John Connor runs. Yesterday he was fated to run. Tomorrow he will be fated to fight the technological Hekatonkheires; he will be the David to Skynet's Goliath. Today though, today he is fated to save, and as he runs again –not away but toward- he can see her clearly in his head.
Her. He left her three years ago, dead, or whatever word applies to her particular condition. The images of something he actually never witnessed firsthand seem real and fresh in his mind.
She sits on the chair, impassive, utmost determination held up by single-minded focus and that absolute adoration he now knows she feels –no, he corrects himself- she felt that since forever. Perhaps not forever, but she felt it since the moment he handed her the gun, pointed toward him, while she sat in that ruined car waiting to be turned into smoke. Now he knows.
As he runs through the corridors of Zeira corp.'s basement, John feels like they close upon him, a claustrophobic tightening he knows is nothing more than a feeling created by his sense of urgency. He cannot be late by one instant, lest everything he did is turned futile. Months over months of fighting, of loneliness, all for nothing and that is something that simply will not stand. Adrenaline courses through his body like electricity, as vital in this moment as the very blood that carries it. His mind is a stampede of thoughts. Haste, consequences, a burning pain in his legs that he ignores because it was just yesterday that he was fated to run, and again, thoughts of her.
She puts the switchblade, her switchblade to her skull, and then starts marring what is left of her perfect face. That face he now also knows where it came from, up to the minutest detail. Allison Young. The girl turned woman and soldier because of Judgment day, who was capable of doing so much more with that exact same face than Cameron could. At the same time though, unable to convey as much as Cameron can, or perhaps he is just accustomed to the machine, his mind tainted, invaded by her as his mother and uncle always feared.
That and everything else does not matter anymore, the door is within his sight now. The door. The last barrier between him and her, and while he reaches to grasp the handle with fingers shaking from the nervous wreckage his mind has become, he repeats her name in his mind. A tireless litany, the mantra of his life that kept him moving forward for three years in the Hades Skynet so kindly created for them all.
Before the turn of the handle is over, a hand comes to his shoulder reminding him that today he does not run alone. Catherine Weaver is there with him, and the expression in her face reminds him he is not the only one who has learned, grown, and longed. They nod to each other, and this is all the communication they now require, for the two are comrades, even friends now. They had to grow into that partnership, painfully; every step gained in their relationship has been gained through hardships. The adversities of a Skynet ruled world added to their personal feelings clashing.
John does not regret it, after all the best things are built with hard work. His mother, Sarah Connor, taught him this and a myriad of things more, for which today he is eternally grateful.
He finishes turning the handle, Catherine Weaver leaves toward the stairs. She has the undesirable task of recounting their tale while he gets to be the big damn hero.
Upon entering the room, he finds exactly what he saw in his head a moment before; Cameron has sliced her scalp, ready to open the CPU port. She is about to hand over her essence, her very soul to a stranger, under the complete belief that this is the best thing she can do for her charge. Perhaps she is right –or was right all along- and it was exactly what necessity called for. This he does not understand, but he accepts the fact that her sacrifice might have brought a greater good.
Cameron and John Henry voice his name practically in unison. The motion of her hand stops, and the immediate crisis is thus adverted. Even if only for an instant, John relates his sense of triumph to a certain videogame, the one starring a little kid with pointy ears and green pixie hat. He obtained the Master-sword, and saved the princess. Even if she used to be princess of the very kingdom he will one day seek to destroy, she belongs to him.
An easy smile comes to his lips, not entirely honest for he is not sure what to feel right then. He walks toward a Cameron whose remaining human eye is wide open fully displaying a beautiful brown iris, her pink glossy lips parted ever so slightly. Indicators of mild surprise in anyone else, but in her they are the signs of unfathomable surprise.
He stretches a tentative hand toward hers, and places it on top in an attempt to ease her, let her know that the need for such a sacrifice is no longer imperative. The feeling is like nothing else he has ever experienced. It is just her hand, and he even touched Allison's in the future, but the burning fire spreading from his chest to every corner of his body does not come simply from the physical contact. It is something intrinsic too, fueled by his longing for her, and the awful regret he felt at neglecting her for so long.
Before continuing with the mission, John lingers for a moment, reveling on the sensation of the warm, smooth skin beneath his fingertips.
Then he turns the same easy smile he had when entering the room towards John Henry. It serves as much as an amiable greeting as to conceal his nervousness. Without any more preambles, he pulls a Terminator CPU from his pocket and carefully puts it on the table, right in front of the AI. The chip is to become the anti-Skynet's temporary dueling while they need to be on the move, staying below the Kaliba radar for a while. It is also the thing that forced him to stay for so long in the post-Judgment day future. John came to understand there how important an intelligence of Skynet's stature would be, even if it would not turn the tables for them, it could tip them enough to abbreviate the war. Saving hundreds of thousands of lives and sparing them years of suffering in the process.
As always, it all comes down to time. John Connor's has always been scarce and too valuable, something he has always hated. Cupping Cameron's metal cheek with one hand, he gently runs his thumb over the smooth metal, wiping away some blood from the injuries sustained earlier in the day while breaking his mother out of jail. He wonders if he will ever get over the guilt of allowing so much harm to come her way, just because he ordered her not to kill anyone. Barring the fact that it cost her half a face, there is still the internal damage to account for.
Right then, while his hand still lingers on her face, Cameron looks slightly to one side and tells him she is not one hundred percent, and his heart sinks to his feet. In an attempt to take her away from that, as much as to redeem himself, he pulls her by an arm and speaks the phrase. The one that is almost a family heirloom, just because he knows it will dispel every doubt she might have about his presence there; just because he wants to be the one saying it for once, especially if it is to her.
"Come with me if you want to live."
With great pride, even joy he notices the irony is not lost in the cyborg girl. She gives him the faintest ghost of a smile with her ever-pouting lips. It suffices, he does not, and will not ask for anything more. He knows Cameron well enough to acknowledge the meaning and complex ramifications behind that smile. John would like nothing more than to remain in the moment forever, frozen in time gazing at her, but they are already wasting away precious seconds.
It is time to run again, and when he starts, Cameron follows immediately, unquestioning. As they close into the corridor leading to the exit, John notices for the first time in minutes that Cromartie's former body is once again mobile and already catching up to them. Running in a very amusing way, John does not fail to observe. It is quite apparent that John Henry –obviously used to quite the sedentary life in that small room- has been forced into learning how to run on a moment's notice.
Upon turning the last corner before the final stretch, they immediately find the door leading to the basement's parking blocked by Catherine Weaver. His Catherine Weaver as John gladly notices when she smiles at him.
The T-1001 informs him that Kaliba has brought a small army and a fraction of it awaits them beyond the door. The Zeira corp. building is under siege. The news does not affect him in the least though, and when Cameron makes a move to advance, he restrains her by the wrist with all his might, as if holding to a lifeline. When she turns to look at him with a piercing gaze, the one she uses to scold him, he merely shakes his head, adding then a mischievous smile when he motions toward the exit. Catherine Weaver is already walking through the door.
Never minding the twenty fully automatic machineguns pointed at her, her gait remains that of a model. Relaxed, long strides that somehow convey all the pride he knows is always overflowing from the T-1001. It falls in cascades around her and marks everything she does.
John identifies a certain moment as Catherine Weaver walks towards the army, a fleeting instant that will be marked as their one and last fatal mistake. Since they do not know what she is, the men do not open fire immediately or even remotely in time to stand a chance of holding her at bay. He and the T-1001 were counting on it. Even Greys would still find difficulty in simply going ahead and opening fire against a lone unarmed woman. One of the soldiers yells something over a radio, possibly asking how to proceed. Humans usually forego common sense, and they should have this time, because it will become their doom.
When Catherine Weaver's arms turn into smooth glistening blades and she lunges towards them, they immediately open fire. Too late. By the next heartbeat, there is absolute chaos, and within a sea of screams, flying bloody limbs and scurrying soldiers, a pair of perfect silvery blades dance. His wit immediately comes up with a name for the ringleader of the gruesome spectacle. Blade dancer.
There is a certain beauty to what she is doing. A task carried with such grace can always be seen as something beautiful. Still, John cannot help the bad feeling in his gut, realizing that three years ago he would have abhorred what the T-1001 is doing. He would have felt revolted even. Not anymore. Three years in hell can do that to you, and so the feeling in his stomach remains nothing more than a slight tug to his conscience.
A couple minutes later, it is all over. Almost literally, Catherine Weaver stands on a mountain of corpses. In spite of his change, John knows he will have to keep reminding himself that those men were traitors to the entire human race. Quite possibly, he will need to teach that to John Henry too, as he looks quite distraught.
The liquid metal Terminator walks back to them, after dispatching an army of men with grace and determination. John now knows that she does not follow a set of programmed missions, just like Cameron. He knows that at least this Catherine Weaver –the one that carries three years of experience and tribulation, like him- follows a personal code, tailored from her own sense of love and devotion. The whole picture of the fallen men, added to what he sees in the T-1001 walking gracefully towards them, invokes an idea into his mind. Perhaps, just perhaps, she would like a call sign, and maybe he has just the thing, because she does somehow resemble the Goddess Athena.
As they walk through the underground parking lot, the tender warmth in his hand makes him realize something. He has been holding Cameron's hand all the time. His gaze bounces nervously between her hand and her face, but it is all dispelled when he sees that ghost of a smile adorning her face. He knows it is not any infiltrator smile, and barely visible as it may be, it is Cameron's own, true smile.
The day just keeps getting better and better for him.
Soon enough they are leaving the vicinity of Zeira corp. in a couple of Zeira corp. employee vehicles they commandeered. John and Cameron ride one, his Catherine Weaver and John Henry the other. His mother and Mr. Ellison remain inside the building in order to reenact their original escape. John himself, three years younger, and the younger Catherine Weaver stay back to travel again in time. Being the principal instigators of the current discombobulation in the time stream, they must make the trip to the future, in order to avoid the fabric of time to readjust and collapse. Or maybe they will just appear in the future and become doppelgangers; perhaps they will just end up turned into neutrinos, lost in utter nothingness. Who knows? Time travel is quite complicated when you create paradoxes like these, but in any case, they need to make the trip just to be on the safe side, and try to keep the flow of time intact. At least that is the theory, and he would rather stick to it, than suffer some dire consequences.
He and Cameron travel in absolute silence, it is something almost suffocating, and still he finds it somewhat relieving. John does not know what to say, how to answer if she asks, because his brain right now is brimming with chaos, close to the point of hurting. His mind is a train wreck but he does not particularly care for that, because she is here with him now. Everything will start improving from this point.
There is one thought reining the chaos in his mind; he does not, and will not care for anything else, at least for this day. Not the world, not Skynet, not humanity. Saviors and leaders are entitled to at least one day completely off the job, and if someone disagrees, he will make him or her eat dirt. Because if such is not the case, he has just decided, it should be.
The thought keeping him in equilibrium, is the girl sitting on the passenger side. She is the crowning achievement of a journey across time, and the very thought makes a smile creep into his face. Because put like that, it sounds like one of those great epics of old.
John hopes she will accept everything he has prepared. Soon enough he is going to give everything he has to the beautiful princess next to him, and he knows she is unable to return it right then. It does not matter though, he will wait for her –he will walk with her every step of the way- if she wants, accepts his plan. In all those years spent in the future, speaking with John Henry, who kept her entire persona intact, John learned so much about the inner workings of Cameron's mind. He knows she can grow into a being far beyond what she is right now. As a person, as a human even. So he knows the time will come when she returns everything he will give her this evening, if she accepts him first. He hopes she will.
Upon arriving at the front of a luxurious hotel, Cameron speaks for the first time since her proclamation of not being a hundred percent.
"What are we doing here? Are we not going to rendezvous with the others?"
"No, there is something very important I need to speak to you about." Is his response, and perhaps she detects the tentativeness in his tone. The time has come and there is a trepidation coming up his chest. Cameron never compromises when something disagrees from what she considers the appropriate course of things. Mostly, everything related to the mission and its proper execution.
The girl tilts her head to one side, the cute mannerism he has missed so much. "So talk," she then deadpans.
"Not here, inside. Would… Would you come with me?" His voice finds a bump when going out of his throat, he also sounds more wistful than he ever intended. He knows Cameron does not take hesitation lightly and she might just call off the whole thing right there, and then drag him to regroup with his mother and commit to the mission.
Much to his surprise, even after sticking his foot in his mouth, she acquiesces.
John gets off the car in hastily, and practically running goes to open the door for her. When she steps down, grabbing onto his unnecessary extended hand, he notices she eyes him up and down. John cannot quite put the finger on whether it is curiosity, or her particular brand of scoff. Still he drags Cameron from one arm, and she allows him. When they get to the front desk, the woman there gapes at the cyborg. Fortunately this is not outside the contingencies John has planned for.
"She wants to lie down because she's tired, and damn it we still have hours of filming just for this scene." In saying so, John mages to pull the clerk back to earth. "Artists," he then adds in pretend huff when the woman's attention is back on him. Giving an overly emphasized eye roll, and then smiling to the clerk, he pulls his cellphone from his pants pocket. John dials a number and then hands the device to the woman, who again looks surprised, obviously not used to all this eccentricity.
Catherine Weaver is in the other side of the line, and she follows his plan to the letter. The clerk turns to mush after some seconds of talk, and then hangs up. She then returns John's phone, turns to the keycard rack behind her, and handing him one, she offers to call a bellhop to carry any luggage they might have.
John politely declines, and marches towards the elevators with Cameron in tow. The time of reckoning is upon him, and its effects show no delay in appearing and wreaking havoc on him. A slight sweat appears in his brow; his heart for some reason thinks it needs to double the speed of blood flow through his body, racing like a runaway horse. His throat is drying quicker than desert sand, forcing him to swallow heavily.
All of that, to his dismay but not so much surprise, Cameron notices. She does it with nothing but his wellbeing in mind, he knows it, but right now the thing he needs the least, is to feel her delicate hand touching his nape. John knows it is just a scan, nevertheless her delicate fingers, a bit colder than he is right then, stir every nerve ending on his body. It threatens to make all the feelings he has so capably kept in thus far, burst out and engulf her like wild fire. Consume her right there, in that elevator, the consequences be damned.
No. Such is not his plan, the offering he wants to present for her. She deserves it in full, and he will resist his urges until the right time comes. Because after all, what are minutes, hours even, after waiting for this moment so long?
More calmed now, partly after receiving a lengthy lecture from his cyborg protector about his health, John grabs Cameron's arm and tows her again, down a beautifully carpeted corridor.
Now is the time of reckoning. Any doubts and any fears placated as best as possible. John Connor reins in the Grand General's powers, and putting an arm around Cameron's slim, yet firm shoulders, he takes them both through the room's door.