The Last Exile
Chapter Twenty, Part 2 of 2

1010101

Logos, circa 2199

GHOST HASN'T SEEN HER in months. He hasn't spoken to her in longer. And now here she is, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, the center of his life again. All it took was a moment. All it took was her voice, unmistakable in the emergency broadcast over the radio - This the Nebuchadnezzar, requesting immediate assistance from any ship in range. I repeat, we need help, bearing one-oh mark three one. Two-way contact is down. Sensors down. EMP down. Six pads…(a barely audible sigh)… down.

Trinity is resting now, her condition finally stable, so he moved her to a spare cabin – tucked her into bed. Purple pintips of frostbite speckle her cheekbones, and there was a time early in the afternoon when she drifted in and out of sleep, shivering uncontrollably. She asked for Neo then, who was already up and had been forced from her side to help revive the Neb. But Niobe was only too glad to get rid of him.

The space cadet, is her kind-hearted nickname for the man who deleted an agent and saved Morpheus' life – and has set them back at least few hours with his mechanical incompetence. Though it must cost Niobe to admit it, they need Trinity back, as much because of her engineering prowess as for the sake of her babysitting services. "I don't care what Morpheus says," whispered the captain as Neo held up a sheet of upside-down schematics and studied them intensely. "This guy is going to drive her nuts."

But she didn't see the look on Trinity's face when he rushed into the med bay, covered with grease and scrapes and a few burns from his demotion to Niobe's coffee boy. She smiled though chattering teeth, and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. "You don't look so good," she observed weakly. "What the hell happened to you, Neo? … Bad day?"

And he laughed, which made her laugh. Their intimacy was effortless as he held her close, flowing into a kiss before Ghost had even a moment to take a breath. No. He wasn't prepared for it. He wasn't expecting it. He'd never seen her kiss another man before. She doesn't kiss in public. She doesn't smile like that. She doesn't… - and Ghost felt a rip down the center of his chest as he watched their fingers entwine – she didn't even realize he was still in the room.

Nor does she know it now, as he sits at attention in the gloomy corner of her cabin, gargoyle-like and placid. He shouldn't be here; he isn't helping. He doesn't even know what he is waiting for. If she wakes up, he doesn't know what he'd say. But by the time the full futility of his presence dawns on him, he finds himself unable to leave. Someone is standing at the door.

Neo seems to be debating about weather or not to step in, and it is clear that he hasn't noticed the other man's quiet presence. Ghost considers that he should make himself known, but for him to rise now and hurry away would seem to indicate he has been caught at something sinister or unwholesome. He feels no guilt, and shall display none. So he waits patiently, taking the opportunity to watch, study… evaluate. This is a careful person, a shy person as he takes a few timid steps forward, checking the corridor behind him. Perhaps he was sent by Niobe on another trivial errand designed to keep him from afflicting more important things, and he doesn't realize that the longer he is away, the more pleased she will be. Or perhaps, Ghost muses (much more charitably), Neo has been missing his only friend, and would simply prefer some privacy. He is tired of everyone looking at him and wondering about his relationship with the Neb's first mate. He feels lost without her, and only wants some reassurance, some counsel, some company. But she's sleeping, and now he isn't sure what to do – he's disappointed, but considers the next best thing, to just sit in the room for a few stolen minutes, though he isn't sure if it would be appropriate.

There is something tranquil and concentrated in Neo's manner that reminds Ghost of Trinity. He has noticed it all day. Save the numerous questions he had about the power-up, Neo didn't talk much – and it isn't as if Sparks didn't try to engage him in conversation, mostly about the "utter insanity of that bullet-stopping shit. What the hell did you add to your goop this morning?"

Neo answered without looking up from his task, "A spoon." Then, he seemed to give it more thought, which brought a strange sort of grin to his face. It stayed there for some time, and Ghost was certain he was thinking of Trinity– Neo has the same smile on his face now, keeping his eyes invariably on her. It flickers away at the echoing sound of voices, Niobe's and Sparks' speaking tersely a few rooms over, which prompts him to slip inside and close the door behind him. So he is hiding. And now, the room is completely black.

Seconds of dark and quiet saunter by, and Ghost realizes that the correct time for him to make his presence known has come and gone. To speak now would be… creepy. He suppresses a sigh, shaking his head as he hears Neo's feet drag in baby steps across the floor. What is he doing? Ghost wills him to stay put, dreading the possible outcome of being groped in the dark by Trinity's lover. Go away. Go away. Stay over there… Is he looking for a lamp? Is he climbing into bed with her?

A sudden clatter – metal on metal loudly crashing to the floor – rings out as Neo curses. Ghost catches his breath, listening with disdain as footsteps stumble around, thumping back to the door. Rusty hinges scream cruelly as he yanks, letting sterile whiteness from the hallway into the cabin. The three of them strain against the sudden glare.

Trinity is sitting up in confusion, her cropped hair tousled, blankets thrown off in a frenzy. She blinks from one man to the other, placing herself, scowling as the situation comes into focus. Neo looks no less than mortified, his mouth hanging open as he stares in disbelief at Ghost, who has leapt to his feet - wishing he had the supernatural powers of his namesake, so that he could waft unseen through the wall.

"What's going on?" Trinity asks the obvious question with a hint of irritation – from what Ghost can tell – directed at them both.

"I was…" Neo manages, visibly upset, though it is unclear if it's embarrassment, shock, or anger which is clouding his thoughts. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. Everything's fine. I was just… I was checking on you."

"Well, I…" She seems at a loss. "I'm… okay, I guess."

Neo nods gravely. "Well… okay. Good."

"And you?" she returns the question abruptly. "The two of you," she specifies. "How are you?"

"Fine."

"Fine." Ghost echoes, nearly suicidal. If Neo weren't blocking his way, he'd run.

"Great," she says, forcing a smile that fades as soon as the syllables out of her mouth. As an afterthought, she brings the covers over her chest and crosses her arms tightly.

"You cold?" Neo ventures.

"What? No, I'm fine."

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

"Because I can get you more-"

"I'm fine."

"Oh. Kay."

"Thank you, though. For… offering."

"Oh, no it's no… I have too many, anyhow."

"How are the repairs going?" She addresses this question to nobody in particular, though the only one qualified to answer it is Ghost. It is her way of bringing him into the conversation, a subtle social maneuver which Neo misses completely.

"Oh, it's going good," he says with exaggerated nonchalance. "Uhm… there was some sort of… glitch in the… with the uhm… you know… the coil things… what're they called. Damn it… it doesn't really matter. We can fix it…" He trails off and then adds, "Well, they can fix it."

Ghost catches Trinity's lip twitch. "Thank you, Neo. That's very reassuring to hear."

"Positronic polarity was out of phase by half a cycle," Ghost translates, finding welcome neutrality in shop-talk. "It's hard to correct with so many of your pads down."

"Balance the delta-psi by deactivating the damaged coils. She'll fly fine without them."

"We're going to try that, once she's fully changed. If it works, we'll be in Zion by tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh? Good. Very good. That's… damn good time."

"Yes." Their eyes lock, and the full awkwardness of the situation seems to hit them both at once. It has been much too long since they've spoken. "It is. Very good time."

"You'll tell me if you need anything."

"It's all under control."

This seems to disappoint her. "Right. Thanks, Ghost."

He takes this chance to excuse himself, leaving her a progress report to survey at her leisure – a professional courtesy that was Niobe's idea. Eager for the refuge of the corridor, he brushes past Neo with a polite nod – which isn't returned, though there seems less hostility in his attitude than tired relief.

As he walks towards the core and hears the door being closed behind him, he forces himself not to look back. He doesn't want to think about it. He has come so far not to think about it.

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Trinity stares up into the darkness, acutely aware that she is not in her own cabin. She'd prefer to sleep on the Neb, but of course it's freezing over there, and she's still prone to bouts of shivering. She is cold right now, even with the extra blankets that Neo carried over, having ignored her curt but polite decline. But, of course, it had nothing to do with the blankets.

They kissed for some time. The privacy of a (locked) bedroom was new, and seemed to inspire slower, deeper loving. Wet, smooth lips slid on skin, pressed against tongue, and skirted over teeth. He touched her breast, just the side, and a little underneath, tracing the outline with his first two fingers, trailing with his thumb. He didn't dare go any furthur, which both frustrated and goaded her into biting him, not quite gently, on the lower lip. The climax of their tryst. He grunted, kissed back hard and broke it abruptly. "I'll be thinking of you." He grinned against her cheek and added, "In my dreams, I make love to you all day long."

Her jaw dropped in shock, and before she could think of an appropriate response (even now, all she can think of is, me too), he pushed himself up and strode through the blackness to his cabin. She heard him move in the adjacent room. Walking. Pacing a little. Sitting. Pacing some more. Then, the running and splashing of water. Cold water? She smiled, and pressed her palm to the wall. Me, too.

But now he is quiet, apparently sleeping, or sitting awake, thinking of her as he promised he would. The possibility thrills her, tightens her, prevents her muscles from fully relaxing against the mattress. She closes her eyes, and toys with the impulse before giving into it, tentatively, flirtatiously caressing her fingers over the places Neo had left wanting, untouched. She circles, teases, imagining it's him, and wonders if he might be doing something similar at that very moment, lying in his bed, imagining it's her. She wonders if it would be the first time.

How had it come about so intensely, this advanced stage of fetishizing over the love object? Trinity knows herself; her imagination is boundless, and she has been holding back for weeks. She held back after catching Neo's scent on his clothing and between his sheets as she made his bed. After sitting next to him in the mess hall, feeling his body heat resonate onto her bare arm. After watching him sleep. But she wouldn't give in to this kind of fantasy, not this far, not so deep. She has been this deep before, only once, and it brought her to near ruin. She is capable of obsession. She is capable of reckless, blind, unconditional love, and it frightens her. Ten years have passed since Daniel, and now she realizes it is still part of her nature, still a weakness - the space that he left is still hungry, and very much alive.

At the tip of ecstasy, her toes curl, her stomach sinks, and the backs of her eyes sting. Seemingly without conscious will, she catches herself, stopping at the most awkward moment. The orgasm, which had barely begun, is ruined. She can go no further. "Shit."

She doesn't know why she's crying. Perhaps she has too many reasons, all tangled together, like mangled metal… like clothes-hangers, bicycle frames, and chicken-wire strewn across her thoughts. She eases herself up, joints sore, her small but deep wound tender to movement. The air is cool on her damp skin, and she fights off a wave of dizziness before she rises. Trinity doesn't hesitate before walking the length of the alien cabin, tugging the door ajar, and slipping into the corridor, her footsteps silent in socked feet. When she arrives at his door her heart skips a beat and her eyes are still bleary with a mixture of sleep and passion. She rubs them, but reasons that it's dark; he won't see how terrible she looks. And so, with an exhausted exhale, and a sudden rush of uncertainty, she knocks and calls his name.

"Ghost?" She barley cracks the door open widely enough to squeeze the sound through. "…are you awake?"

There is silence, and for a moment, Trinity assumes that he is either asleep, or ignoring her. She turns away.

"I'm here." His eyes are barely visible in the light as he sits up. "You shouldn't be awake."

"I'm fine. I'm… tired of lying down. Can I come in?"

Again, she senses hesitation. "Of course."

"If you're tired-"

"Come in."

Satisfied, she slips past the door, hardly moving it, and drifts through the cool black sea of his room until she arrives at the foot of his bed. She sits to face him, drawing her legs up to her chest. Like so many times before, years ago. "Hey."

"Hey," he echoes, wishing he could see her face. But if he turns on the light it will ruin the strange intimacy she's initiated. He didn't ask for it. He won't destroy it. He waits.

"I'm sorry about before. You caught me off-guard. I didn't know what to say with Neo there."

"You don't have to say anything."

"No, I do." She reaches out and carefully touches his arm. He must react, though he doesn't intend to, and she pulls away instantly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this."

"No, stay. You just… you caught me off-guard."

"We've been like this for so long… I just wish… I wish. Because it could have been one of us, Ghost. He could have killed me as quickly as he killed the others. Or it could have been you. Do you understand me?"

They'd never actually fought; there was no climactic moment punctuating the end of their closeness. He'd just left. When Niobe finally took command of her own vessel, he saw the opportunity for escape and he took it; his visit to the Oracle confirmed that his decision was the correct one. He bore no ill-will, only pain he needed to let dissolve over time, on another ship with a familiar captain. It was Trinity who was angry. Betrayed, she'd said. She stood by him when it mattered. Why would he leave her now, alone with Morpheus, who was systemically alienating himself from everyone? They were a team. Even then, she considered him her only real friend. But you'll make new ones, he'd said. You'll be alright. You got a promotion. So did I.

And over time (and probably with some difficulty), she did make new friends, all of whom are lying frozen in the Logos' cargo hold. "I'm sorry," Ghost whispers, and he realizes that it is the first time he has said it to her. Even after he left, he never actually apologized. The old debate of whether or not she was owed one is irrelevant, when there is so much more to be sorry about now. "I'm so sorry, Trinity."

There is no climactic reunion to mark the transition. They talk softly for a long time, during which Trinity provides the details of that miraculous day. She tells him about Cypher, and how she'd gone back with Neo to rescue Morpheus, and that it was his idea to go back; all of it was Neo's idea. She tells the story in poignant fragments, perhaps needing to hear herself say it – Switch just looked at me… there was nothing I could do - she needs someone to listen. Though he isn't sure, Ghost suspects at several pauses that she is wiping tears, but she keeps her distance in the dark. He comments when it's necessary, then tells her how he heard her distress signal while monitoring the low-bands, and how they searched for hours before finding the Neb. They discuss some of the procedures for correcting the out-of-phase plasma flow.

"And Neo?" she asks vaguely. When he doesn't answer, she lightens her tone, "You're not letting him near my ship, are you?"

He chuckles tactfully. "Niobe is whipping him into shape."

"Oh, no." It is her turn to pretend to laugh. "I was hoping you'd look out for him. Actually, you're one of the people I hope he has a chance to get to know. You'd like him…"

There is a drifting, open-endedness to this statement that turns it into a question. She wants to know what he thinks of Neo. She'd done the same thing a decade ago with a man Ghost truly detested for myriad reasons, not all of them self-serving. He replied honestly that he didn't know Daniel well enough to judge. The same neutral reply would do well here.

"I like him," Ghost answers right away. Rather than sorrow or loss or bitterness, he feels a strange freedom come with giving his blessing. The truth is, he does like the man who loves her so openly and unapologetically. He likes the man who looks at her as if she were the world, and doesn't give an damn who sees it. "But why do you ask?"

"I didn't ask."

"Oh?"

"I don't know. I'm just… I'm tried, that's all." She sighs and leans back against the wall. A breathy, incredulous laugh escapes when she speaks. "I don't even know what happened, really. All of a sudden… I guess I'm a little gun-shy. It's been awhile."

"Gun-shy?"

"Figure of speech."

"I like him, Trinity." The slight emphasis on the second word seems to give her whatever it is she is looking for. She lets the statement hang, as if expecting him to elaborate, which he doesn't.

"You know, the Oracle told me this would happen," she says. "She told me, that the man I loved would be The One."

"You believe in the Prophecy, then?"

Her answer is quick and elusive. "I believe in Neo."

"It is difficult not to, after what he has already done. But here, he seems… unsure."

"It'll come. He needs time to find his place. Losing the crew has been hard on him, I think."

"I'm sure it's been harder on you."

Trinity has no answer to this, except to pull a blanket up over her legs and shift closer to him. She rests her head on his shoulder. He covers it with his hand. "While we were on the surface, Morpheus and I were playing a game," she told him. "I was to ask three questions, and he'd have to answer. You now what my last one was?"

"No."

"I asked him about the night we were unplugged. Why he took two of us on the same night… why he'd take such an unnecessary risk. It has never made much sense, has it Ghost?"

He lets out a sigh. "And what did he tell you?"

"He told me the truth. He told me everything." Ghost can't tell from the tone of her voice whether or not she is upset. But then he feels her smile against his shoulder. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Would you have really wanted to know?"

"That my best friend lied to me, went behind my back, and then bluepilled Morpheus? You fucking bluepilled Morpheus? You son of a bitch! All this time, you let me believe that I was the cool sibling."

"I did it for you."

"I know. I owe you my life- I owe you everything, it seems."

"You don't owe me anything. We were a team."

"We were. We were a damn good team."

"Morpheus was wrong to tell you."

"Don't be upset with him, he was suffering from acute hypothermia. He was so delusional, he even told me his pseudonym. Now he can't even look me in the eye. I almost wish I didn't know."

"Care to unburden yourself, Trinity?"

"Oh, you know… I'm really not supposed to. Now that it seems I'm the good one."

"Curse my negative influence."

"It's terrible, how you drag these things out of me. I feel so manipulated." She leans over to whisper in his ear. Her breath tickles, and he can't resist the simple joy of putting his arm around her shoulders, as she explains how the fleet captain's mother was one of many Southern fanatics of the 1939 film Gone With the Wind, so much so she named her son after one of the handsome male protagonists.

"Rhett?" he asks her incredulously, and she shakes her head and bites her lip.

"No. The other one."

His jaw drops, and she nods. Yes. That's right. He needs to hear her say it, to confirm it. She rises from the bed and laughs, and suddenly they are back on the Neb, ten years earlier. He lets himself laugh with her. "Ashley!" he finally blurts out.

"Shhh!" she giggles. "You'll get us both in trouble."

"Come back here." Ghost stands and reaches out to her, pulling Trinity in to hug her carefully. Ever eager to show how tough she is, she pulls him close, squeezing as tightly as she can, mindless of the stitches.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," she says. "I love you, Ghost."

He plants a kiss in her hair, and holds her for as long as he dares. "Be good to him," he whispers. "Even though he doesn't deserve you."

"Of course not," she chuckles, and nods as if in complete agreement, but he can tell it's an act. She considers herself lucky, and the truth is he hopes she is right- he hopes she is lucky.

In fact, once she leaves him in the stillness of his cabin, Ghost finds that it is the only thing that could possibly give him comfort. To know that Neo loves her as much as he does.

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a/n: This is an update that took awhile to post, I'm sorry about that... the next few chapters will be posted quickly. I took some chances in this chapter - first, by revealing my theory for poor Morpheus' digital pseudonym (I originally was going to let you all fill in the blank for yourselves, but I couldn't resist throwing my own two cents out there!). Secondly, by hinting at the Ghost/Trinity background story that I am working on - concerning the story of their twin brith. It won't be dealt with right away, but when it is, the end of this chapter will make more sense. I guess it's a bit of a teaser. Ghost the bluepill...

Reviews welcome! - Syd