My Own God

Title: My Own God
Author: FloweringWolfsbane
Author’s Email: flowering_wolfsbane@hotmail.com
Web page:http://www.machinescontradiction.bravehost.com/fanfiction.html
Pairing; Agent Smith/OC
Current Rating: R
Summary: The story of how just how machines seek perfection, so too are they filled with contradiction.
Disclaimer: Not mine, someone else’s.
Warnings: Completely AU of course.
Author’s Note: I was sick of the fact that there were no major female roles in the films (apart from Trinity…) and so I have corrected that oversight. The say Smith and Neo are opposites, and so therefore I decided to even the odds between them a tad.

Chapter Nine: Ode To Cruelty

She lay curled up, her clothing ripped, body splattered with goosepimps, her own blood and several substances of his own. Her fingernails had skin and blood beneath them, and her legs and lips…he smiled. She made such pretty noises.

Love's the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty

He knew he was the cause, and it pleased him. But it also hurt him for some reason. Some concealed part of his program told him he was responsible fro her suffering, and so her to ought to feel pain as a penance for causing her pain.

Humanity, he sneered; what a horribly painful contradiction. This body itself did not regret its stolen pleasure from this female’s body. Such a weak argument; the machines condition relied on logic, never mind those pathetic hormonal messages and urges!


When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom

With a surge of sickness to his stomach, he had realised he had acted upon his humanity, not his logic. And what did that make him? Having used and abused her body in such a cruel way….he was little better than a human. No; he was worse. He had a choice, and between humanity and logic, wrong and right, bad and good…he went with immorality; humanity

The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy

He picked her up, realising how limp and cold she was, almost akin to dead. That in itself scared him. She couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t. He awed in how quickly this body, this mind, yielded from sadistic pleasure to suddenly caring so much for her welfare. And it made him detest his humanity even more.

When love is a gun
Separating me from you

“Let go of me.” He felt something cold press into his forehead; she wasn’t as dead as he had believed. With a mad gleam in her eye, M stood shakily up, the cold clammy metal kind in her hand, the only comfort she had in this situation, when even her own program had betrayed her to him.

She was the sun shining upon
The tomb of your hopes and dreams so frail

“M, forgive me, I should never have-“

“Shut the fuck up, Agent! I don’t want to hear your excuses!”

It was the famed third gun, M’s favourite gun. Smith raised his hands so she could see them. They stood frozen like this for a few minutes, before M fell to the floor, gun forgotten, eyes brimming with fresh tears. He snapped forward, holding her close, feeling her shudder with tears.

He was the moon painting you
With it's glow so vulnerable and pale

M sobbed as if her heart would break. It hurt so much! Not only had Smith progressed beyond her control, able to combine both humanity and machine to make choices, he has shown it no longer mattered if she controlled him; he had thrown her final restriction off. Nothing she could do could prevent or control his actions. He had broken all the rules, proven himself beyond the Mainframe’s jurisdiction.

She was the wind, carrying in
All the troubles and fears here for years tried to forget

Having him beat her control proved she was no longer required for the Matrix; her Agents were destroyed, he had eaten the final gatekeeper; only the human Neo stood even a tiny chance now. He was no longer insecure in emotion, whether aware of it or not he had developed a subconscious control over it.

He was the fire, restless and wild
And you were like a moth to that flame

No; the reason it hurt so much was not down to her inevitable doom, but more like the fact he didn’t need her. She was unwanted, a hinderance. For all her perfection, she was not needed.
Did this imply she cared for him? Could a machine ever love another machine? She was not so sure the answer was as black and white as it once had been to her. Logic was ignored by emotion, and so therefore…she was helpless. Something she disliked, hated.


The heretic seal beyond divine
Pray to god who's deaf and blind

“What happens now, M? Will you delete me? Will the Mainframe forgive you of this terrible betrayal, this misuse of their perfection?”

“No. The Mainframe will delete me, and I will go to the Source. I will be free.” She smiled weakly. “You will do what you are meant to, unbarred.” Tapping on her wristband, she released Smiths program from her own; the files she’d corrupted vanishing. “You have power unlimited; You are a god.”

The last night's the soul's on fire
Three little words and a question why

She seemed to slump after that, smaller, weaker…Smith was suddenly very aware that one day, like M, his power would wane…Her eyes seemed duller, skin more ashen than a glowing pale. He reached for the gun she had discarded, cradling it delicately.

“M, I can rid you of this en. I can make it all go; do not let the Mainframe take you.”

“I will pay for my crimes against the system; deletion no longer scares me.”

Love's the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty

The way she looked at him hurt him; he was confused. Her control has been lifted, he felt weightless without it, but yet…something remained. A small part of her was still within him, he could feel it. He touched her face, trying to picture her as she had been, fiery, domineering….her lips, those soft lips that had kissed him so gently…

“You won’t die, you won’t go. You’re the Master Agent, I need you.”

“Tell me Agent, what is it about me you love? My power, or my program?”

Without even considering, he forced his hand into her chest, clearly, this was a new power. She changed, her RSI morphing to twin his own.

The other clone stood up, straightened out his clothing, and waited patiently. Smith still cradled M’s gun; carefully passing his own to the clone, he placed her small gun in his holster, close to his person.

“Does that answer your question?” He asked.

When love is a gun
Seperating me from you

~~~
That’s it. My Own God is over.

UNLESS you decide otherwise!

If you would like a sequel, as in the previous chapter, comment, and tell me what you want in it. Within reason. I have my own agendas and ideas, and if I like your idea I’ll use it. But if you like this ending, if you want M and Smith to be together in this way, forever, review and say so.

As ever, reviews will be treasured. But first, I need to say some things that should have been spoken in the very first chapter.

Firstly, this was written by me for my boyfriend as a Valentine’s Gift. The original was terrible, but he encouraged me to keep building M’s character, he read and gave me advice, and I am truly thankful to him.

Secondly, thank you to Selina and Agent Alexandra, two of my long time readers. I’ve known them for precious little time, but we all write Smith, and we all write him very differently. Thank you girls for writing your own fanfictions, which I have read and used to build up my own.

Thirdly, and finally, Thank you all, beloved Readers, every single one of you make writing this worthwhile. Its been a blast.

xxx

FloweringWolfsbane