Fading
Summary: A Sarah POV one-shot. Cameron rallies a tired John and Sarah to keep fighting.
Rated: G
Season: Any - meant to fit anywhere.
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I don't own TSCC.
A/N: Hey everyone! Here is my very first TSCC story. I can't believe they cancelled the show. It's one of my favorites. Fingers crossed that they will reconsider. Thanks so much for reading and hope you enjoy this one-shot, Sarah's POV.
000
We are tired. We have been running for a very long time now. Always moving, never settling in one spot long enough for reprieve. Never long enough to forget how to leave. If we ever found some magical place where Skynet was no longer a threat, I wonder if we'd be physically capable of just staying put, or would we move on anyway? Will we be nomads forever, destined to wander the earth alone?
The diner we've stopped at is like all the others we've eaten at over the years. Same quiet people who mind their own business, same red and white checkered curtains on the windows, same menu.
John looks like he's fading. Sometimes I think our fight is futile, and I wonder what he will become by the end of it. Will he be the same John Connor that leads a resistance and inspires ordinary people to become super heroes? Will he still be the epitome of justice and morality? Is he giving up?
Cameron looks at the two of us with annoyance, though I'm sure she would deny the emotion. I ignore her and her inability to grow weary and turn back to my menu.
"You have to be stronger," she states matter-of-factly.
I lift my head to glare at her, but it takes me a moment to realize that she's not talking to John and me. She has her head tilted to one side as she contemplates the waitress that has come to take our order. I can almost see her calculating the degree of severity of the girl's black eye, how much force was used, how much time has passed based on the colouring of the bruising. How much force the girl could have used in return - given her height and muscle mass, but, for whatever reason, did not.
The girl ignores Cameron and turns her eyes to me. "Can I take your order?"
"Pancakes. And coffee, please." I offer her a small smile to soften Cameron's words.
"Same for me," John says.
"Me too," Cameron says, still looking at the poor girl as one would examine a math problem.
The girl walks away quickly, and I have a feeling that a different waitress will be bringing our food.
"You shouldn't have bothered her," I chide Cameron half-heartedly.
"She needed to be bothered," Cameron's quizzical eyes turn to me. "She showed no signs of resistance or counter-attack. She allowed herself to be overpowered. She shouldn't do that. "
"You been watching Dr. Phil again?" John asks while using sugar packets to build a shaky little house. We've both seen her sitting resolutely through every episode she can – a full hour with her head tilted to one side, her spine ramrod straight as she absorbs every detail, including the final credits.
"Yes," Cameron's gaze turns unblinking to John as his sugar packet house falls to a heap. "Dr. Phil understands that it is important for humans to be strong for each other. Every relationship needs someone to step up and be a hero. I can help her. She needs to get excited about her life."
I would laugh, but I don't. Sometimes I think I forget to be concerned for the well-being of others. I've focused so hard for so long on protecting John and humanity's future, that I don't always remember the present and the pain of others.
Cameron leaves us to sit on a counter stool on the other side of the room and teach our waitress self-defence and self-respect in one sitting. John rolls his eyes, returning his focus to his pile of sugar packets. He turns the little pile of rubble into a little house once again. It still looks shaky to me.
I wonder how much longer we'll be running. What wearies me more though is not the running, but knowing that once the running is over, there will probably be an outright war – face-to-face, no backing down until it is finished, if it will ever be finished.
I slouch even further over my pancakes as I pour syrup over them in a slow drizzle. I don't feel like a hero today. I don't feel strong at all. But then I look over to where Cameron is showing the waitress how to throw a punch, and I sit a little straighter. The light that was fading inside me begins to grow again.
Maybe Cameron is right. Maybe if every relationship held in this entire world had at least one hero who did not grow weary, one who would stand up for what was right every single time, maybe our fight would not take so long or cost us so much. If we fight together, the burden would rest on many pairs of shoulders, not just one. Then, maybe it will be as the doctor has also said: some of the most tragic, hurtful events cause people to rise from the ashes and say, "I will not succumb." If that is the case, then, maybe someday, humanity will be a towering fortress that overshadows the tumbled pile of ashes that Skynet has become. A pile of ashes that no one will try to rebuild ever again.
000
The End