Due to the overwhelming amount of positive feedback I got for my last NeoTrin piece (seriously, those reviews made my decade, you're all amazing, I love you all), I've decided to finally let this piece see the virtual light of day. It's a sick!fic, which I have been known to crave like a hormonal teenager craves chocolate. I'm kind of hyperventilating now just imagining people's reactions, but I'm publishing it anyway because I need to get over my hang-ups about my work. Without further ado, enjoy!

A warm, fluid weight presses down on her body from every angle, surrounding her. She struggles to open her eyes under the pressure, and her first thought is that she's blind. All she can see is a dull, dim reddish blur. What…? She tries to sit up, but can't; there are things – tubes, wires– tethering her in place, trapping her. It takes a few more seconds for her to realise where she is, and when the truth hits, a sensation of pure horror washes over her.
No. Not here, not again, no… She reaches out a hand to try to tear her way to freedom the way she had to before, but the thin slimy membrane has been replaced by a sheet of thick opaque glass, impossible for her weak muscles to break through. She wants to scream, but the thick metal tube in her throat won't even grant her that. The best she can manage is a muffled, choking cry of terror as her mind surrenders to raw panic.
No. I got out of here before, and I can do it again. She wriggles, pounding against the glass with all of her strength, crying out, sobbing as she realises that it's no good, she's going to be trapped forever.
Trinity…! A voice in the darkness, distant and faint but unmistakable. Neo… She tries to call for him, but it's all she can do to breathe properly now. Neo, I'm in here! God, help me!
Trin, you need to wake up… I'm trying. She's weakening again, being dragged back into unconsciousness, probably due to some sedative that the Machines are pumping into her, and she knows that it's now or never. She fights back with everything she's got, which isn't ever going to be enough. Her fists beat weakly against the glass, which surprisingly, impossibly, shatters under the attack. This is it. She begins the painful task of freeing herself from the many wires and tubes, gagging painfully on the one in her throat. But she welcomes the pain. It means freedom at last. But just as she's adjusting to the air again, pulling in ragged, burning breaths, a Machine looms over her, and she knows without thinking that it's going to kill her.
Come on, Trinity. You're dreaming. It raises a vicious-looking appendage and strikes, aiming directly for her heart –

Trinity jerked upright, unable to hold back the scream that rose in her throat. Almost immediately a pair of soothingly familiar arms wrapped around her, and Neo held her close. She was shaking violently, and her thin cotton top was clinging to her body, but she'd never felt more grateful for his touch. He stroked her hair, murmuring words of comfort.

"Ssh," he breathed, and it took her a moment to realise she was still sobbing out loud. "It's okay, you're okay." She nodded, burying her face in his neck, trying to quell the shaking that still swept through her body in unforgiving waves. Why is it so cold in here? He seemed to sense what she was feeling, and pulled her even closer. She dared to fully open her eyes, and the scene that greeted her was so comfortingly safe and normal that she almost started crying again. They were at home, or as close to it as they could get, in Zion, a safe place. The blankets were strewn across the floor, and she guessed that that was her doing.

"You kept crying out," Neo explained, once again seeming to read her thoughts. "And then it looked like you were fighting something off."

"I was back there," she whispered, voice cracking a little. "Back in that pod…wires…" Speaking was an effort, but he seemed to understand her.

"And…there was this Machine…and it…" Nausea struck like a punch to the stomach and she tore herself away from him, just making it to the bathroom before her legs gave out, clinging grimly to the sink as agonizing heaves ripped through her. Neo was behind her in an instant, holding her up, smoothing her hair out of her eyes. Part of her hated that he had to be the one witnessing this, but the rest of her felt too awful to really care.

"Get out of here," she mumbled during a brief pause, doing her best to shoulder him away. He fielded all of her efforts with ease, but drew back obediently when the next wave struck.

"God…" she choked out, cautiously lifting her head again after a few more minutes. "This is…" She let out a tiny, frustrated sigh when words failed her, digging her fingers into the rim of the sink.

"Forget about it," he said lightly, interpreting her incoherence as mere embarrassment. "You've seen me do the same thing." She shook her head expressively.

He gently rubbed her lower back, which somehow helped the sickness to pass a little. It was still several minutes before she was positive that nothing else was coming up. Exhausted by the effort she'd exerted, she let herself fall back against Neo's chest, breathing heavily. He lowered her to the tiled floor and stroked her damp forehead, a gesture that never failed to calm her down, despite the fact that tonight his fingers felt icy against her skin.

"Jesus…" he murmured, and there was a tone in his voice that she immediately didn't like. "You're burning up, Trin."

"I'm okay," she replied immediately, more of a self-reassurance than anything else, given that she'd never felt further from okay in her life. He didn't buy it anyway, merely sighing sympathetically as he passed her a cup of water. She took it gratefully, eager to rid her mouth of the bitter, acidic taste.

"Come on," he said at last, taking her arm to help her off of the floor. A rush of dizziness cascaded over her as soon as she stood, and she would have fallen had it not been for him holding her upright. It was the work of a dazed few minutes to slip off her damp top and exchange it for a new one, and the work of a few seconds for her to crawl back between the still-warm sheets. In spite of her earlier nightmares, she was grateful to be back in bed again. She had no idea what time it was, but she was too tired now to care. Neo sat beside her, features etched with concern as he watched her eyes open and close.

"Sleep," he whispered. Suddenly gripped with a childish fear that her nightmare would return, she groped for his hand in the half-light.

"Don't leave." She hated to beg him, but anything was better than returning to that alien, claustrophobic Hell again, even if it was merely a nightmare. He nodded, and bent down to place a kiss on her forehead. He started to hum under his breath, and she finally allowed herself to stop fighting and drift into darkness.

Those of you who do not wish to hear Neo's mental babbling about the state of the world are free to get off of this crazy train at this stop. Thank you for taking the time to read this, feedback would be immensely helpful. If you're curious, feel free to read the next chapter too. Feedback would be even more helpful there.