We Were Agents
He could remember everything. Absolutely everything. All of their names. . . Ms. Garfield, Ms. Saunders, Mr. Anderson. He remembered all of them. Their families, their lives, how they died, by his gun or theirs. He remembered all the sounds his gun ever made. All the screams. All the commands. The rare sight of a children laughing. He never realized how many memories he had. He never realized how much he liked them.
And now, Agent Brown stands here only with Agent Jones. Agent Smith was gone. He had been gone for almost a month. They were broken Agents, with no leader. Ever since Mr. Anderson did something to Smith. . . Smith had been different. Smith left them. Smith had shown fear in his eyes. Smith had fallen. And now, for the first time, Brown felt fear. Smith was gone. Their leader. . . He had been corrupted, he had left them. He ran away. He looked them right in the eyes, and he still ran away. Brown's type of protector was gone. And only Jones was with him now. Fear. Fear of what had happened to Smith. Fear that it would happen to him. Fear that he would corrupt, he would be a Virus. He didn't want that to happen. He didn't want this human to destroy him. It wasn't supposed to be like that. Agents kill, not humans. Agents hunt, not humans. Agents don't die. But Mr. Anderson defied that. The result was Smith leaving. What made him leave them? Why? Why?
Brown was always the little one. The smallest of the Agents, yet still deadly. Brown didn't notice that he was always the one on the computer, always the one checking files. The one inquiring, and thinking. Not the one fighting. He didn't realize he didn't like to fight. He didn't realize how dependent he was. No one did.
Jones was the larger one of the Agents. Jones was his protector now.
Brown doesn't understand what he is feeling. He doesn't know why he searches his memories. He doesn't know that he is looking back to a time before Mr. Anderson. He doesn't understand this beginning of an emotion. He wanted to consult Smith. He knew Smith would know. Smith always knew. But now he is alone with Jones. He knew this wasn't right. He shouldn't long for Smith. He shouldn't feel the need for protection. But he did, and it wouldn't stop.
They stand there, unmoving. Perhaps it is because they both have fear, or maybe because they are just Agents. They stand in a white hallway, with endless green doors. They stand in a backdoor, the substructure of the Matrix. The door they face now opens to The Source.
Everything that has a beginning has an end.
The Agents were to report to The Source for deletion. Upgraded versions for Agents had been written. Johnson, Thompson, and Jackson would now replace Jones and Brown. They had no purpose now.
Brown didn't understand why he didn't like that. He didn't like not having a purpose. He didn't understand the feeling. He didn't like it.
Brown finds himself almost shaking. He doesn't know why. He knows he shouldn't be afraid. Programs are always replaced. But he didn't want to be replaced. He didn't want to be useless. He had to have a purpose. He had to.
Jones slightly turns to Brown. He sees Brown's arm is shaking. He wonders why, but knows the answer. Brown doesn't look at him, and he doesn't like that. Jones then steps forth, closer to the door, closer to deletion. He turns back to Brown, who still only stares.
Brown doesn't understand this. This beginning of an emotion. He had never experienced such a thing, he didn't know how to react, as he kept his face emotionless. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to be deleted. He wanted to stay, he wanted to still be an Agent. He knew he had to be deleted. But he was compelled to disobey.
Then Brown realized he had a choice.
This revelation of choice, made him tilt his head upward, and slightly opened his mouth, wanting to share this with Jones. He realized he had a choice. But he didn't no if Jones would understand, he didn't really fully comprehend this choice. All Brown could do was slightly form words.
"No, Jones. . ." Brown said.
Jones tilted his head to Brown. He didn't understand.
Brown started shaking his head, and backing up. He didn't want this.
"No. . ."
Then Brown turned, and he ran.
He defied all laws of an Agent. Agents didn't run, they did what they were told. But Brown didn't want to be deleted. Brown wanted to live. He wasn't thinking of what he'd do. He only ran. He didn't think about how he would survive, if anyone would chase him. He only ran for his life.
Jones stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. If he ran after Brown, he would be disobeying orders. But he didn't want to be alone. He didn't want Brown to run away like Smith.
"Brown!"
Jones ran after his fellow Agent. Down the halls they ran, doors as far as anyone can see. And slowly Brown realized what he was doing. He didn't understand. What would he do after this? He slowly came to a stop, and Jones grabbed his arm. Brown didn't look at Jones, he stared ahead of him. He could still run, run to the Matrix. Run to life, but what would he do? What would happen to him?
"We must return to The Source." Jones said.
Brown started shaking his head again.
"No! I mean. . .Yes. . ." Brown said.
Brown still didn't face Jones.
"We must go." Jones said.
"No!" Brown yelled.
"But Brown- -"
Brown snatched his arm away from Jones, and turned to him. He took his sunglasses off to reveal blue eyes.
"If we go, they'll delete us!" Brown yelled.
"Yes." Jones nodded.
Brown didn't know how to explain this feeling.
"But. . .But. . ." Brown stuttered.
Brown still shook his head, trying to find words to say. He started breathing irregularly. He was afraid.
"That is what we must do." Jones said.
"No! I don't want to be deleted!" Brown, turned away, looking back to the hallways.
"But we must, the Mainframe ordered."
"No! We don't have to!"
"We are outdated, we must return to The Source."
"But. . ."
Brown turned back to Jones, with this look of desperation in his face. Brown had to go to the Source. They had to. . . They had to.
"We have a choice." Brown said, more like an Agent.
Jones titled his head.
"A choice?" Jones asked.
Brown looked down, and nodded.
"We could run. They won't know until we are already gone." Brown said.
"But that is not what we are supposed to do."
"It doesn't matter."
Jones looked at Agent Brown. They were still Agents. Still thinking like Agents. Knowing they must do this, but wanting to do something else. They knew they shouldn't be like that. Jones didn't know. Neither of them did.
"But- -" Jones started.
"They'll delete us!" Brown interrupted.
"But they will delete us even if we run."
"But if we run, we have a chance! We are Agents, we can escape."
"But they'll send the upgraded Agents after us."
"We can still try."
Brown stepped closer to Jones. In his own subtle way, Brown was pleading for Jones to come with him. Brown didn't want to be alone.
"I don't want to be like Smith." Jones said.
Brown stopped.
Smith had left them. Smith had been corrupted. He had lost control of his emotions. He ran. He chose Exile. He had become a Virus.
"We don't have to." Brown ripped off his earpiece. "It's our choice."
"Brown. . ."
Jones stared at the earpiece in Brown's hand, and he slowly took out his, doubting these choices. Knowing he should go to the Source, knowing he breaking a rule for staying.
"Jones, we'll die." Brown said, quietly.
"Die?"
Jones had never thought of deletion as death. He suddenly found himself picturing the death of Mr. Davis. Mr. Davis died, and never moved again. Death was never really a thought of an Agent. They knew what death was, and what happened with it. But never did an Agent really think about it, other than Smith.
"I don't want to die." Brown said.
Jones held his earpiece tightly, and Brown awaited him to reply. But he never did. And they stood there, silent, a choice in front of them.
Brown then turned, and backed away. Then he looked back to Jones, who stared at him. Brown grabbed Jones's wrist.
"Come on." Brown said.
Then they ran.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next Chapter (If anyone wishes for me to continue) : Remember?
Please R/R!
And don't worry. Smith will come, and join them. Not to mention the earlier versions of Agents from Reloaded. Remember? Persephone killed one of them with a silver bullet, just before she led Neo to the Keymaker?
That is, if anyone tells me to continue.
He could remember everything. Absolutely everything. All of their names. . . Ms. Garfield, Ms. Saunders, Mr. Anderson. He remembered all of them. Their families, their lives, how they died, by his gun or theirs. He remembered all the sounds his gun ever made. All the screams. All the commands. The rare sight of a children laughing. He never realized how many memories he had. He never realized how much he liked them.
And now, Agent Brown stands here only with Agent Jones. Agent Smith was gone. He had been gone for almost a month. They were broken Agents, with no leader. Ever since Mr. Anderson did something to Smith. . . Smith had been different. Smith left them. Smith had shown fear in his eyes. Smith had fallen. And now, for the first time, Brown felt fear. Smith was gone. Their leader. . . He had been corrupted, he had left them. He ran away. He looked them right in the eyes, and he still ran away. Brown's type of protector was gone. And only Jones was with him now. Fear. Fear of what had happened to Smith. Fear that it would happen to him. Fear that he would corrupt, he would be a Virus. He didn't want that to happen. He didn't want this human to destroy him. It wasn't supposed to be like that. Agents kill, not humans. Agents hunt, not humans. Agents don't die. But Mr. Anderson defied that. The result was Smith leaving. What made him leave them? Why? Why?
Brown was always the little one. The smallest of the Agents, yet still deadly. Brown didn't notice that he was always the one on the computer, always the one checking files. The one inquiring, and thinking. Not the one fighting. He didn't realize he didn't like to fight. He didn't realize how dependent he was. No one did.
Jones was the larger one of the Agents. Jones was his protector now.
Brown doesn't understand what he is feeling. He doesn't know why he searches his memories. He doesn't know that he is looking back to a time before Mr. Anderson. He doesn't understand this beginning of an emotion. He wanted to consult Smith. He knew Smith would know. Smith always knew. But now he is alone with Jones. He knew this wasn't right. He shouldn't long for Smith. He shouldn't feel the need for protection. But he did, and it wouldn't stop.
They stand there, unmoving. Perhaps it is because they both have fear, or maybe because they are just Agents. They stand in a white hallway, with endless green doors. They stand in a backdoor, the substructure of the Matrix. The door they face now opens to The Source.
Everything that has a beginning has an end.
The Agents were to report to The Source for deletion. Upgraded versions for Agents had been written. Johnson, Thompson, and Jackson would now replace Jones and Brown. They had no purpose now.
Brown didn't understand why he didn't like that. He didn't like not having a purpose. He didn't understand the feeling. He didn't like it.
Brown finds himself almost shaking. He doesn't know why. He knows he shouldn't be afraid. Programs are always replaced. But he didn't want to be replaced. He didn't want to be useless. He had to have a purpose. He had to.
Jones slightly turns to Brown. He sees Brown's arm is shaking. He wonders why, but knows the answer. Brown doesn't look at him, and he doesn't like that. Jones then steps forth, closer to the door, closer to deletion. He turns back to Brown, who still only stares.
Brown doesn't understand this. This beginning of an emotion. He had never experienced such a thing, he didn't know how to react, as he kept his face emotionless. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to be deleted. He wanted to stay, he wanted to still be an Agent. He knew he had to be deleted. But he was compelled to disobey.
Then Brown realized he had a choice.
This revelation of choice, made him tilt his head upward, and slightly opened his mouth, wanting to share this with Jones. He realized he had a choice. But he didn't no if Jones would understand, he didn't really fully comprehend this choice. All Brown could do was slightly form words.
"No, Jones. . ." Brown said.
Jones tilted his head to Brown. He didn't understand.
Brown started shaking his head, and backing up. He didn't want this.
"No. . ."
Then Brown turned, and he ran.
He defied all laws of an Agent. Agents didn't run, they did what they were told. But Brown didn't want to be deleted. Brown wanted to live. He wasn't thinking of what he'd do. He only ran. He didn't think about how he would survive, if anyone would chase him. He only ran for his life.
Jones stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. If he ran after Brown, he would be disobeying orders. But he didn't want to be alone. He didn't want Brown to run away like Smith.
"Brown!"
Jones ran after his fellow Agent. Down the halls they ran, doors as far as anyone can see. And slowly Brown realized what he was doing. He didn't understand. What would he do after this? He slowly came to a stop, and Jones grabbed his arm. Brown didn't look at Jones, he stared ahead of him. He could still run, run to the Matrix. Run to life, but what would he do? What would happen to him?
"We must return to The Source." Jones said.
Brown started shaking his head again.
"No! I mean. . .Yes. . ." Brown said.
Brown still didn't face Jones.
"We must go." Jones said.
"No!" Brown yelled.
"But Brown- -"
Brown snatched his arm away from Jones, and turned to him. He took his sunglasses off to reveal blue eyes.
"If we go, they'll delete us!" Brown yelled.
"Yes." Jones nodded.
Brown didn't know how to explain this feeling.
"But. . .But. . ." Brown stuttered.
Brown still shook his head, trying to find words to say. He started breathing irregularly. He was afraid.
"That is what we must do." Jones said.
"No! I don't want to be deleted!" Brown, turned away, looking back to the hallways.
"But we must, the Mainframe ordered."
"No! We don't have to!"
"We are outdated, we must return to The Source."
"But. . ."
Brown turned back to Jones, with this look of desperation in his face. Brown had to go to the Source. They had to. . . They had to.
"We have a choice." Brown said, more like an Agent.
Jones titled his head.
"A choice?" Jones asked.
Brown looked down, and nodded.
"We could run. They won't know until we are already gone." Brown said.
"But that is not what we are supposed to do."
"It doesn't matter."
Jones looked at Agent Brown. They were still Agents. Still thinking like Agents. Knowing they must do this, but wanting to do something else. They knew they shouldn't be like that. Jones didn't know. Neither of them did.
"But- -" Jones started.
"They'll delete us!" Brown interrupted.
"But they will delete us even if we run."
"But if we run, we have a chance! We are Agents, we can escape."
"But they'll send the upgraded Agents after us."
"We can still try."
Brown stepped closer to Jones. In his own subtle way, Brown was pleading for Jones to come with him. Brown didn't want to be alone.
"I don't want to be like Smith." Jones said.
Brown stopped.
Smith had left them. Smith had been corrupted. He had lost control of his emotions. He ran. He chose Exile. He had become a Virus.
"We don't have to." Brown ripped off his earpiece. "It's our choice."
"Brown. . ."
Jones stared at the earpiece in Brown's hand, and he slowly took out his, doubting these choices. Knowing he should go to the Source, knowing he breaking a rule for staying.
"Jones, we'll die." Brown said, quietly.
"Die?"
Jones had never thought of deletion as death. He suddenly found himself picturing the death of Mr. Davis. Mr. Davis died, and never moved again. Death was never really a thought of an Agent. They knew what death was, and what happened with it. But never did an Agent really think about it, other than Smith.
"I don't want to die." Brown said.
Jones held his earpiece tightly, and Brown awaited him to reply. But he never did. And they stood there, silent, a choice in front of them.
Brown then turned, and backed away. Then he looked back to Jones, who stared at him. Brown grabbed Jones's wrist.
"Come on." Brown said.
Then they ran.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next Chapter (If anyone wishes for me to continue) : Remember?
Please R/R!
And don't worry. Smith will come, and join them. Not to mention the earlier versions of Agents from Reloaded. Remember? Persephone killed one of them with a silver bullet, just before she led Neo to the Keymaker?
That is, if anyone tells me to continue.