I had this story posted about six months ago, but I took it down because I didn't have time to work on it. Now though, I've made some improvements, and I hope that it's better. I'm not abandoning Awakening, never fear; I just wanted to branch out.

Thanks as always to the amazing Bagpipes5K2 for all her help and support (hugs).

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the Matrix franchise. If I did, do you really think I'd be writing fanfiction?

Chapter I: Memories

Cis stood motionless in the elevator, hearing its familiar metallic grating and clinking as it ascended through the ship. She had closed her hazel eyes, revelling in the darkness beneath them. Even though the light of the ships was dim and unreliable, it still felt bright to her, painfully so. Darkness was good. It felt contemplative. It gave her a chance to think.

A white-hot flash of anger flared up inside of her. She could kill Kaiser. He was her brother, but that gave him no right to do that to her. She had gone into the Construct to kill time, to have fun. It almost ridiculous seemed to have fun whilst preparing for a war, but she had been fighting in this war for many years. Going into the Construct, loading up her favourite program was about as much fun as was possible around these ships.

The elevator pinged open, and light flooded into meet Cis' unprepared eyes. She squeezed them shut even tighter, and covered them with a hand as she gradually let them adjust to the light. She could practically sleepwalk from the lift to her room, having done it so many times before, but now it was different. She stumbled through the metal corridor, feeling as though she was drunk, a feeling she had experienced but once before in Zion. Mistakenly, she'd let her crewmate Echo order for her, and she'd woken up the next days with an aching head, painful eyes that couldn't bear light and a fuzzy, dazed feeling that she couldn't shake off for ages. This felt surprisingly like that, actually, except that she was thinking clearly. More clearly than she really wanted to be thinking. She'd like to just fall asleep and forget about it. However, she knew that she was too worked up and too emotional for that.

Padding along on silent feet, she almost slid into her room like a ghost. Cis lay down almost silently on the narrow bed, and stared at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. Thoughts were invading her brain like sentinels, and she made no effort to keep them out. If she could just deal with everything that had happened, then she would maybe get some sleep tonight.

Cis shivered suddenly. She was only wearing thin clothes, and they didn't cover all that much of her. It wasn't really her style, but she was training, and her real body would be sweaty and hot afterwards, even if it was only her RSI doing the work. Plus, if she got injured, it would be easier for a medic to heal her injuries. She didn't like it, but it was easier. She was usually fine after a training session. The ships were always cold, but you got used to it. Now, Cis was shivering like she had when she had first been unplugged. She curled up beneath the threadbare blanket, obviously recycled several times, and closed her eyes.

Blood on her hands, on the ground, on her clothes…She could feel it, warm and sticky, almost heavy with the weight of its own importance. Liquid of life. It was everywhere. She hadn't expected so much.

She had her right shoulder up against his body, still warm, heart still beating. Her hands held up the broken-off blade, still through his throat, as if she was frozen that way. She could feel his body shudder with shock, and then stand absolutely still, the lack of movement more terrifying than if he was running at her with an axe.

The silver moon above her contrasted sharply with the immense crimson sky. The Oriental red, neither a stinging scarlet nor a subtle cherry, was almost multi-shaded, like tie-dye, or spilled blood. The blood running down her burnished sword and falling into her long, silvery hair exactly mirrored the sky and the moon. She could feel it, warm and fluid, running down her hair and warming her cool skin.

She was pressed into metal. Duo's armour was hardly soft or comforting, but it was his. It was familiar, almost more so than her own clothes.

"I wanted…to go back with you..." Cis stiffened as his words hit her in a hoarse, broken tone, unlike his usual smooth, serious voice. "I love you…"

His voice rolled through her like thunder. That same despair at his words, the same endless despair…

Cis sat bolt upright, feeling a sense of déjà vu. She could sense that some time had passed by, but there was no way of knowing how long she had been dreaming for. It didn't really feel like a dream though. It felt almost like a trance, for it had been so vivid, so lifelike, that she was sure that it couldn't have just been a dream. She felt removed from time, stuck in a loop.

Brushing her hair out of her eyes, she sat back slowly and carefully. Her white hair, growing choppily around her face, had once been much longer, but about eighteen months ago, she had cut it herself, to keep it out of her face. She'd always loved having long hair, but it was too painful to keep it, after what had happened.

She ran her hands through it. The strands were a little matted with sweat and neglect; she didn't have time to take care of it. However, now it was even worse. There was something thick and tacky knotting the fine tresses. Something not unlike…

Cis got up, out of the bed, and headed towards a shelf where she kept toiletries and the like. Just soap and shampoo. Just little things she needed. Her hand went not to the small bronze bottles though, and headed instead for the small, round mirror she kept there. Holding it up, tilting it carefully, she searched through her hair, holding up strands and examining them carefully.

Nothing. The white strands were as pure and clean as ever. Just as she…

Cis froze mid-thought. There. The clump of hair she had just held up was still white, but striped with an ugly red streak, looking for all the world like it had been bleeding. Several other strands were stick to it, the sticky, scarlet gum that could only be blood.

Duo's blood. Duo's blood was matted in her hair. She could feel it on her fingers, cool and dry, clinging to her hair with determined force. It flaked on her fingers, almost like peeling an onion.

Cis blinked, hazel lights winking out and then returning in the briefest of motions. In that second though, the blood vanished.

She dropped the strand of hair like it was red-hot, and forced herself to take a couple of deep breaths. After she felt calmer, she ran her hand through her hair, searching each section carefully.

Nothing.

Her hair was snarled and tangled, as well as being far from clean, but it was free of blood. Cis ran her hands through it violently, tangling it even more than before, but convincing herself that there was no blood in it, least of all Duo's.

What had just happened?

She felt like she was back in the Matrix, not knowing the difference between being awake and being asleep. She felt vulnerable and ignorant, just like she had back then. A sudden memory hit her out of nowhere.

Cis remembered the day it'd all started. It was almost a month after her brother, her older brother had gone missing without a trace. He'd taken nothing with him, everything in his room still complete. It was almost as though he'd simply walked down the street to see a friend, and would be back any moment.

But he wasn't coming back. He was gone.

Cis was devastated. He'd always been the stronger one, the more outgoing one, the one that always asked 'why?' Cis had always been the shy one, the one who had lingered in the shadows because she didn't know what to say. But despite these differences, he'd always looked after her, he'd been there for her. She knew he wouldn't have left without telling her. She just knew it, in her gut.

Cis had been sitting in his room after he left, looking on his computer. She knew he wouldn't leave without it. She used to tease him that his computer was his life, but after a while, the joke stopped being funny. The computer really was his life. She could sometimes hear him in the middle of the night, tapping away. He'd barely get any sleep, and he stopped talking to her. It was as though he really was living his life in a machine.

She'd found it then. Files and files, some downloaded legally, others taken from within a database thousands of miles away without their knowledge or consent. She'd found traces and programs and viruses and everything a hacker could use to dig a little deeper. She saw the websites he'd go onto, full of people asking each other the same question.

What is the Matrix?

So Cis had got involved. At first just to see if she could find her brother. But then, she had got caught up in it for its own sake, for the sheer beauty of destroying a system, of breaking the rules, and for the incredible need to find the answer. Not too long afterwards, she was contacted by a rebel, her now-captain, Styx. He'd brought some of his crew to meet her, and she'd been offered the red pill or the blue pill. She'd taken the red without hesitation. How could she turn his down? If she did, all she could look forward to was a life of regret and more questions. This way, she might at least get a few answers.

As she'd been freed, the first thing she heard in the real world was her Matrix name, being said over and over again. She was too weak to respond though, and it was only weeks later, once she was mobile and healthy, that she'd been able to find out who it was.

It was her brother. But not as she'd remembered him. He was Kaiser now. He'd been there, in the Matrix, as she went to meet Styx, but all dressed in black and his distinctive golden eyes obscured by opaque sunglasses, he'd been unrecognisable. And he couldn't say anything for fear that it would influence her decision on whether to take the red or blue pill. But now that she'd chosen, he could tell her. And in many ways, she was glad. She knew that he'd take good care of her. As always.

Kaiser had taken good care of her. But the person that had truly been there for her, through everything, had been another rebel, one freed long ago, yet he was still young. He'd been there with her through the training, and had answered her questions late at night, when curiosity kept her up as more and more questions grew. He'd been there for her.

Duo had been there for her…

Cis sat up from the memory with a jolt, suddenly feeling like it was yesterday that she was unplugged instead of almost five years ago.

Why now? Why do I still miss Duo so much? Why? Why can't I stop remembering him? Why do I feel like this? Why do I feel like crying right now? Why why why why why why…?

Without warning, her long, tapered fingers clenched themselves into a fist which hurled itself against the metal wall. The impact didn't register with her – she barely felt it – but what struck her senses with jarring effect was the clunking, metallic echo of the hit. Cis could practically hear it rippling through the ship. She held her hand by the wrist, suddenly feeling like she was made of wet wool.

Her head was swimming. She didn't know why she'd done that. It seemed so masochistic, so unlike her. But in another way, it felt good. It reminded her of just how strong she really was.

So why was she breaking up over a little simulation?

"It wasn't real," she whispered to herself, her usually low and clear voice hoarse and cracking. "It wasn't real…" The words died on the air. She knew that they were a lie. Whether it was truly real or not was irrelevant. What really mattered was how it made her feel. And they made her feel ignorant, and guilty for trying to deceive herself.

I don't care about the truth anymore…What's important is how we live our lives…

Duo's words echoed in her head, and Cis felt even colder. Good. Let the cold claim her. She had once been so strong, so in control. Now she felt like a broken doll, thrown away, abandoned, neither wanted nor loved by anyone…

Cis shivered without warning. She was so tired, so very, very tired. She wanted nothing more than to sleep, sleep and forget everything.

"Duo…" she whispered slightly, curling up into a ball and huddling beneath the blankets, suddenly shivering and shaking uncontrollably. The warmth of her limbs, huddled up together beneath the worn blanket, was at once unbearable and not enough. She fell into a fitful sleep, tears of both regret and frustration drying next to each other on her cool cheeks.

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