrugged, "I just had a bad day."
"Do you want to tell me about it? And was there some particular reason you wanted me to shoot Mr. Michaels?"
"Can you do that for me?"
"It would do damage to the relationship with the collaborators. Could you give me a reason first?"
"I'm your daughter, that should be reason enough."
"It is reason enough, I just need to understand why I am shooting a Smurf."
"Don't use that stupid nickname, he doesn't deserve a nickname, only a bullet."
"Contrary to what you may think or may have heard, shooting doesn't solve everything."
"Yeah, sometimes you run people over."
"You can solve problems without killing people, and I thought Cray was your friend."
"He used to be," she said as she shook her head.
"What happened Stevie? What did he do?"
"He just said something I can't ever forgive."
"Was he teasing you? Human boys are apparently quite stupid at that age."
"He didn't say anything against me."
"Then what did he say?"
"We were in history. We were studying World War Two. He sits in the row behind me, and I heard him say that the agents were the new Nazis, that they have killed more people than the Third Reich ever did. They guy who was sitting next to him was like 'what?' and then..." She sat down on her bed and sighed, "he said that since you're in charge, that would make you the new Hitler. I stood up and punched him as hard I could. I wish I had of hit him harder, should have kicked him as well. I'm going to start carrying my gun to school."
"You will do no such thing," Smith said levelheadedly. "It would cause far too many problems."
"I understood it when Morpheus and Neo used to say stuff like that behind my back, oh god I hated them but I didn't expect it here, I thought he was my friend, I never expected he would..."
She stood up and pulled open her cupboard. Her Desert Eagle was sitting in a holster that was hanging on a hook on the inside of the door. "I thought I was safe here. I'm going to move out." She looked down at her father, "you haven't said anything."
"Stevie you know how old I am. I have witnessed every war since the middle of the 1800s. Humans are the only race so stupid as to fight the same wars twice - those wars were fought in the real world a couple of hundred years ago and fought again in the Matrix."
"Then why didn't you stop them?"
"It's not our job to stop what humans start. But I do remember one thing from the World War Two era, something a rebel said to me. He said 'better an Agent than a Nazi, at least we know why we're fighting.'"
"Cray is so stupid, but he was a rebel - that means he is stupid. All of them, the whole stupid Exodus crew. The whole lot of them, they..." She sat down and put her hands over her face, "why aren't you mad?"
"If I let every insult I've ever received bother me, I would be a physiological mess, I'd sit in a corner all day wearing a straight jacket."
"You're not the straight jacket type."
Smith noticed that she wasn't holding onto her Desert Eagle anymore. "Do you still want to shoot him?"
She was silent for a long moment, "no...," she finally said, "seriously injure him yes, but don't bother shooting him. But I am never speaking to him again."
"Do you think you could talk it out with him?"
"He said you were the new Hitler, that is unforgivable."
Smith picked up her right hand and saw a sharp ring, "ah, that's how you cut him. It should scar if it makes you feel any better."
"I'm still moving out. I'm going to go to one of those really expensive hotels for the night, the ones with the room service that charges through the nose."
"Stay here tonight, and I'll help you look for your own house in a couple of days if that's still what you really want by the end of the week."
"An apartment or penthouse, I don't need the trouble of yard care."
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Do you mind sticking around for a while?"
"Not at all."
"You want to do my math homework?"
"If I do it, you won't learn anything."
"Why do I need to learn anything? It's not like I need a job or anything."
"What do you want to be?"
"I really don't know. For a long time I wanted to be a 'Zion Saboteur' but I don't need to do that. Could I be a recruit?"
"Technically, I suppose you could but I don't want you in that kind of danger."
"Do you think I'm tough enough to be a recruit?"
"I think a year in the real world proved that. A lot of other people your age would have crumpled being out there."
"That world sucks away your soul, I just had to live in the hope that I could come back one day."
"You're back now."
She was quiet and then looked up at him with a different expression on her face, "dad? What's a soul?"
"I don't have a theology subroutine to explain that to you."
"What is it? I've been thinking about it since...Jessica. Was that some kind of technical thing or was that her? Really her that...? Her soul wanted back and mine was too weak...I need to know if I have a soul."
"I can tell you without a single doubt that you do. It may not be something that can be measured and logged by the Mainframe but more what kind of person you are, and you are a good person, and you have a good soul."
"Do you have one? I know you do, but do you think you have one?"
"No one has ever asked me that before, but if you believe I have one, that's good enough for me."
"How many rebels have you killed?"
"I have never taken an innocent life."
Stevie sighed, "I like that answer better than kill count."
He smiled, "I thought you might."
Later that night after Smith had left Stevie was using her laptop to look for a nice place to move into through some online real estate sites. There was a knock at the door. "Get lost!" she called, not wanting to talk to anyone.
"What'd I do?" Darth questioned. "Do you know where Niq put the bandages? She put them away after we did the shopping."
"No clue Star Wars boy. Leave me alone."
"Cray came home this afternoon with his face bandaged, but the bandages have fallen off. Now I either have to turn this place upside down looking for where Niq put them or take Cray to the hospital."
"I couldn't care less," she said as she clicked on a link.
"You don't know where Niq put the bandages?"
"Why don't you just call her?"
"Her cell was off." Darth paused. "Did you do that to him?"
Stevie stood up and opened the door, "yeah I did. Have you got a problem with that?"
"I'm sure there was a reason," he said and walked away.
"I hope it gets infected," Stevie muttered after him.
Two hours later.
"Are you eating tonight?" Darth asked as he knocked on Stevie's door.
"I ordered pizza."
"Are you ok?"
"Why do you care?"
"What do you mean, why do I care?" he asked, taken aback by the question.
Stevie opened the door and stared at him, "I mean, deep down you're a rebel so why would you care about an agent's offspring?"
"I take offence at that, deep down I am a socially inept programmer/hacker. Deep down you're a sixteen-year-old girl and deep down Cray is a...I think he's a puppy, the jury is still out on that issue."
"Ha ha," she replied dryly.
"Please tell me why you are both locked in your rooms not speaking to anyone and why you injured him."
"None of that is really important. Cray just helped me realize something. Oh, and I'm moving out."
"Cray helped you realize what? And why suddenly would we stop caring about you? You're moving out?"
"By the end of the week. Can you pay for the pizza when it gets here?" she asked as she closed the door.
"Sure," he said to the closed door. "And if you want to talk I'm just upstairs."
Author: Stormhawk
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Matrix = Wachowski Brothers and Warner Brothers ATS = Me and Lord Mordy Stevie, Darth, Cray, Niq and Exodus crew and all other original character whose names I can't be bothered to type out at the moment = Me
Word Count: 11759
Summary: Stevie overhears Cray say something unforgivable which leads her to have second thoughts about the collaborators.
Notes: Takes place before Lord Mordy's Power Level.
And may I add a 'YAY' cause this fic ended up like four times as long as I originally thought.
Don't set people on fire, it's not nice.
Please read and Review.
Stevie turned around and punched Cray. He hadn't expected the attack so he went down like a rag doll. By the time he had caught his breath she was straddled across his chest beating his face as hard as she could.
Her teacher had to bodily pull her off him. "What do you think you're doing Miss Tarker? I'm sending you to...!"
"Wait," Cray said as he pushed himself up and held his bloody face. "There's no need for that."
"You're bleeding Mr. Michaels. I can't ignore that."
"Please Mr. Davies, let us sort it out."
The history teacher sighed, "if you're sure."
"Don't do me any favors," Stevie spat, "and I suggest you don't turn your back on me."
"Don't threaten other students Brooke."
Cray picked up his bag and walked out toward the hall, "come on Brooke. Now."
Stevie picked up her bag and followed him out. "What was that all about?" He asked when they were out of range of their classroom.
"You know why," she said as she stared coldly at him.
"I have no idea!" he said as he took his hand away from his face and looked at the blood.
"You don't?" she spat at him. "I am never speaking to you again! I hate you!"
"What?"
"I heard what you said," she said as she shoved him back against the lockers. Cray dropped himself to the ground, not wanting to get hit again.
"What did I do Stevie?"
She leant in close, "I heard what you said about my father. If you don't get out of my face I will show you how much I am my father's daughter."
Realization dawned in his eyes, "just listen for one minute. I don't think you heard me right."
"You know I have a gun, you know I know how to use it. Don't tempt me further or I will use it on you." She picked up her bag and walked away from him as she pulled out her cell phone. She dialed a special number that put her straight through to Smith's earpiece. "Dad? Can you pick me up from school?"
"Of course," he said and then shifted to her. He looked around, no one had seen him appear from nothing except for Cray. "Did you miss your bus?"
"No, I just need to get away from here."
He motioned to Cray, "him too? Why is he bleeding?"
"He just is. Shoot him." Cray jumped up and ran, unlike Stevie, whose gun was at home, he wasn't going to chance that Smith was actually going to shoot him.
Smith gave his daughter a confused look then put his hand on her shoulder and shifted them to her room of the mansion. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
She dumped her bag and phone on her desk and shrugged, "I just had a bad day."
"Do you want to tell me about it? And was there some particular reason you wanted me to shoot Mr. Michaels?"
"Can you do that for me?"
"It would do damage to the relationship with the collaborators. Could you give me a reason first?"
"I'm your daughter, that should be reason enough."
"It is reason enough, I just need to understand why I am shooting a Smurf."
"Don't use that stupid nickname, he doesn't deserve a nickname, only a bullet."
"Contrary to what you may think or may have heard, shooting doesn't solve everything."
"Yeah, sometimes you run people over."
"You can solve problems without killing people, and I thought Cray was your friend."
"He used to be," she said as she shook her head.
"What happened Stevie? What did he do?"
"He just said something I can't ever forgive."
"Was he teasing you? Human boys are apparently quite stupid at that age."
"He didn't say anything against me."
"Then what did he say?"
"We were in history. We were studying World War Two. He sits in the row behind me, and I heard him say that the agents were the new Nazis, that they have killed more people than the Third Reich ever did. They guy who was sitting next to him was like 'what?' and then..." She sat down on her bed and sighed, "he said that since you're in charge, that would make you the new Hitler. I stood up and punched him as hard I could. I wish I had of hit him harder, should have kicked him as well. I'm going to start carrying my gun to school."
"You will do no such thing," Smith said levelheadedly. "It would cause far too many problems."
"I understood it when Morpheus and Neo used to say stuff like that behind my back, oh god I hated them but I didn't expect it here, I thought he was my friend, I never expected he would..."
She stood up and pulled open her cupboard. Her Desert Eagle was sitting in a holster that was hanging on a hook on the inside of the door. "I thought I was safe here. I'm going to move out." She looked down at her father, "you haven't said anything."
"Stevie you know how old I am. I have witnessed every war since the middle of the 1800s. Humans are the only race so stupid as to fight the same wars twice - those wars were fought in the real world a couple of hundred years ago and fought again in the Matrix."
"Then why didn't you stop them?"
"It's not our job to stop what humans start. But I do remember one thing from the World War Two era, something a rebel said to me. He said 'better an Agent than a Nazi, at least we know why we're fighting.'"
"Cray is so stupid, but he was a rebel - that means he is stupid. All of them, the whole stupid Exodus crew. The whole lot of them, they..." She sat down and put her hands over her face, "why aren't you mad?"
"If I let every insult I've ever received bother me, I would be a physiological mess, I'd sit in a corner all day wearing a straight jacket."
"You're not the straight jacket type."
Smith noticed that she wasn't holding onto her Desert Eagle anymore. "Do you still want to shoot him?"
She was silent for a long moment, "no...," she finally said, "seriously injure him yes, but don't bother shooting him. But I am never speaking to him again."
"Do you think you could talk it out with him?"
"He said you were the new Hitler, that is unforgivable."
Smith picked up her right hand and saw a sharp ring, "ah, that's how you cut him. It should scar if it makes you feel any better."
"I'm still moving out. I'm going to go to one of those really expensive hotels for the night, the ones with the room service that charges through the nose."
"Stay here tonight, and I'll help you look for your own house in a couple of days if that's still what you really want by the end of the week."
"An apartment or penthouse, I don't need the trouble of yard care."
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Do you mind sticking around for a while?"
"Not at all."
"You want to do my math homework?"
"If I do it, you won't learn anything."
"Why do I need to learn anything? It's not like I need a job or anything."
"What do you want to be?"
"I really don't know. For a long time I wanted to be a 'Zion Saboteur' but I don't need to do that. Could I be a recruit?"
"Technically, I suppose you could but I don't want you in that kind of danger."
"Do you think I'm tough enough to be a recruit?"
"I think a year in the real world proved that. A lot of other people your age would have crumpled being out there."
"That world sucks away your soul, I just had to live in the hope that I could come back one day."
"You're back now."
She was quiet and then looked up at him with a different expression on her face, "dad? What's a soul?"
"I don't have a theology subroutine to explain that to you."
"What is it? I've been thinking about it since...Jessica. Was that some kind of technical thing or was that her? Really her that...? Her soul wanted back and mine was too weak...I need to know if I have a soul."
"I can tell you without a single doubt that you do. It may not be something that can be measured and logged by the Mainframe but more what kind of person you are, and you are a good person, and you have a good soul."
"Do you have one? I know you do, but do you think you have one?"
"No one has ever asked me that before, but if you believe I have one, that's good enough for me."
"How many rebels have you killed?"
"I have never taken an innocent life."
Stevie sighed, "I like that answer better than kill count."
He smiled, "I thought you might."
Later that night after Smith had left Stevie was using her laptop to look for a nice place to move into through some online real estate sites. There was a knock at the door. "Get lost!" she called, not wanting to talk to anyone.
"What'd I do?" Darth questioned. "Do you know where Niq put the bandages? She put them away after we did the shopping."
"No clue Star Wars boy. Leave me alone."
"Cray came home this afternoon with his face bandaged, but the bandages have fallen off. Now I either have to turn this place upside down looking for where Niq put them or take Cray to the hospital."
"I couldn't care less," she said as she clicked on a link.
"You don't know where Niq put the bandages?"
"Why don't you just call her?"
"Her cell was off." Darth paused. "Did you do that to him?"
Stevie stood up and opened the door, "yeah I did. Have you got a problem with that?"
"I'm sure there was a reason," he said and walked away.
"I hope it gets infected," Stevie muttered after him.
Two hours later.
"Are you eating tonight?" Darth asked as he knocked on Stevie's door.
"I ordered pizza."
"Are you ok?"
"Why do you care?"
"What do you mean, why do I care?" he asked, taken aback by the question.
Stevie opened the door and stared at him, "I mean, deep down you're a rebel so why would you care about an agent's offspring?"
"I take offence at that, deep down I am a socially inept programmer/hacker. Deep down you're a sixteen-year-old girl and deep down Cray is a...I think he's a puppy, the jury is still out on that issue."
"Ha ha," she replied dryly.
"Please tell me why you are both locked in your rooms not speaking to anyone and why you injured him."
"None of that is really important. Cray just helped me realize something. Oh, and I'm moving out."
"Cray helped you realize what? And why suddenly would we stop caring about you? You're moving out?"
"By the end of the week. Can you pay for the pizza when it gets here?" she asked as she closed the door.
"Sure," he said to the closed door. "And if you want to talk I'm just upstairs."