a/n:

-Well, I'm in an amazingly good mood: Agent Bunny made my day with a dazzlingly romantic, colourful new installment of "Finding Purpose." Bravo! This chapter is dedicated to your, for your talent, and because you told me you like Trinity...

Chapter 4

Trinity heard her husband's emphatic curse as the doors slammed shut, leaving her alone in the confined space of the elevator, finger frantically pressing the 'Level 3-Loading Dock' button. A keen inertial force pressed down on her shoulders as the lift travelled up, and this grounding weight, compounded by months of built-up emotional and physical tension, somehow broke her will to stand. Within seconds, her body slumped to the floor and tears streamed down her cheeks. An uncontrollable wave of sobs ensued, and all Trinity could think to do was reach up and push the Emergency Stop.

Frozen halfway between a troubled marriage and a heartbroken daughter, Trinity felt trapped and claustrophobic. More than that, she felt alone. She knew now that she should have taken Ghost's advice, that he had been right when he told her to tell Neo the truth. That he deserved to know. His counsel was the same now as it had been when he first offered it all those years ago, just before she and Neo left for the Machine City. But it didn't seem to matter then; she didn't expect to live long enough for it to matter.

All that mattered was keeping Neo safe, for his sake, and for the salvation of Zion. Or, possibly for a more selfish reason? Perhaps she simply was not ready to let him go, and was prepared to lay down her life for an extra hour, thirty minutes, even twenty seconds in his arms. Trinity decided that the truth was probably an obscure, homogeneous mixture of such compartmentalized ideals. Indeed, even after countless hours of reliving that horrible day, bleary-eyed from sleepless nights of crying on Ghost's shoulder, scrutinizing, rationalizing, and philosophising, Trinity still couldn't elevate one motive above the others. And in the end, she didn't have to. The details of her wretched analysis could never change the conclusion. For Neo, for Zion, for herself… Trinity made up her mind to go with him, to die with him in the Machine City. Fundamentally, the only human life for which Trinity showed no concern was that of her unborn child. Neo's child. And in the end, that child's life was the only casualty of the mission.

Had Neo been faced with the same choice, Trinity was certain things would have been different. If he had known she was pregnant, he never would have allowed her to go with him. Twenty years ago, Trinity might have told herself that she was sparing Neo the anguish of knowing that they'd conceived a baby that he'd never hold in his arms, whose cries he'd never hear, whose love he'd never realize. But an older, less self-righteous version of herself suspected that she'd kept the truth from him in order to get her own way. The idea of raising his son or daughter without him was unthinkable, and so Trinity resolved that the fate of the baby must be tied to Neo's life.

To this day, the only person she'd ever told was Ghost. Less than an hour before leaving with her lover on a mission from which neither expected to return, Trinity felt she needed to tell someone; it was a necessary comfort to know that the baby would be remembered. So, with a mixture of joy and sorrow, Trinity confided in her closest friend, and she will never forget what his reaction had been. He touched her stomach and held her close, impossibly close, with a kind of elation and grief that told her that he already knew why she was telling him and not Neo. He already knew she wasn't coming back. When Trinity cried he kissed her eyes and forehead, and whispered, "God, Trin. I'm so happy. That's just wonderful." And then he kissed her again.

He did what Neo would have done. And he said what Neo would have said. Ghost never called her Trin before that day, and he'd never called her that since. Perhaps she'd misheard him, or maybe she just remembered it wrong. But something told Trinity that Ghost used that pet name purposefully to create the illusion that in that moment, he was not himself, but the man she so desperately wanted him to be.

If Trinity could do it all again, she would have told Neo, if only to relive that moment in his arms, to feel his breath on her forehead, his tears on her neck. Indeed, the guilt of having lost the baby was tangled with the shame of knowing she'd unjustly denied Neo the occasion to mourn the loss that was theirs to share. When they both came back form 01, resurrected, reborn, and irreparably scarred, Trinity didn't see the point of telling him. It seemed somehow selfish to give Neo such grief, only to clear her conscience, to confess her Great Sin… that their child was dead, and it was all her fault.

Trinity had never known anything like the agony of losing that baby. Great jubilation in Zion had heralded the end of the War, and endless celebrations honoured the city's returning heroes. But Trinity remembered nothing but a numb blur of stolen moments, desolation in the midst of revelry, apathy in the centre of parades that to her, were more like funeral processions. She felt empty, incapable of feeling anything but a hollow pain and despair, and an unshakable contempt for her own lack of substance. And, although she laboured tirelessly to put the loss behind her, for Neo's sake, for the sake of their happiness together, Trinity knew that she'd become a different person.

She wondered now if Neo had ever thought of leaving her. She wouldn't blame him if he had. They were not happy. Trinity knew that Neo had suffered his own private horror after the War ended, and it broke her heart to know that he had endured it alone. Perhaps, more than anything else, it was their mutual isolation that bound them together, Trinity thought. She remembered how they had devoured one another's bodies without joy, but rather with a common need, a shared desperation. So many times, after working nearly endless hours to rebuild the city's fleet and infrastructure, they did not go home, but remained at the Dock to have sex on the cold steel grating in the storage hangers. Sometimes they wouldn't even kiss.

Too many memories still lingered between their sheets of two people who no longer existed, fallen angels, sentinels of a love that had taught them what it was to be alive - what it was to feel. Returning to their shared home, to their bed, would have been somehow adulterous, an invasion of the sanctity that had once existed between them. She knew Neo felt it, too. Things had changed. They had changed.

When Trinity became pregnant with Rorie, they hadn't been living together for months. On the day she knew for sure, the day the doctors confirmed it (several times by her request), Trinity hadn't even spoken to Neo in several days, and an entire 36 sleepless hours passed before she could bring herself to tell him the news. She stood outside his door for a long time, exhausted, a pounding headache in her ears, just praying that he would be happy. That somehow, they'd find a way to be happy together.

It's going to be alright, Trinity. It has to be. It's Neo... it's Neo. It isn't too late. He loves you, Trinity. He still loves you. He has to.

As her hand reached up to knock at his door, Neo's voice startled her from behind. "Hey!"

She spun about, surprised to find him on the catwalk and not in his apartment. Trinity remembered that Neo had looked about ten years older than his true age that night. The rims of his eyes were red, and he hadn't shaved in a few days. Moreover, she could tell he'd been drinking. Recalling some rumours she'd heard about her estranged lover frequenting some of the more obscure, discreet bars on the Lower Levels on a nightly basis, she wondered if he drank alone.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Trinity's mouth opened but no sound came out. His question, which sounded more like an accusation, hit her like a slap in the face. Neo must have noticed her reaction to it, because he immediately softened his voice as he met her outside his door. "I mean, I'm just surprised to find you here. That's all. It's late."

"Then maybe I should go."

"Oh, come on. Don't be…" Neo stopped abruptly and sighed. His keys jingled in his hand. "Well, come in. If we're going to fight, we might as well do it inside."

He held the door open, but Trinity didn't move. She heard her voice speaking as if it were someone else's. It was shaky and raw with emotion that she was normally able to contain. "Is that why you think I came here tonight, Neo? To… fight with you?" Trinity didn't even realize she was crying until she tasted her own tears on her lips. Her vision blurred, and she felt an acute wave of nausea pass over her. "Oh… God."

Neo's voice seemed to come from a great distance. "No… I'm sorry. I didn't mean that seriously. Hey, what's the matter?"

"Neo…" Suddenly dizzy, she reached out for the railing on the catwalk for support but missed it. When she realized she was about to fall, Trinity called out his name again, this time with more urgency. "Neo…!"

She didn't remember his catching her as she collapsed, or that he carried her to the elevator and rushed her to the army med-bay. He called her name over and over as she lay limp in his arms, perspiration covering her ashen face.

That night would prove to be one of the longest he would ever know. As Neo sat by her bedside waiting for the prognosis, he cursed himself repeatedly. The image of Trinity crying just before her fall was driving him mad; his heart literally ached with self-reproach.

"Neo?" An older woman with short titian hair and a white lab-coat quickly walked up to him, offering her hand. Her shake was firm and her voice even. "My name is Xhanga Wray; Trinity's physician. I have good news. It looks like they're both going to be just fine."

Neo nodded, relieved. Then, "Both?"

"Trinity fainted, which isn't altogether unusual. She also has a fever, which we're getting down now. But she and the baby should be alright. We're giving her something to help her sleep." The doctor looked down at her computerized chart and poised her pen as if to write. "Tell me, has she been under any stress lately? I told her to take it easy from now on."

For an instant, Neo was dumbfounded. Then he went from thinking that there must be some mistake, to concluding that the far more likely explanation was that that Trinity was pregnant and hadn't told him. His chest constricted when he realized that she'd probably come to his apartment that night with the intention of giving him the news.

"Oh my God."

"Sir?" Dr. Wray quickly pulled up a chair and guided Neo to it. "You look sick. Are you alright?" She crouched down to put a hand on his forehead.

"Oh my God," Neo repeated, going from looking devastated to stifling an involuntary chuckle, to covering his eyes to hide tears. "I can't believe it."

The doctor squeezed his hand. "It's alright. She gave us a bit of a scare. But the baby's fine. You can sit with her until she wakes up."

For six hours Neo waited by Trinity's bedside, going through every imaginable emotion, analyzing the situation from every possible angle. This pregnancy was nothing short of miraculous. Trinity had been told in no uncertain terms after their return from 01 that to have children was practically impossible. And how ironic that such a blessing should happen now. Neo considered that in many ways, they were unworthy of such a miracle. If the ghosts of their past selves could see what they had become, Neo knew that they'd be disgusted. They wouldn't even recognize themselves.

Ever since the war ended, he'd felt so empty, as if a piece of himself had died in the Machine City. He recognized it in Trinity as well. Their apparent Purpose fulfilled, what possible reason could there be for them to return to Zion? Yesterday, Neo couldn't imagine there was anything left for him to live for. But this news… this baby. It changed everything. It changed him.

He looked down at Trinity's porcelain features, pale and angelic as she lay sleeping in the hospital bed. If she'd only take me back, he thought. If she could only love me again… just give me a second chance… I'd find a way to make her happy…

Suddenly, Trinity's eyes flickered open. Her fingers moved in his hand. "Neo?"

He brushed some hair back from her forehead. He tried to find words, but none would come.

"Where am I?"

"You're at the med bay," Neo said, finally managing a coherent thought. "You fainted. Remember? Outside my place…"

Trinity suddenly gasped, her eyes snapped opened completely and she sprung into a sitting position. Her hand instinctively flew to her stomach. "I have to see a doctor."

"It's okay."

Panic-stricken, she shook her head. "No, you don't understand. I need-"

"The baby is fine."

Trinity could only stare at him. Relief and surprise and confusion. She began to cry.

"Trin," Neo whispered, "It's okay. You're okay…" His voice broke. "Our baby is okay."

She blinked back her emotion, apparently pulling her thoughts together. "Xhanga told you."

He nodded.

"Neo, I was about to-"

"I know." He touched her face, gently using his thumb to wipe tears from her eyes. "I know. Trin… I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." His bowed his head down between his shoulders, surrendering everything, conceding everything to her.

Trinity's fingers ran through his hair. "No. Look at me."

He met her eyes, still mumbling tearful apologies.

"Shhh. No." She shook her head. "Don't tell me you're sorry." She pulled him closer and inched herself towards the edge of the bed until her arms were completely around him, his head on her shoulder. "Oh Neo, don't tell me you're sorry."

He held her tight, feeling the once familiar pressure of her breasts against his chest, the heat from her body saturating him like no other woman's ever could. "I miss you, Trin. I miss you so much."

"God, I know."

Neo kissed each of her eyelids, then her nose and cheeks. Trinity took his hand and guided it to her stomach as she whispered, "Just tell me that you're happy."

"I'm happy." Their lips connected for what seemed to be the first time in years as the long-separated lovers clung to each other, both painfully aware of the fragility of their bliss. It was to be the beginning of what each of them would consider the second great romance of their lives. In many ways, it would prove to eclipse the first.

There was never any doubt in Trinity's mind that Aurora had saved them. Had saved her. As far as she was concerned, the baby was nothing less than spiritual absolution, a divine mercy, exculpating past Sin and blessing a new life. Indeed, it was only when she first looked into her daughter's eyes that she was able to finally let go of the child she'd lost only two years before.

How could Trinity have known that now, a generation later, this ghost would come back to haunt her? An unhappy spirit, buried in the past without sound, without ceremony, without a father – was this hell fitting enough revenge? Is this some sort of cosmic justice? Trinity wondered as she sat suspended over fifty levels up in the stationary elevator. What more could the Universe possibly want from me?

The recurring nightmare plagued her sleep, tormenting her every time she allowed herself a moment's rest. She was back on the Logos, in the Machine City, only moments before The End. At first, everything was exactly as she remembered it, the smell the sulphur in the air, the hard metal grating on her back, the taste her own blood in her mouth. But then, as Trinity's heart thudded irregularly in her chest and the horrible cold spread throughout her body, something happened that was far more devastating than the black abyss that had ripped her from her lover's arms that day. What she felt instead was a sensation as wonderful and unmistakable as Neo's lips on her skin, or the hum of the Neb's controls at her fingertips.

It began with butterfly wings: the same tiny flutter that had caught her by surprise one morning, nearly five months into her pregnancy. This was nothing more than a whisper, a private 'hello' from child to mother, almost imperceptible in its subtlety. But these gentle palpitations were fleeting; they quickly became a much more defined series of shifts and thumps below her ribcage, which in turn developed into the characteristic kicks and tumbles that were so uniquely, perfectly, unequivocally Rorie. As Trinity lay pinned to the Logos' cockpit floor, the intricate choreography of her daughter's most intimate communications to her played out like a slideshow of stolen moments, detailed snapshots of her most cherished memories.

There was nothing Trinity could do to prevent it, to stop the sequence of events from reaching the ending she knew was inevitable. She couldn't move, or scream, or even cry. As if by telepathy, Trinity sensed Rorie's panic. The jerks were painful, erratic, desperate. Neo's grief-stricken voice echoed off the hull of the mangled ship:

"Oh, God, Trin. What have you done? Why, oh… why did you bring her here?"

It was impossible for Trinity to believe that it was, in fact, only a dream. The experience was too intense, the colours too vivid, the sensations too haunting for them to be merely inventions of the subconscious, manifestations of a mother's guilt and insecurity. No, Trinity decided, it was more than that. It was a premonition of some kind, a warning or Prophecy of what was to come. Something… or someone was sending her a message.

To explain the full significance of this nightmare to her husband would be to tell him everything, to tell him a secret that she thought she'd escaped a long time ago. It was an artefact of the lives they'd buried in order to rebuild upon the ruins. Knowing would only hurt him; Trinity knew that. And what possible good would it do Neo to know? This was her burden, not his.

Trinity thought of something the Oracle had told her, back when Rorie was only a child. Words that were so benign then, but in the present context, took on a much more sinister meaning.

It can't be a coincidence. That woman knew something. She knew this was going to happen.

"This is Control to Elevator 3-1. We have you frozen on the way to Loading Dock Ground Level. Do you require assistance?"

Startled by the loud, abrupt voice coming from the emergency intercom, Trinity stammered to her feet. She took a deep breath before answering with the smooth, calm voice she always managed to command when she needed it most.

"That's a negative, Mr. Conrad." She forced a touch of light-heartedness into her tone. "I was just taking my twenty-minutes' vacation for this year."

There were static-broken chuckles from several members of the Control crew. "Ah, that must be Captain Trinity. Honoured to have you aboard, ma'am. Would you like to extend that leave of absence, or should we send you on your way to the Dock?"

She hesitated for only an instant before she pressed the button marked 'level-103' and raised her security-pass to the detector. "Neither, thank you. I'm heading home for the night."

As the elevator jerked back into motion, Trinity's eyes hardened with resolve.

This time she is going to give me real answers, she decided. And this is going to end, one way or another.