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Ghost POV, pre-matrix.

Her arms were tightening around my waist, pulling me closer, her body blending into mine. Skin on skin, sending sparks through me. The rhythm of the music flowed through our bodies, her breath ragged in my ear.

She was drunk, of course.

Trinity may dance, but not so intimately, not unless she’d drunk too much. At that thought a wave of remorse flooded through me. If I had been there earlier than she wouldn’t have turned to the drink for comfort.

I would have got to the gathering earlier, being held in remembrance of the soldiers that died this past year, but unfortunately I was kept longer than expected by the commander. By the time I’d got there, Trinity had decided the drink was the only was to overcome her pain.

It was well known among the soldiers that Trinity very rarely drank, and for her to drink excessively was practically unheard of. It was just as well known that it was a year yesterday since Raine had been killed.

They had been close friends on the Neb, the only person besides me she could confide in, then a year ago she was killed during an operation within the matrix.

The death affected the whole crew but Trinity continued as normal on ship, an act that was to later coin the nickname ‘Ice Queen’.

Soldiers thought her cold beforehand; they just saw this as proof. I knew differently of course; once she docked we headed to the bar. Her face was stoic as ever. She ignored the piercing glares and hushed whispers of people around her. Only her eyes betrayed her pain. Such deep pain, like I’d never seen before.


Her hand gripped mine until my skin flushed blue, but she kept her gaze on her drink.

“I can’t even cry for her. “ She whispered, as if each word pained her.

“You can, dear sister” I replied.

She turned to me, her eyes blazing in a mixture of fear, self loathing and intense anger.

“No, dear brother, I can’t,” she repeated, her voice laced with self-disgust, “because if I do, I don’t know if I’d be able to stop.”

She grabbed her drink, downed the remainder and ordered another.

After her third drink I lent forward and grabbed her hands, turning her to face me.

“I think that’s enough.”

 Her eyes narrowed.

“Do you know how she died?” Her voice went deceptively quiet, barely audible against the noise of the bar.

“She was two blocks from the exit, an agent morphed in front of her and she ran into the road. She got hit by a lorry. A fucking lorry!” She was shaking.

I didn’t know what I could do or say to comfort her so I lifted my hands and allowed her to have 4 more drinks. After I swore I would never make the same mistake again, the alcohol made her a completely different person. She dragged me to my feet and pulled me to the dance floor. Admittedly I enjoyed immensely the proximity of our bodies, but I couldn’t shake the gnawing guilt.


The memory fades and I decide to stop it this time, before it gets out of hand.

I lean forward so she can hear me above the pounding music.

“Trinity, I think we should go now.”

She tilts her head questioningly, an emotion I can’t decipher flashes through her eyes before she agrees.


The journey to Trinity’s apartment is made in silence. I go to close the door but she turns me round, pushing me back onto it, kissing me hard. I instantly return it, savouring every second. Her hands slide round the back of my neck, gliding through my hair. In turn I wrap my hands around her slim waist, caressing her.

“Trinity….”  I murmur breathlessly.

Her knee rubs against my crouch as she pulls me back towards the bed.

I shudder.

How many times have I dreamt of this? How many nights have I awoken with the numbing realisation it was just a dream?

I gaze into her eyes and my gut runs cold. I see the look that danced in her last time, alcohol fuelled lust. I had known it all along, but not wanted to admit it. My heart sank as I knew she would regret anything she did in the morning, her drinking a mere blip.




I’d stayed with her that night; she had collapsed on her bed after muttering an apology, and I watched her sleep.

I’d not actually done anything; I couldn’t take advantage of her. Not Trinity.

She stirred and I moved to sit beside her, giving her a wane smile as she looked up at me.

“Ghost,” she groaned, “why the hell did you let me drink so much?” I could see it in her eyes, she remembered what happened, just, but it had meant nothing. The pain was as physical as a blow to the stomach, I could barely breathe.

I feigned another smile, shrugged and quickly left the room. In the lift I slammed my back into the wall, clenched my fists and sunk to the floor. The lift stopped, I heaved myself up and made my way back to my room.

Once inside I didn’t bother undressing, I just curled up on my bed. I tried to sleep but the chaotic noise in my head and intense pain in my heart forbade me, so I settled for taking a long shower.


The memory subsides. She is staring at me, her hand caressing my cheek. I look at her through damp eyes, push her away.

“Ghost..?” She questions, startled. I can’t look at her. I don’t mean to hurt her, I can’t blame her, but the pain is so intense.  

I stumble back, nearly falling over as my trousers are around my ankles. When had they been undone?

She tries to catch me but ends up losing her balance and falling on top of me.

She moans as my erection pushes against her, her breath tickles the exposed part of my chest.

I’ve got to get away, i’ve wanted this for so long what if I can’t stop myself?

I try pushing her off but she just grabs my shirt, brushing her self against me, causing me to shudder.

“Trinity..,” my voice sounds weak and broken, tears reforming in my eyes “please. Don’t do this to me.”

She shifts just enough for me to push off sideways. Her dress, already half undone, completely unravels on the floor leaving her chest and torso exposed.


I stare for just minute, unable to help myself, then realise I can’t just leave her like this. This isn’t Trinity.

As much I want to leave I can’t, she needs me.


She tries to sit back up but the alcohols effect is getting stronger and she is unable to.

Wiping the tears from my eyes I pull my trousers up, and crawl over to her.

“Ghost… i. Brother…” The word hits me like a dagger. I close my eyes, trying to hold back the torrent of pain. You’re her brother. Nothing more. Nothing less. She needs you right now.

I help her to sit up, trying to ignore her husky breathing in my ear and her hands running up and down my leg as re-tie her dress.

As I pick her up and carry her to the bed, she is already falling asleep. I take off her shoes, make sure she is comfortable and pull the cover up over her.

I re-button my shirt, fresh tears trailing down my cheeks. I remember the Oracle telling me she would only love me as a brother, remember simultaneously feeling overwhelming relieve and indescribable pain. I hear myself quoting Nietzsche, “One must want nothing to be different – not forward, not backward, not in all eternity.  Not only bear what is necessary, but to love it.”


I fill a glass of water and place it on the floor near her bed, along with two painkillers. I gaze at her sleeping form, a broken smile on my lips, and my heart heavy in my chest.

I hope she doesn’t remember any of it once she awakes, I think as I head to my apartment and a repeat of last time; a night unable sleep.






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