Okay, this chapter is probably more of a bonus than anything else, and it only exists for two reasons: FuturisticDreams and Tumblr. When i first posted this fic, FD commented that Neo seemed to be acting cruelly, strange for him 'cause he's such a nice guy. I agreed, and wondered if there were some way he could attempt to atone. That idea got back-shelved until a little while ago, when a prompt on Tumblr awoke my sleeping muse, and I eventually came up with this. Hope you enjoy it!

(Btw, the prompt given was it went to voicemail three times.) Except it only does so twice in this fic. My story, don't judge.

Punch in the number you know off by heart, cross your fingers, and press the dial button.

It rang, and rang, and rang. No answer. He considered leaving her a message, but couldn't think of what to say to her. He couldn't think of anything she'd be willing to listen to, anyway.

So he got up, and made some coffee. Made the bed, tidied up the way he only ever did when he was nervous and needed to do something with his hands so he didn't go crazy.

Then he tried again.

Dial, cross your fingers, and call.

Still nothing.

He sighed a little shakily, and put the phone down for the second time. He'd woken that morning, alone, slumped over his dormant keyboard, with a feeling of deep, constricting guilt low in his chest, and only one root cause he could think of. He remembered the look of utter, furious shock on her face as she'd picked herself up from the floor, tears starting to well in her eyes. At the time he'd thought nothing of it; all had been subordinate to his need to document everything he'd seen before it faded like just another wasted dream, and the constant sound of her voice had done absolutely nothing to help him. But now…

I don't know why I blew up like that. Now that the feverish, excited haze of epiphany had released its grip on his mind, he could think clearly once more, and naturally his first thought was of her. Erin. Shit.

One more for luck. Dial, cross your fingers, and call her.

"Pick up," he muttered desperately, "please. Please." Talk to me, Erin.

Oh god, she actually did.

"Hello?" She didn't sound mad, not yet anyway, and that gave him hope.

Erin, I'm so sorry about what happened last night, but I'm on the verge of uncovering something bigger than anybody could ever comprehend, and I wish I could explain it to you properly, but I don't think there's any way I could make you understand, even if I knew what I was talking about.

"Hello? Who's this?"

It's dangerous, what I do. We're not talking simple dirty hacking here, this is bigger than that. Huge, even. Something they've been keeping hidden for us, probably for a good reason, but I have to know. I have to find out the truth.

"Hello? Don't screw with me, whoever you are."

When I find out what this is, I'll explain everything to you.

"…" She sighed, sounding metallic and grating down the phone, but losing none of its lioness-growl annoyance. He knew what she'd be doing, standing by the wall where her phone was mounted, drumming her fingernails against the doorframe, the way she always did when she was irritable. He could picture her in the act, see the thin press of her lips, the inky, spiky mess of her hair, raked through a couple of times with a restless hand as she waited impatiently for him to speak.

Everything, I promise.

He couldn't say a word of that out loud. He couldn't. It sounded like he was losing his mind. Hell, maybe he was. She was right; it all really did sound like something out of a cyberpunk novel. Something too strange, too crazy to be true. But if it were…

Resigned, he took a breath. "Erin?" he began.

She hung up immediately. Didn't even answer him.

Maybe she'd cool off eventually, and they'd find the time to talk this out. Maybe she wouldn't. Maybe he'd screwed up for good this time.

Maybe it was better that way.

-end

Again, I hope you enjoyed. My ideas bank is running a little dry as of late, so as usual, I am open for prompts and requests. Reviews would be a godsend as well, if you have the time.