He sat motionless next to her. He had done it. He ended it. He had done it for her. Now, she wasn't there to share it with him. She lay motionless without a breath. There was no sign of life left in her. Nothing.
"Kiss me, once more. Kiss me."
His heart ached as he replayed that moment in his mind. It pained him to hear her strain just to speak t him, just to breathe, just to stay alive. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't; his tear ducts had been damaged. He wished the tears would flow. He had nothing now. No sight, no tears, no Trinity. He gripped her cold, limp hand tighter.
He remembered the bag that she had packed for their journey, knowing well that they would never have a need for it. He shook his head as if he could shake away the thought.
"Why, Mr. Anderson? Why do you do it? Why get up? Why keep fighting? Do you believe you're fighting for something? For more than your survival? Can you you tell me what it is? Do you even know? Is it freedom? Or truth? Perhaps peace? Yes? No? Could it be for love? Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. The temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose. And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself, although only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love."
Neo wanted to scream when he heard that. He knew he was losing without her. He thought about why he did persist. Why, why, why had he persisted? Why? It dawned on him for the second time that he didn't persist for the salvation of Zion. He didn't persist for the children. He didn't persist for fame or glory. He didn't even persist for Morpheus. He persisted for her – for Trinity. He did it because that was what she had always wanted; she had always wanted a life of peace, and now that that dream was attainable, she would never experience it.
He knew this as he got up, ready to continue the fight. He remembered how he had gotten up after his revelation, how he regained his strength suddenly all while knowing how to defeat his opposite: sacrifice. Just as Trinity had done time and time again, he sacrificed everything he had left: his life. He had thought that he would be with her once more.
The machines could not understand his emotion and kept him alive. They might have believed that they were doing him a favour by granting him life, but instead they had punished him immensely. When he had awoken, he threatened to kill himself. The machines countered; his death would end the newfound peace. Everything he had fought for, everything Trinity had fought for would have been in vain. Neo couldn't allow that. Instead of continuing his failing argument, he retreated to the ship and sat with her.
His mind ventured back to the thought of Trinity's bag. His fingers loosened their grip; he had to know, for his own sanity. "I'll be back," he whispered to her, knowing that she couldn't hear him.
Neo got to his feet and felt his way to where Trinity had left the bag. They never even went into a cabin. He found that bag in the hallway where she had left it. He grabbed it, and slowly felt his way back to her lifeless form and sat down next to her. He then slowly undid the drawstrings and felt inside.
A blanket and a container of something he couldn't identify. He felt its soft flesh and was overcome by a fruity scent. Trinity was planning to share this with him upon his victory. He felt another part of his heart shatter. He continued to feel through the bag. Empty. At least his mind could find some peace.
He put the bag down and shivered. Carefully, he pulled the blanket towards him to drape it over his shoulders. A loud clang rang through his ears. His body was overcome with fear. Maybe the machines had gone back on their promise. Maybe they had come to take Trinity away. He repositioned his hands, ready to stand up and fight, but his hand bumped something. He realized it must have fallen from the blanket.
He grasped the object, feeling it in his hands. It was a rock - a flat and polished rock. He turned it over in his hands, trying to figure out what it was exactly. With one final turn, he ran his fingers over the smooth stone. He felt an engraving. His fingers traced the loops and swirls: handwriting. Trinity's cursive had always reminded him of old fairy-tale script, and that's exactly what he felt on the stone. They felt like her letters. Trinity had carved it herself.
His fingers slowly traced each letter.
'Never letting go'
He felt more and found two hearts were engraved. They interlaced at the sides, like the circles of a ven-diagram. He hugged the slab of stone tightly, his heart completely tearing in two. He remembered now. He remembered walking into their room one night, seeing Trinity sitting cross-legged on the floor. He remembered seeing her holding something in one hand and a chisel in the other. When she noticed his presence she quickly hid everything in a blanket and refused to tell him what it was. He never pressed her to tell him and he never let curiosity get the best of him.
Neo's fingers found hers once more and gripped them tightly. He leaned down and kissed her cold lips one last time.
"I'm never, ever, going to let go. Ever."