Title: The Matrix: Resurrection

Author: AntipodeanOpaleye

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Spoilers/Post Revolutions The machines still owe Neo his peace; peace on levels he didn't intend, couldn't imagine, and had never brought himself to hope for.

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from any other source either doesn't belong to me or is a purely coincidental occurrence. Anything that you've never seen probably belongs to me. I write for enjoyment and no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Hastily finished, and therefore hastily posted. Please excuse any typos/mistakes.

Thanks to the reviewers:

Divamercury - As always, thank you.

Cruel Kindness - Glad you enjoyed; and sorry for the delay. Hopefully I'll be quicker with the next chapter… but I always say that. Here's hoping.

Brooke - Neo and Trinity are indeed in this chapter, and will most likely be more so in the next. Glad you like it so far.

Nithke - Reviews like yours are one of the reasons I continue writing this fic. Thank you so much.

Daydreamer731 - Thank you :D And it was nice talking to you those few times - hope to see you online sometime soon.

LiMiYa - I personally enjoyed writing the Persephone/Smith scene, and I'm most thrilled that someone else enjoyed it as well.

Osage - Thank you very much.

Enjoy - this chapter's sort of slow, but it's leading up to something more interesting, or at least, something that I think is more interesting.

-AO

Chapter Seven

"Do you know where you're going?"

"Yes. It this way."

"What's that way? And why are we headed for it, anyway?"

"I'm not sure. I just know we're going there."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Trust me."

She couldn't argue. She trusted him with her life; with her heart and soul. He'd never let her down before.

Neo and Trinity moved stealthily, one behind the other, through the degradation and filth that littered the back alleyways of the outskirts of the city, just brushing the borders of suburbia. Night had fallen hours ago, and they had vacated the central metropolis at Neo's insistence, claiming that he was certain that they needed to reach some unidentified location, the nature of which he was yet unaware of, and yet was unwavering confident lay in the direction he was leading.

No doubt it was a strange situation. But both had endured stranger.

"You're still tracking them?" Morpheus' voice was commanding, but laced with a certain disbelief.

"Yes sir," Link replied with his own brand of incredulity. He had accessed every map, every business, every apartment building and place of residence; every scrap of information he could possibly bring up on the small district that the figures of Neo and Trinity were weaving their way through on his monitor, and even so, he could not discern their intentions in traveling into this area.

It wasn't overtly common for those who entered the Matrix to travel outside of the core of a city unless a given situation called inexorably for it. It was unnecessary, and for many of the freed minds, it was almost painful to see the lives they had once lived inside of their minds, the lives that had never known and yet still remembered so well; it was difficult for them to see those lives being carried out in blissful ignorance, the see those people moving about, blind to the truth. It was saddening, yet at times alleviating, to witness.

Link looked behind him, noticing Niobe had left the room for the first time in hours, and that Zee was seated a few feet away, mending a worn vestment of a faded heather hue that draped across her thighs. He looked upon her almost hungrily, and after a moment, she felt his eyes upon her and looked up from her domestic doings to meet his gaze. He smiled at her, trying to imagine a life in which she was not his; as the existence Neo led before he met Trinity. And then it hit him.

"What was Neo's name?"

"What?" Morpheus' voice was sharp in his ear. The urgency Link had expressed in his inquiry had most definitely been conveyed, not only across the wire but across the room, where he could hear Zee's footsteps approaching as she came up behind him, wrapping her arms around him from behind the chair. He relaxed into her touch.

"Neo was his hacker alias, wasn't it? What was the name he used while he was still plugged in?"

There was a slight pause, during which Zee seized the opportunity to capture her husband's lips with her own. He responded fervently; it seemed they had not been alone together for an eternity. As his tongue massaged hers instinctively, he was almost indignant when Morpheus' masculine voice interrupted their kiss.

"Anderson. Thomas A. Anderson

Link reluctantly returned to his keyboard, deftly typing in the name and watching the torrential stream of information course past his eyes as he stared at the screen, waiting for the result that finally revealed itself with a small 'ping' from the speakers.

"The area's residential, for the most part," Link declared with no small measure of self-satisfaction as the record for Mr. Anderson's rent appeared on his screen. "And who would Neo need to see after all of this time? No one. 'Cept maybe himself."

It was as if they'd told him, communicated with him, somehow. As if they'd instructed him to come here. He had traveled of his own volition, yes; but it was as if the impetus had been predetermined, embedded within him. He would have recognized the surrounding area anywhere, at any time. He would have known the building well enough had it been half-charred and still smoking - just the barest structural basis would have been clue enough. He knew this place like the back of his own hand - and as he ascended the stairs he knew that there would still be a spare key hidden at the corner of the door frame where the painted wood was becoming dislodged from the wall. But perhaps that was just a trick of the Matrix.

He unlocked the door, and a wave of pseudo-memories consumed him for an instant as he took in the familiar apartment - himself in a wrinkled dress-shirt, dark circles tattooed permanently under each eye as he sat up at all hours of the night, hacking and searching and looking for the elusive answer to his problems - the answer he had inevitably found.

He walked around a pile of strewn clothes that had not been moved since he had left - in fact, other than the thick layout of dust that gilded the surfaces about the rooms, there was no evidence that any time had passed since he had last set foot there. No evidence in his surroundings, at least. The evidence in himself was entirely visible.

"Neo," came the questioning voice from his side as Trinity came to stand next to him. She recognized the place; how could she not , having observed him so intently for as long as she had? But why had they come here; what purpose could it serve…

"It appears that I was thoroughly misinformed," a strong, very commanding voice erupted from the seedy-looking couch. Both Neo and Trinity spun to face it, but the white-haired man that entered their line of vision was recognizable to only one of them. "My erroneous assumptions concerning you have evolved into a most disconcerting tendency of late. One that I intend to work most fervently to rectify, I assure you."

"Indeed it has come to pass that you and I have crossed paths once more. And it seems you did manage to save her life," the Architect inclined his head, indicating Trinity, "as well as ensure the continuation and preservation of your precious Zion." His gaze turned almost sinister as his lips turned upwards in a feral grin. "For now."