Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me! Hello, Dear-hearts, it's been a while since I've updated, and I hope it's not going to be like that often. I want to say that I've gone through my story twice, so that means little to almost no mistakes at all, and I'm exceptionally pleased on that matter ^^

A/N: Wanted to point out that I've come up with an exceptional plot line for this, with the help of a good friend. Heather Giesbrecht Who helped with idea's. Thank you gurl~! x3 I hope you guys' enjoy~!

"Smith." A voice called from beyond the metal door. "Open up."

There was a rattling pounding sound, which indicated someone was slamming the side of their fist against the thick door. The voice was a soft kind of gruff, so it wasn't Morpheus. The dark haired man nearly rolled his eyes, but instead settled for a stuffy groan.

"Leave."

"No, open the door. You know you're not supposed to lock it." The voice replied, there was a rough rocking from the other side, the person on the other side was trying to pry the door open, nearly desperately.

"Mr. Anderson," Smith groaned, leaning his face further into his ratty pillow, "Leave. Me. Alone."

"Smith!" He heard an exasperated sigh from the other side, Neo pounded harder against the door, "Stop acting like a kid, and get out here." There was a pregnant pause.

"I'm not leaving my quarters."

Neo banged his head against the door, this was useless. "I'll get Morpheus to come here and force your door off, if you don't open it." Another pause.

Except this time, Neo heard soft distinct shuffling from the other side, before a loud distinguished 'Click' sounded off. The large metallic door creaked open, a disheveled Smith standing in the doorway.

"You look terrible," Neo commented, reaching forward and taking hold of the shorter man's clothed elbow; Smith barely rejected.

"Humans are so fragile." The man stated absently, an obvious disgust edged at the tone of his voice. Neo looked at the dark haired man, a frown tugging at his lips. He wasn't offended by the insult, no; to be honest, he was actually quite used to Smith's obvious distaste in humans. He was more concerned as to why he said it. For the insult wasn't directed to all humans, but the body Smith was hosting. His own.

Neo wasn't sure this would happen or not, and to be honest, he hadn't really expected it at all. He just assumed that Smith would still have his immunity from back in the Matrix, but, evidentially, this wasn't the case. One little child sneezed in the shorter man's direction, and it all went down hill from there.

Smith's immunity system was a wreck.

Neo hadn't thought much of the sideways half-coughs the brunette suffered from the rest of that day, or the small sneezes. They had shocked the ex-agent, who insisted he was dying; Neo expressed that it was an average 'human' thing to do, and brushed the effects off his shoulder.

Two days after the fact, he woke up to this awful sound, and found Smith's face hovering over the toilet seat and vomiting violently, arms clutching his middle as if to make it stop. Neo wasn't sure why, but his body seemed to stiffen and go on auto-pilot, dropping to his knee's beside the mortified man, hand rubbing against his back soothingly, like he had done for Trinity when she was ill.

He didn't find any rejection to his ministrations, when Smith's eyes closed, the last of the bile out of his system, to the point of nearly dry heaves, which Smith was able to control. Neo remembered his body was shuddering terribly, eyes closed tightly, with his jaw set. His hand was still rubbing his back as he flushed all the remains away, helping a shaky ex-agent to his feet. He grabbed a towel that was sitting by the sink, wiping any remains from the mans lips.

Complete and utter disgust and mortification was quite evident on the ex-agents face, who couldn't quite get himself to control his insistent shuttering. He wasn't used to less than perfect health- and that fact that he wasn't sure what was going on with his body downright terrified him. He felt fear; he's never felt fear before.

Neo lead Smith from his room to the kitchen table, setting him on one of the seats. Smith would have normally retorted, and scold; rudely commenting on the fact that he was a full grown man and wasn't in need of some inferior human's assistance. Although, truth be told, he wasn't even certain that some of that was true. He did need help, he didn't exactly trust his wobbly legs to support his weight properly.

"Hidding in your room isn't going to make this go away." Neo stated, looking through some cabinets, searching for that remedy that Morpheus had made for them.

"And you honestly believe that.. that filth will?" His voice sounded somewhat cloggy, but Neo didn't comment on it. He'd been sick for three days, and he's slowly getting better. The vomiting had almost stopped entirely, and Neo had been able to get him to eat some of that nutrient mush that everyone ate. Mouse was right about one thing, it did kinda taste like Tasty Wheat.

"I believe that it's helping, yeah." Neo grabbed the bowl, before his hand came across a bag of leaves. "It's helped me before, it's helped Morpheus, it's helped a bunch of others, and it will help you."

"You're basing your answer on a theory?"

"I'm basing it on fact, theres is literally a One in a Million chance that this won't work. Besides, you're already showing improvements."

"That's not my diagnosis." Smith said coldly, a quaking hand running over his face, he sniffed idly; suddenly in desperate need for a tissue. Neo noticed the mans struggle and reached over to grab the disposable rags that his friend brought in. Morpheus seemed to have everything figured out, and nearly found the situations funny. Neo tossed them to the shorter man who caught them effortlessly, blowing his nose.

"This is disgusting." Smith stated, "I feel filthy."

"It'll pass, give it some time. Then we can head back to that restraunt on the 64th floor, I know you like the food there." Neo suggested, pouring some water into the bowl, before setting it on the oven, clicking it on and setting it to high. There was a slight pause, before a pleased noise escaped the brunettes slighty swollen lips.

"That sounds splendid." Neo turned to face him, setting the leaves on the table top before reaching over and brushing the back of his hands against the others forehead.

"The fevers dying down a little bit," He commented, "You were hotter yesterday."

"I'm freezing." Smith muttered, burying his head into his hands, "I do not understand why you insist I'm hot."

The comment was ignored, as the taller male checked the water, feeling a bit luke-warm, he gingerly grabbed the bowl, flipping off the stove before setting it in front of the agent, whose hands had fallen from his face to rest on the sides of his neck.

Neo grabbed the leaves, before pouring them inside of the warm water, stirring it slightly by grabbing the bottom of the bowl and swishing the liquid inside around. "Drink." He demanded, before grabbing the rest of the leaves.

Smith forced himself not to make a face, but couldn't stop himself from looking down at the remedy in utter dissatisfaction. It tasted awful, to say the least, but he forced it down his throat, merely because he can't stand to be like this anymore. Not being able to breathe from his nose, or standing straight, feeling his head pounding, or retching over a toilet seat.

Neo had caught him every single time, and every single time, he found himself in his arms again and being pulled to his feet. He hated how weak he felt, how drained, and he especially hated it that he found himself enjoying having Neo's arms wrapped around him supportively.

Perhaps it was the illness induced brain making him think such things.

It is a widely known fact that Agents don't initiate physical contact outside of violence, or defending the Matrix; for years Smith had never felt a comforting touch, or a kind hand. Considering the fact that humans unconsciously desire such contact, could also be a reason why he was so desperate for it. His body starving for that delicate touch, or warming reassuring caress. The thought disgusted him, but it was hard denying basic human nature.

Pale spider-like fingers moved, touching the bottom round sides of the bowl before tightening his grip only slightly, bringing the remedy to his lips. He was surprised at how hot it was to the lips, seeing as it wasn't on the stove for really more than a few moments, Smith forced himself not to wince as he tilted the bowl.

Neo made it a point not to watch, he hated it when Trinity had done it to him. He knows that stuff tastes god-awful, and can only imagine what kind of faces the ex-agent was making. He wasn't sure what kinds he had made drinking that stuff, but it was weird enough to have Trinity double over.

There was a long silence, other than the occasional slurp he could make out.

"This taste's like a pine tree."

Neo couldn't stifle the chuckle that escaped his throat, turning to face the ex-agent. Smith was staring into the empty bowl in mild distaste before pushing it forward. "How much more must I suffer through this?" His voice sounded defeated, deflated almost.

"Few more days, till your fever wears down."

"It already has significantly, I see no reason to-"

"Smith." Neo said sternly, although a small smile was breaking his hardened facade. "It'll be over soon, besides, you'll thank me when you're not puking your guts out."

Smith made a face, "The complexity of humanoid verbal contexts evades my understanding significantly."

"You know what I meant," Neo grabbed the bowl placing it in the sink, "You should be feeling better soon. I know you're dying to get out of your room."

"I feel as if I've been living there my entire life, instead of a mere few months." Neo shrugged at his comment, leaning against the table. "Which reminds me, Mr. Anderson-"

"How many times must I tell you to call me Neo?" The hero questioned, an eyebrow quirked. Smith glared, eyes staring unwelcome holes into his face, but didn't respond, causing the taller male to groan. "You know, you're a bigger pain than you're worth."

"Evidentially, I'm worth more than I had originally anticipated." It didn't take two and two to figure out he was talking about Infectious. Zions pharmaceutical company.

Smith, in this retrospect, had been getting a lot of unwanted attention; from ungodly praise, to indifference, to downright pure unadulterated hatred. Both of them were sick of all of the above, especially from Infectious. The company has gone to all lengths to get their hands on the ex-agent, to the point of Morpheus's concern, having guards stand outside of Neo's door, just in case.

Neither one of them felt settled with the groups deep obsession, although Neo would be the first to notice that Smith was "Flattered," or at least as flattered as an ex-computer program could get, when he was receiving such appreciation, and respect from beings he couldn't quite understand. However, the feeling faded quickly to utter annoyance, and for once, Neo couldn't blame him.

"Don't get cocky," The hero muttered, although his voice was anything but accusing.

They stayed in relative silence for the most part, Neo straightened the place up, and could feel deep eyes staring through him. He brushed off the feeling, Smith could watch if he wanted, but he wished he wouldn't stare. It was unnerving being able to feel the gesture.

Neo could hear that Smith had begun speaking again, about? He didn't know. His focus was off, for whatever reason, again, he wasn't certain. His eating habits were fine, he got his whole eight hours of sleeping, not to mention he didn't have to exert himself like he did when the Matrix was still in control, and the machines were still a threat. Perhaps that lack of an adrenaline rush is what he was seriously in need of; a good heart pumping moment.

He bent over slightly, picking up his own messes, that steady voice ringing in his ears, but still not being able to make out a word of it. Perhaps if he listened hard enough he would catch a few things; he wanted to, he supposed, but found his mind distracted. Smith tended to ramble, perhaps it was best to tune him out, save for his morality be spared.

Neo's foot bumped slightly at the edge of a box in the other room, where he placed a few items. Neo looked at the box, and couldn't recognize it. He know's that it belongs there, however he's never given himself the chance to examine the crate. Like, for instance, what was inside of it.

Then again, did he really want to spoil the mystery? If there even was one to begin with. Could just be an empty box, or some old new's papers. Maybe, it has some of Trinity's old trinkets, and knick knacks she was always fascinated with. He once found an old photo, he wasn't sure where or when, but it was an old black and white one from the early 1900 late 1800. A group of four children, dancing in a small circle. He remembered how Trinity had sighed this content sigh, when she saw him holding it, "A time where children still played in the garden." He had asked her what garden, but she only ever smiled at him. A knowing smile.

Still confused him.

Neo was so lost in thought, that when he straightened his back, and turned around, he wasn't expected Smith to be so close, not to mention only a inch away from his face. Both of the males eyebrows shot up, eyes wide to the sudden surprise. Neo barely recalled hearing Smith stop talking, let along walk up to him.

His heart beat sped up exceptionally, to which he assured himself had to do with the sudden shock. 'There's that adrenaline you wanted,' Neo chuckled inwardly, before Smith did the wise thing and took a step back. A slight red tint to his cheeks. Neo seemed almost entrance by the sudden, very human reaction out of Smith, and began silently wondering what had happened to make that happen. He's been trying to get some sort of reaction out of the man almost sense when he had been allowed to wander the streets of Zion.

Needless to say his attempts never worked.

"You were not responding." Smith stated simply, regaining a bit of composure.

"Uh, sorry," Neo replied, "I was distracted, what were you saying?"

Smith gave him an insipid look, before opening his mouth, and closing it a moment later. He repeated the process about three times, before furrowing his brows together. "You were muttering to yourself, Mr. Anderson." A small smirked made its way to his lips, "I asked if you were in optimal mental health, and received no response."

Neo frowned at him, "Better mental health than you."

"Still using all the muscles except the one that matters?"

"Whatever you say, Wesker." He retorted, dragging out the name. That earned him a glare that could kill small animals and babies. Neo thought the entire ordeal was somewhat funny; Smith had always somewhat reminded him of that antagonist from Resident Evil, and well, he couldn't resist. Especially when Smith had no idea who that was, or as to why that was his 'nickname,' Going into the verse that Neo isn't the only one whose been taking a liking for the name.

Morpheus was just as guilty as he was.

Smith looked ready to snap an over sophisticated retort that could possibly leave the thick skulled man in tears, before something cut the shorter man off. His cheeks suddenly looked green as his hands flung to his mouth, shooting the smirk off of the taller man's face. A hand unconsciously grabbed the ex-agents shoulder, before quickly pulling the ill man to the wash room; Smith's face planted in the toilet seat in mere seconds.

Shoulders shaking violently, as pale arms clutched his own gut, eyes squeezed tight. Neo was hovering over his, a hand rubbing his back, as the other grabbed the man's growing hair out of his face; Neo reminded himself to get the man a hair cut at some point, but didn't dwell on the subject. The awful retching noises' crawled under the taller man's skin, and frowned deeply, eyebrows furrowing together with concern. Smith should have been recovering by now.

It most likely had a lot to do with the man's immune system being so weak, but this was ridiculous. It took perhaps a minute for Smith to finally get some sense of control over his body, leaning away from the toilet, arms shakily clutching himself.

Neo, wiped the man's face off, clutching the sides of his head and moved it so it would face him. Idle hands reached out and grasped his wrists, not in an attempt to remove them, but to get a better sense of who was with him, Smith utterly disoriented.

"Are you alright?" Neo said softly, concern written over his face with a hint of curious hesitation; Smith seemed to be struggling at keeping his eyes open, but was able to utter a hoarse 'Yes'. Neo took it for how it was, pulling his hands away from the man's face, before wrapping one arm around the man's waist, in an commendable attempt to pull him to his feet. There was no resistance, and the surprisingly light man was brought to his feet.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed." Neo stated softly, pulling an arm over his shoulder, holding the man steady. He didn't get a response, dragging the man to his bed near the front of the hallway, who was already asleep by the time his head it the pillow.

Neo would have chuckled, if his concern wasn't trying to swallow him whole.

He wasn't sure why he felt the need to mother him, or why he felt that he had to keep Smith safe, even from himself. This man was a menace, a monster, but Neo just couldn't see past the man's fragile facade. He was weak, and as defenceless as everyone else, he was just as human as everyone else. Like a child who was raised with less than decent parents, or wasn't cared for correctly.

Smith was just a malfunction, an agent with one too many abilities that the others didn't have. He had a mind of his own, and could think for himself if the situation need be; he was different. It wasn't his fault something went wrong in his programming, it was only his fault for how he treated the situation. Picking an outcasted virus who had the will to fight against everything and everyone, compelled to disobey; so much anger, so much hate, so much emotion. Perhaps that was why Neo felt so inclined to care for him.

Smith was different, and, in retrospect, so was Neo.

"Then you're aware of it?" -"Of what?" -"Our connection."

They were complete opposites, in two different worlds they had personalities that mashed and fixed together perfectly. Neo had been chosen to protect these people from a whisk of fate, and Smith had been chosen to destroy it. It was a matter of who and what were to occur, and they both played their parts exceptionally.

"You look surprised to see me, again, Mr. Anderson. That's the difference between us. I've been expecting you."

Neo's eyes dropped, watching as the ill man's shoulders shivered in his unconscious state. He wasn't sure why he had stepped forward, and he wasn't sure why he grabbed the man's blanket and covered him, nor why he felt this deep urge to run his fingers through the man's disheveled hair, but refrained himself from doing the last part. Instead, after the blanket dropped over the man's body, Neo decided it would be wise to take his leave, keeping the door cracked open slightly.

Yeah, they may be different. But it's the difference, Neo supposed, why he wasn't willing to let someone so similar to himself suffer.

"It was Inevitable."

Took long enough, eh? I finally got around to posting it, and I really hope it was worth the long wait ^^ I swear the next chapter will not take nearly as long as it took for this chapter to be uploaded. And sick Agent Smith is cute- at least I belive so. Thank you all for reading, I hope you all enjoyed, and don't forget to review~! LLAP