Disclaimer: I own none of the Matrix.
A/N: Thanks for the comments and support. And I'm glad you like it so much, Selina.. that means a lot to me.
Amber had finally left, leaving him and Angela alone in a small clearing, surrounded by fragrant pines and trees and bushes that Smith couldn't recognize.
Animals constantly cawed, growled and scraped in the thick shadows of the trees, and all this activity was beginning to grate on Smith, he wished for the constant grind of the city, the sweep of the car, the honk of the horn, the shouts of violence and frustration. At least these sounds were familiar, in the depths of these glades, he did not know how to react, or how he was going to sleep, which he would have to do now, much as he hated the thought of it.
Amber was building a fire, not speaking, not even looking at him. Smith felt vastly uncomfortable, he felt he should say something. But say what?, he wondered. Make small talk?. Smith's mind went blank, and his mouth tightened at the thought of making such brainless, meaningless conversation.
Finally, Amber sighed from deep within, and lit the fire with a match. She finally looked at him, but Smith did not wish for her to look at her any more, that drawn, frightened look on her face was worse than the cold, blank silence.
"What's wrong with you?." Smith finally asked, not liking the shaky sound of his usually smooth, confident voice.
"Nothing.." She said, looking away. "Amber... she made me think. You're not exactly going to be accepted here."
"Well... I could leave. If I am not welcome, I would not wish to stay, I don't want to be a thorn in yours, or anyone else's side."
"No!. No, I don't want you to leave... it's not safe anywhere else. If people don't want you... they'll... they'll have to lump it... anyone who has good in their heart is welcome. And I see good in you, Smith."
Smith was silent; he didn't know what to say. He had no good in him, he knew that, it was in his programming... or whatever you call that when you're a Virus, to be evil. But if Amber was to be believed... evil could not look upon this place without wanting to destroy. And yet he felt strangely numb. But this meant nothing; Smith would not believe he was no longer evil simply on the basis he did not want to destroy this place.
It meant nothing, nothing at all.
Angela stood up, brushed her hands on her trousers, which had changed from the jet-black material it had been in the Matrix, to a simpler, Zion-style wool garment.
She moved away, smiling weakly before moving away silently, leaving Smith apparently alone with the cracks and spits of the fire.
Then, a twig snapped behind him. Smith did not turn but he straightened up, listening hard, straining his ears, listening for the pop of another twig or a rustle of the trees.
Then it came, from directly behind him. He turned slowly, using the slowness to create the illusion to whoever it was, that he was not afraid and that he would go down fighting.
He turned full circle, and it was only Shadow, standing behind him, looking worried, his face drawn and popping with sweat. His hair fell wildly around his face, and his eyes would not settle on one spot.
"Shadow, what are you doing here?."
He panted, clutching at his stomach and his eyes racing around and scanning his surroundings in that unsettling way.
"Got... accused." He breathed deep, and that seemed to gather him some control, because his eyes settled firmly on Smith's face. "Locke, he said I was in on Angela rescuing you, that I helped plan it, or some bull shit. So.. he called me a traitor, I got exiled, and here we are, man."
"Welcome to hell." Smith said, grinning brightly.