a/n: So this is just what I said... a "mixed bag" Trin POV chapter - I have to say, I'm not completely happy with it, though I do like the Trin/Knight moment at the end. I don't know. No amount of editing seems to save it. Anyhow, let me know what you all think - next chapter is much more fun, a Rorie/ Knight background chapter, giving us some context for their relationship. Enjoy - Syd

Chapter 20

Trinity didn't go back to bed that night. Instead, she did the dishes and made herself some tea, which she drank leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at her daughter's bedroom door, wondering about her. Or perhaps Trinity was wondering how she could have missed it, the change, the moment Rorie grew up, chose a career, and fell in love with her best friend. And she was deeply in love. Trinity could tell, because she knew the eyes well enough. They were Neo, those first few weeks together on the Neb, innocent, passionate, bewildered and strong. But mostly in love, shining with a veiled joy and hope that Trinity had come to adore as the secret part of him that belonged to her exclusively. And if Knight was anything like her, he was captivated with this mysterious sparkle without even knowing what it was, without even supposing it could be because of him.

Trinity should have seen it coming. Their friendship had always been close, as if they'd grown up together, rather than coming from completely different worlds, different realities, different centuries. "So, you're like a princess, eh?" Knight had asked Rorie not long after arriving in Zion. She didn't respond to this question well, probably taking it more as an accusation than anything else, having grown used to being teased for her celebrity. But Knight was unaffected by her defensive attitude. "I understand fame," he'd said. "You know, I won the junior dog sledding competition three years in a row. As a prize, I got free beaver tails at McKibbin's corner gas for a week. Needless to say, someone was very popular in the schoolyard. Just don't let it go to your head, that's all."

Trinity remembered she'd had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, mostly becuase she knew for a fact that Knight had never been dogsledding a day in his life. Of course, the joke was lost on Rorie, who had just stared at him, annoyed, or perplexed, and then looked at her mother as if to ask for a translation. But Knight won her over in short order, although how he'd done it Trinity will never know, having rarely seen a free-born child connect so strongly with a newly-liberated orphan. They spoke in two separate vocabularies, but explained themselves with remarkable sensitivity to the other's background, and soon Rorie knew as much about ice fishing as she did about geothermic energy, and spoke quite a bit of French, too. And to this day Knight knew more about Zionist history and culture than Trinity did, and more about salt crystals and sewer bugs than she imagined he wanted to. Neo had been secretly grateful to him, as he had been replaced as Rorie's preferred pupil, and no longer had to endure her lectures on the intricacies of insect biochemistry. "He actually seems interested," Neo had commented with a chuckle, watching Knight help their daughter catalogue yet another collection of fire flies. "God bless the little trouble maker for that."

In retrospect, Trinity wondered if it had all been an excuse to be close to Rorie, or maybe Knight just couldn't bear to disappoint her. Whatever the reason, Knight listened to her drone on for hours, often lightly making fun of her passion for the work, but never enough to dissuade her from continuing. And then he'd make her laugh. Trinity rarely heard the jokes (and sometimes had a sneaking suspicion that they were at her expense), but people two levels down could probably hear the laughter. No, Trinity should not be surprised that Rorie loved him, or that the Oracle would compare that love with her connection with Neo, because she could see now that they'd always needed each other in a way that nobody else could understand, and that was the point. That was the essence of true love, the devotion without apparent reason, the unquestioning approval of the other, without caring to analyze the wherefore. It just was, and that was enough. It had always been enough for them.

Trinity remembered how it used to be with her and Neo. Back when every day was the day before the apocalypse, and every night they died in each other's arms, exhausted and demolished by the struggle. They didn't talk of the future back then, they didn't think beyond the moment, because neither of them expected to live long enough for it to matter. It was an unspoken understanding. There wasn't enough time, and the only thing powerful enough to bring comfort was love, an intense, raw, joyous release of everything into the other. It was simple, and in spite of everything, she was happy. It was enough.

They had both changed a great deal since then. Rorie had changed them, the end of the war had changed them, marriage had changed them. It was a different kind of union, one which they both welcomed and wanted for their family, and built together with diligence and commitment. It was never boring or routine, as some people may think, and Trinity felt no less passion for him now than she did before, but the relationship was undeniably complicated. Even as he'd made love to her that night, both of them clinging to the other to weather the storm of the past few days, Trinity could tell Neo was never completely free of it; she couldn't pull him loose as she once had. Part of him remained beyond her reach.

He'd whispered Synergy's name in his sleep, a frown worrying his brow as he tossed and turned beside her. Synergy. It sounded like a prayer, like desperation, like yearning. And the name cut through Trinity as the memory of a dead colleague arrests the heart and constricts the soul. Something wasn't right, was all Trinity could think. None of it made sense to her. Synergy didn't make sense to her.

"She could be a trap set by the Machines to start a war. Give them an excuse to start digging."

"They lure us to Club Med and then attack it with a million Sentinels? Unlikely. Why go to the trouble?"

"She's The Seventh, then? Another Neo."

"Why haven't they killed her?"

"She's got them by the balls."

"She's got us by the balls, too. If she has that many Sentinels at her disposal, she could destroy this city in a heartbeat."

"Sentinels following the orders of a human. Like hell."

"We should try to pinpoint her position. She could be even more powerful if we get her out."

"Yeah, and she'd be less of a risk as well."

Trinity and Neo had listened to the conjecture for hours, neither of them offering much beyond the official report of what happened, cautious to keep their personal feelings remote from the scrutiny of a hugely bureaucratic government and military panel. They were united in their recommendation that they pursue more information before deciding on a strategy, and that was it, though Trinity knew that behind her husband's perfectly composed expression of professional objectivity, his mind and heart were racing.

"To control one's own movement in the Matrix is one thing," Morpheus had said pensively after Trinity briefed him in his office before the official inquiry began. "But to throw a man across a room without touching him… to arrest your body in midair... and you said Neo could hear her thoughts? It is unheard of, Trinity, especially of a mind that hasn't been disconnected from the System yet. I cannot begin to postulate what this could mean. It's completely unprecedented."

If only that were true, Trinity could go back to bed. But there was a gnawing sensation at the back of her mind, a memory that she couldn't ignore or rationalize away. The truth was she knew what it was to manipulate the code without contact, to push remote programs across the grid with ease, to speak to Neo without words, and to touch him without lifting a finger. Synergy couldn't have realized it, but her power was not unique, and Trinity knew it very well. But not because it was once hers. No, this brand of magic had belonged to Rorie.

She and Neo had never told the Council, or anyone else for that matter, knowing full well that to disclose this truth would just encourage speculation about the baby, and people had already gotten out of control. So they were content to keep it their secret, their little joy, a dusting of magic blessing their marriage and unborn child. In the privacy of their home training unit, Trinity would dazzle her bemused husband by balancing objects in space, lifting his feet from the ground, and whispering in his ear with a voice beyond sound, a holy echo from her body to his. She saw his code for the first time in three dimensions, in its entirety, a waterfall of golden lines shining against a dull green background.

"You're beautiful," she'd said, touching her hand to pure light, to soft flesh. "It's like I'm seeing you for the first time. I never really knew…"

And he'd kissed her, fingers lacing with hers over the round bump that was their Rorie, his other hand brushing gilded feathers though her hair. Trinity held him then, wrapping his body in a soft blanket of energy, caressing him with the intangible essence of their daughter that she felt constantly, and wanted to share. She wanted to give him some part of that gift. It was effortless, as if the baby wanted it, too, resonating towards Neo like a magnet, reaching towards him with invisible hands. Neo cried, and his tears fell on her face and on the baby, a baptism of love that bound the three of them together in the glow of a gift that lasted only a few months. For when Rorie was born it was gone and irrecoverable, a lost potential that neither parent mourned. Rorie was brought into the world completely free, with long black hair and perfect skin, without the metallic marks of the Machine which riddled her parent's bodies. Anything she could have done for the Resistance in the Matrix was irrelevant; she was wholly human, and this was the most liberating legacy of all.

But what Rorie had lost by birth into freedom, Synergy had preserved in bondage, and it was this inexplicable power that had Trinity's heart reeling. She remembered how Synergy had looked at Neo, resting her eyes on him, though him, around him, worshipping his code as Trinity had done long ago. The young woman had been mesmerized, and had found it difficult to look away, sneaking additional peeks whenever she could, sometimes openly staring. Trinity didn't have to wonder what she was looking at; she knew. She also knew that theirs was a mutual recognition, Neo had gazed back, without attempting to hide his interest, brown eyes open and alert, focused on nothing but Synergy, as if the universe had converged on her. As if the answers to every question he'd ever had rested behind those cold, impenetrable eyes. They were like two pieces of the same puzzle that didn't quite fit together, something was missing, leaving them both floundering, searching, unsatisfied.

Neo didn't know what to say. He had retreated within himself, leaving Trinity to wonder what he was feeling, what he'd seen in Synergy that was so captivating. A kindred spirit? Another lost soul like him who called out for rescue? A sister anomaly? Trinity couldn't be sure, but she suspected Neo felt a solidarity with their enigmatic new ally which went beyond what one would suspect from such a short first meeting. He wanted to believe her, to help her, and more than anything else, he wanted to get her out.

They would run a trace, but Trinity wasn't hopeful, and feared that in order to separate her from the Matrix, they would have to take on the entire Machine army. If the Source didn't sever her link first. Perhaps Smith was offering some help toward this end, having once infected the System and blocked administrative control commands to keep himself from being deleted, though Trinity didn't trust him a wit. Synergy had made her first mistake and it was very possible that he would be her last.

At half past five in the morning, there was a soft knock on the door that Trinity recognized.

When she saw him, Trinity could tell that Knight hadn't slept all night, either, because he looked about ready to collapse from fatigue. "Any room at the inn, good shepherdess?" he asked. "My roommate's party is still… uhm… a little loud."

She moved aside to let him though. "You can sleep for a few hours on the couch."

"The floor, the couch, in the bathtub… whatever," he chuckled, chucking off his boots and collapsing into his usual loveseat in the living room. It was not the first time Knight's roommate had driven him to her doorstep. At least, that was the excuse he often gave. 'His roommate.' But Trinity knew that most of the time, he wandered back to her when he wanted one of three things. Food, clean clothes, or advice. This time, she suspected it was the latter.

As if on cue, Knight threw an arm over his face. "Trin… give me another red pill. I need a reality check."

She returned from the closet with a blanket and a sheet, and expertly whipped the covers over him. "You're going to be alright, soldier."

He closed his eyes, and for a moment Trinity thought he'd fallen asleep, but then he mumbled, "I don't know. I think I've gone crazy. Like… all the way over the edge. You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

Trinity bent down to brushed curls from his forehead. "Go to sleep. I'll wake you for breakfast, hm?"

He opened his eyes, and they were tried, but alive, like a child's at bedtime. They reminded her of Rorie, when she was younger. "God, it's strange, Trin," he whispered. "Twenty two years old, and my entire life is in this apartment. Nothing else matters to me, you know? This is it. It's like… home to me."

"Might as well be," she said back. "The amount of time you crash in my living room. I'm going to start docking your pay for rent."

He chuckled at the empty threat which had become her customary 'good night,' and Trinity left one of the kitchen lights on for him, knowing he didn't like to sleep in complete darkness. The truth was she loved Knight like a son, and it was moments like these that she remembered why. In every way except the biological, he really was.

With both her kids home and safe, Trinity felt strangely fulfilled as she climbed back into bed with her husband, and his body automatically entwined with hers when he sensed her there, pulling her into a warm pocket against his chest. She slept well and without dreaming, waking instinctively at three minutes to nine so she could shut off the alarm before it woke Neo. She decided to let him sleep a little while longer, and drowsily wandered into the living room, freezing when she noticed Rorie was already up and dressed, hurriedly gathering her things.

"I'm sorry I can't stay," she was saying, though she hadn't noticed her mother. She was talking to Knight. "I have so much, uhm… to do, you know. And… well, you know."

Rorie wasn't looking at him as she stuttered, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. She seldom stuttered. Knight took a few steps towards her, but then stopped awkwardly. And he was seldom awkward. "Rorie," he began. "I'm sorry if I…"

"I'll see you, right?" she announced, cutting him off as she headed for the front door. "Later. Good luck today. Write me if you can. Uhm… so, bye."

And then she was gone, leaving Knight with a forlorn expression on his face. He cursed under his breath before he noticed Trinity was there. "Oh, g'morning Trin," he said, trying unsuccessfully to hide embarrassment. "Rorie… had to work."

"I heard. Are you staying?"

He ran a hand through his hair and looked around. "I don't know. I don't know anything anymore…" Then he seemed to realize who he was talking to. "I mean, yeah, of course. Thank you. Sorry, Trin."

So she started on breakfast, mixing flavour into some protein supplement and heating it on the stove. She made him some extra strong coffee. "Tar?" she said as she handed him the mug of black liquid.

"Merci."

"De rien."

They drank in silence for a long time before he sighed and said, "So, I was halfway to crazy last night and now I've arrived."

"Thank you for the update, ensign. I'll enter that in the ship's medical log."

"Thanks," He chuckled wryly. "You're good to me."

"Would you like some advice?"

He shrugged.

Trinity took a sip of coffee and then remembered to wake her husband. On her way out, she deadpanned over her shoulder, "Get a haircut."