The shock was so total that he didn't respond at once, just stood, rigid, unable to believe it was happening at all. Then the misery lifted for the first time in months as he felt her mouth move on his own, her fingers clasped possessively at the back of his neck. He put his arms around her and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss; she melted into him in response, just as she'd always done. It was how they'd always reunited after painful separations, comforted one another, restored the other to full equilibrium. They'd always been able to communicate anything, in this secret language they'd long ago made their own. Nothing had changed. She was his. She'd always been his, and in that moment, he knew it.

When they finally, reluctantly, pulled apart, she held his face in her hands and stared at him. "I don't remember you," she said, frustrated. "But I know you. I know you completely."

"Trinity..." he ran his fingers through her hair. The scent was the same; even in this place, even after everything, she still smelled of herself. He kissed her again, a kiss so achingly familiar it was almost too much to bear. Then he rested his forehead against her own, his fingers still entwined in silky black strands, and breathed her in.

"My memories," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "They're not real, are they?"

"No. They're not."

She exhaled. "God. I knew it. I thought I was going crazy."

"I'm sorry..."

"No." She put a finger to his lips - the old Trinity; calm, strong. "I'm not afraid anymore. I know it's the world that's wrong, not me." She smiled a little. "Though that sounds crazy, too."

"It doesn't sound crazy at all."

There was a silence for a few moments, and then she said, "I was in love with you, wasn't I."

He closed his eyes. "Yes."

"And you me?"

"Yes. God, yes."

He felt her hand brush his cheek. It made him shiver.

"We never broke up, did we?"

He shook his head, mute.

"When I had the accident. We were still together?"

He nodded, and she sighed. "Okay."

"I should explain," he said helplessly. "Why I never told you. Why I avoided you. But it's going to sound insane - I don't know where to start."

She was quiet for a moment, and then she said, "It's alright. I can wait. Just... don't disappear on me."

"No."

There was silence then for several minutes, and he lost himself in her breathing, in her scent, in the feel of her in his arms.

"Do you still?" she said eventually, so softly, he could hardly hear the words. "Even after everything?"

"You already know that."

"I think so. But I need to hear you say it."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "I love you. I've always loved you. Nothing could ever change that."

She kissed him, then sighed. "I have to get back to work," she said. "God, I hate that place. Look, is it... can I come over, after?"

He reached into his pocket for his keys and pressed them into her fingers. "Here. They're yours." She looked up at him and smiled, a warm, intimate smile, straight into his eyes. The one she never gave anyone else. Then it faded, and she bit her lip.

"Zach..." she said with difficulty, her eyes miserable. "We should probably talk about it."

He didn't want to remember that. Ever, if he had the choice. "It doesn't matter," he said at once.

"I think it does. Unfortunately."

"Forget it. I will."

"Neo..." she began, but he cut her off.

"No. Please, just no." He kissed her again, and then buried his face in her neck, his arms tightly around her. "I don't care," he said, his voice muffled. "I just... I've missed you so much. I've needed you so much. And you're here. It's enough. God, Trin, it's everything."

The program sent to collect him had been irritated when he explained he couldn't come. That things had changed. "I had specific orders."

"I know. I'm sorry. But the parameters have altered since then. I can't leave."

"What message should I take? They will require an explanation."

"That... that she needs me here. She's starting to remember. And I need to know how safe that will be for her. Can you ask them to let me know? Please?"

The program, an attractive brunette, sighed. "I hope that makes more sense to them that it does to me."

"Me too."

She looked at him more carefully then; read his code. Her eyes widened. "You are the One. The Anomaly."

"Yeah. That's me."

"So she must be... when you say she, you mean Trinity?"

"That's right."

She nodded then. "Very well. I understand now. Forgive me - I was not aware of your identity. I believed you to be human."

"I am human."

"Well yes, but an unusual human. They are capricious. It is innate to them. You are not. And in this instance, you are exhibiting loyalty to the woman, not indecision. Correct?"

He smiled slightly. "You're not programmed to spend much time with humans, are you?"

"No," she agreed. "And I find them confusing, to be frank. However. This is besides the point. You wish to remain because Trinity is recovering her memory, and she now relies upon your presence. And you wish to know when she will be able to depart herself. And whether recovering her memories may be harmful to the speed of her recovery. Is that correct?"

"That's it."

She nodded. "I shall convey that."

"Thank you."

She nodded once more. "You are welcome. And it is we who must thank you. You ended this war, for us all. You saved both worlds. We do not forget. We," there was a glimmer of a smile, "are not capricious."

He slept after that, well and soundly, the first time he'd had unbroken sleep since Trinity had started at work.

He was woken by her arms around his shoulders, her voice whispering his name. He rolled over and pulled her against him as they kissed. "Hey," he said, smiling up at her through sleep-blurred eyes.

"I quit."

"Hmm?" He was confused. "You quit what?"

"Work. I quit. Figured we could use some time, given everything. That that was the priority right now."

He stared at her for a moment, then pulled her to him and hugged her close. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you so much."

They ate Chinese takeout that night, before watching a movie on cable, curled up in his bed. Trinity had undressed without hesitation or embarrassment, as though sharing his bed, his life, had never been interrupted at all. She wanted to make love, he knew. He hated that he couldn't explain why he didn't. But no explanation he could offer would make any sense to her, not yet. All he could do was gently pull away, kiss her as reassurance, try to indicate wordlessly that the rejection was not what it seemed.

But Trinity's guilt was too great for reassurance to be possible.

"I'm so sorry," she said, biting her lip. "I wish - I just wish, you know?"

"It's not that," he said at once. "I swear to you, Trin, it isn't. I want to - I want you. Jesus, you have no idea how much. It's just - not here. Not yet."

She was still for a few minutes, while he tried in vain to think of some explanation she could understand. One that didn't entail the Matrix, and a potential audience - both human and program. But she broke the silence before he did.

"Tell me a memory," she said.

"What?"

"A memory. A good one. From before."

He thought for a moment, his mind suddenly blank. So many of their memories were impossibly complicated, an indissoluble blend of joy and heartbreak, tied up with a world she knew nothing about; a war he couldn't even begin to describe. The simple, the unambiguously happy were luxuries they'd so rarely been afforded. How to select a memory that could be self-contained, could convey the love and the joy without the rest?

And then he remembered.

"We'd been busy," he said, stroking her hair. "Work. Too much to do, not enough sleep, other people there most of the time. No chance to be... well. Close. Not for days and days. We had an hour or two free, maybe, before we had to go to a gathering."

"A what?"

"Party. Kind of."

She nodded, thoughtful. "And?"

"We just wanted to get home. Be together. But I got waylaid by some people. They had... oh, questions. Requests. And you told me to stay with them; said they needed me. I said, I needed you. And then you said..." he smiled, remembering it. "You said, you knew. But there was time. There'd be time for us." He started playing with her fingers. "Then I met you later, at the gathering, and you'd gotten changed, and God, you were beautiful. I wish I'd said as much. I never told you. In all the time we were together, I just never did. I wish I had. And it was like when we first met - we met in a club, you see." She raised an eyebrow then, skeptical. "Yeah. I know. Long story. Just... trust me. But it was like being back there - I saw you, and I couldn't breathe. Always feels like that when I see you, like you're happening to me for the first time. And we went back to our place, and..." his voice trailed away. He'd never been fluent about this stuff, even before.

"We made love?" she said simply.

He smiled, amused by her ease on the subject. "Yeah." Then the smile faded, as he remembered his panic, her reassurance. But after all, hadn't she been right? She was still here. He hadn't lost her, in the end.

"What?" she said.

"Hmm?"

"There's something else. You're remembering something else, aren't you."

"Yeah."

"Tell me?"

He was silent for a moment, and then he said, "I'd been having dreams for a while by then. That you were going to die. And you knew something was wrong. I told you..." He swallowed, eyes dark with the memory. "I said that I couldn't lose you."

"What did I say?"

"You said I wasn't going to. That you wouldn't let it happen. Words to that effect."

"I did, though." She sighed. "I'm sorry."

"No," he said. "You didn't. Here we are."

"Yeah. Here we are." She thought for a moment, and then asked, "When was this? I mean, how long ago?"

"Couple or so nights before you were hurt."

"So what, four months ago?"

"Something like that."

She was silent, her hand in his, and then she said, "We'll make more memories?"

"Yeah. We will."

"Because I don't think I'll get the old ones back."

"You will," he said, surprised. "And soon, I think."

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I've had so many dreams about you, but they're all symbolic. Not one was real. It's like I can't see the past - the real past - at all. The feelings between us were genuine, I knew that. But the rest's just... impossible. There's a total block on how we lived. What we did, when we were together. And I can't see that changing anytime soon. It's been too consistent. Crazy - but consistent."

"How, crazy?" he asked. "I mean, in what sense?"

"In every sense," she said, her tone grim. "There's a reason I thought I was losing it."

"Why? What happened?"

She shrugged. "Oh, you know what dreams are like."

"So what made you think they were impossible?"

She eyed him for a moment. "Well, we lived on a submarine, in a lot of them. Hung out in caves, in others. Fought bad guys with kung-fu and handguns. Had some serious car chases." She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and Neo? One more thing."

"What?"

"You can fly," she said gravely.