Chapter 1

"You're terminated, fucker."

Sarah Connor sat spent with the awful hand on her shoulder for a minute before pushing herself gingerly to one foot and hopped to the battered form on the ground. Kyle Reese was bloodied, broken and just barely alive. The explosion had caused just as much damage as the wounds he'd come into the factory with. He was bleeding from just about everywhere. His eyes were closed. Blood had dropped onto the lids. She raised a shaking hand to his face, wiping some of the blood away. The lids never moved.

"Kyle?" A frightened pause. "Kyle?" Closed eyes made no recognition. A gentle shake. Nothing. The sirens were louder now. Sarah just curled up next to Kyle listening to the very faint heartbeat and waited, fearing every second that Kyle wasn't going to make it.

The stretcher arm snapped into place as they wheeled her off. It seemed to be moving in slow motion as EMTs worked frantically to get Kyle stabilized and to the hospital, in another stretcher. "Male, late twenties, Caucasian. Multiple gun shots, multiple lacerations, possible head trauma," the EMTs explained to each other as they worked. Hoping the female found with him knew they asked Sarah, "What's his name? Does he have any allergies? Blood type?" She just couldn't answer; she only knew the answer to one. Only managing to whisper his name before they pulled her into another ambulance. The ride to the hospital seemed to last forever and only shock and exhaustion kept her from saying Kyle's name over and over. She was signed in to a room and waited rather impatiently to be seen. She had some paperwork to do, but just stared blankly as the pages in front of her. The nurses took pity and tried to help her fill it out, but she wasn't really there. Clearly whether or not she had insurance could wait. Her leg needed stitches and was possibly broken, but that was nothing to Sarah. Kyle was right there! He was alive and nobody was telling her what was going on! Panic was edging its way into her mind when the doctor finally came in.

"Good news, looks like a couple of stitches and a good night's rest should be all you need. I'll send the nurse in to take care the stitches." He turned to go, but was stopped. "The guy that came in with me, Kyle Reese. How is he? Where is he?"

She was trying to stay calm, composed. Trying so hard not to panic and scream at everyone. The Terminator was dead. She killed it. Kyle was still alive. He had to be here and was going to be fine. She was not going to panic. That wouldn't help anything. The doctor looked confused for a second and said, "I didn't realize you knew him, but I'll try and get an update for you."

After what seemed like an eternity, after all she had already been stitched up when the doctor finally returned. His face was concerned when finally spoke. "Is there any family I can have contacted for Mr. Reese?"

"No. It's just me and him," hoping he wouldn't ask any further questions.

"Well he has second degree burns on both his legs, several gunshot wounds and was lacerated multiple places with metal shrapnel. Apparently a few of which severed an artery and a major vein. He may have also received a severe concussion. There are some signs of bleeding in his brain. He has been in surgery for the last two hours, but it looks like he's in a coma. He's lucky to be alive at all," the doctor completed in mild amazement. "What happened?"

Sarah had been dreading this question since she found herself in the hospital bed. "There was an explosion. Gas truck." Simple. Easily explained most of their injuries. Vague. She just hoped the cops would buy it too; there was a gas truck explosion not far from the factory. The doctor nodded and turned to go. "Can I see him?"

He shook his head. "He's still in surgery. I'll come get you when they're done. In the meantime I suggest you get some sleep," with a gesture towards the bed and left.

Sleep seemed like an impossible dream, but she curled up in the bed and tried to sleep. He's going to be okay. He'll be fine. He's going to be okay…

With a snap her eyes popped open. A nurse was in the room checking on the other patient. The noise of her rattling the patient's chart must have been what woke her. As soon as she could get the nurse's attention she asked, "Can I see Kyle Reese?"

"Let me see," was all the answer she got. The nurse scurried off, hopefully to get her doctor since he promised to get her when Kyle could see her. Or she could at least see Kyle, if he'd not woken up yet. She laid on the bed listening to the beeps and whirrs of the machines hooked up to the patient next to her in silent contemplation of machine that had just tried to kill her and yet there was a machine next to her saving someone's life. This was not helping her sudden distaste for machines. Even the benign machine next to her was making her nervous, like any moment it was going to wake up and reach for her with those awful red eyes. An hour later the doctor finally returned with a wheelchair and a gentle expression.

"You've been asleep for so long we were worried you had gone into a coma too," he said jokingly. She looked at him with wild eyes. "You've been asleep almost twenty four hours. Looks like you really needed it." The he wheeled her off to see Kyle.

"He's in really bad shape," the doctor said, stopping at the door. "We're not sure if he'll even wake up. I just don't want you to get upset." The door was opened.

She had understood Kyle was severely injured. She had wiped blood from his eyes at the factory, but this… At the factory she could believe he would just get up and start running again. Hooked up to all the machines and covered in bandages was worse. It was real. He wasn't going to get up and start running again. She held back the threatening tears. He's going to wake up; she repeated her mantra a few more times and then rolled up to his bed and took his hand.

She didn't move for hours. The nurses came and went with no change. Her discharge papers written up. The police came and asked her questions. She gave the same vague story and hoped they would be satisfied. If they had any doubts all they had to do was scour the behind the factory to find the remains of the truck. The remembrance of running from that truck made her tired. She wondered how she could possibly run fast enough to get away from it. The nurse offered her some food and Sarah tried to eat knowing she needed the food, but only succeeded in moving it around the plate. Her wheel chair was changed for the less comfortable chair in the room, and still no change.

Another day. Sarah got a real breakfast in the hospital cafeteria feeling hungry for the first time in a day or two. Since Kyle came into her life. Then skipped lunch. She was holding Kyle's hand, probably too tightly, repeating her mantra so many times she forgot to be hungry. Falling asleep in the chair, still gripping his hand was all that was left.

That day turned into another. And another. Finally a week had passed. No change. The bandages had been changed out; some of his wounds were almost healed. The rest of the coma and regular nutrition was doing wonders for his ability to heal. Sarah, on the other hand, had change find her and noticed she smelled. Her clothes were the same she had been wearing when Kyle found her and they were filthy with dirt and grease from her ordeal. She found a motel nearby and got herself and nice long shower. She screwed up her courage and took a cab to her and Ginger's old apartment. After all that happened she would never live there again. The crime tape, already gone. The bodies removed and blood cleaned. Still the carnage remained. The broken door, the smashed glass. Sarah held her breath and ran into the bedroom. She grabbed the nearest duffel bag and stuffed all she could fit into it then swiftly walked out the door not thinking to lock it. No one would want to go in there. And nothing there held value for Sarah, that life was gone.

The motel room was to become her home as another week passed with no change. Then a month. Money was becoming a little thin as she passed her days only at the hospital. She finally remembered to call her mother. She's going to be pissed, she thought dropping her coin into the payphone. No answer, so she left the phone number to her motel and said she spent most of her days at the hospital nearby. "A friend was in an accident." That's a nice way of putting it, she thought bitterly.

A few days later a kindly looking sheriff deputy brought the bad news about her mother. She thanked him and then crumpled face first into Kyle's bed, burying her face in the sheets. The sobbing lasted an hour. Finally spent. There would be no more tears left in her. She fell asleep right there without moving her face from the tears staining the bed.

Another week passed and she finally made the trip to her mother's cabin to put some cash together. And straighten up the place. Kyle would like it, she thought. Secluded. Easily defensible and then there was the woods in full bloom of summer. This is where she would take him when he wakes up. She even stopped at a mall on her way back to pick out some clean clothes for him. She never doubted he would wake up.

Another month found Sarah deeply engrossed in some military book. She was trying to learn to be a good solider for both Kyle and John. This passage about how to assess a potential threat she thought was be an important part of a self-defense class as she thought how wrong she had been about the potential threat to her life. A strangled groan issued from the nearby bed. Sarah bolted to the bed just in time to see his eyelids flicker and open. "Sarah?" Barely a whisper. She smiled and gripped his hand in both of hers and brought it to her lips. Her eyes were moist, but there were no tears. Not anymore.

"We won," she said. No other words were needed. Relief filled his face. The silent peaceful welcoming gaze lasted until the nurse on her rounds found him awake and alert. A doctor was called, questions asked that he couldn't or didn't want to answer. Finally, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay." Well he wasn't okay, but to admit less would be a sign of weakness. If it wasn't going to kill him it wasn't worth mentioning. It would mean he wasn't able to complete his mission. He was eager to get back to the mission. He needed to get to a secluded place, so they could lay low. No other threat would get the jump on them again.

A doubting doctor said, "Well if you need anything let us know."

The healing ribs ached painfully every time he moved or breathed. His head felt like, well, he'd been hit with a metal arm and he had the impression he was going to need to learn to be right handed, his shoulder hurt so bad. But he was alive. Sarah was alive. He was fine.

They were finally afforded what little privacy an ICU room provides. The nurses gone back to rounds, the doctor seeing his other patients, the next door neighbor in a morphine induced sleep. Sarah leaned in close and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. One of the few places that she knew was completely healed. To Kyle she looked afraid to touch more than his hand. So he held out his good arm in invitation, needing to have her close. She wouldn't refuse such an invitation and curled up into the tiny bed next to him.

"I'm not hurting you?"

"No. It's fine." She might have believed him if he hadn't winced when she turned to look at him. He smiled thinly anyway, just happy to have to her near. Willing to put up with the discomfort to have her in his arms again. It felt like it'd be a long time since he'd held her.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." So she tried to be still and lightly rest her head in the crook of his good arm. There was plenty to talk about. Money was running out again. She was made aware that she hadn't had a period since weeks before all this happened. Where they should go. If her mother's cabin was enough for now. But it could wait. He was finally awake. It has taken nearly three months, but he was back. He couldn't believe it had been that long. When she told him, he has hugged her tighter to him, understanding why it felt like he hadn't held her. All the pain was gone the minute she kissed him. He had missed her picture for weeks till he came through the time machine. Now having the real thing, it worked even better for disconnecting the pain. Instead of feeling pain, he felt warmth in his heart.

Recovery was going well. He's slept through most of the worst pain and healing. So it wouldn't be long before he could leave, but the doctors wanted to watch him a little longer. He needed to do some exercises to work out his shoulder, if he ever hoped to use it normally again. He slept erratically. A few hours at a time before snapping awake. The strange environment and the nightmare he had been living, kept him from sleeping soundly, so the nurses would sometimes help him. He never liked it though. The scenes of destruction, death and despair from his life played over and over when he closed his eyes. The drugs didn't help that. It just made them last longer, if that was possible. All this made sleep an unpleasant but necessary evil. He had had only one night's rest without nightmares since he was a little boy and instead of fear waking him, Sarah had woken him. Running a light touch over his side. Tickling she called it. He smiled wistfully at that memory. He hadn't liked being tickled, but the look on her face when he had woken, was worth the torture. He wished she was there.

Sarah had taken a job at a local diner to get some money coming in a few weeks earlier. She hated to leave him alone like that, but it was necessary. She had to think of being able to buy food and any other supplies he might need. He already had a decent wardrobe put together, as getting him clothes made Sarah feel hopeful. But if he wanted to get any weapons, or ingredients to make more plastik, she needed money. She left books with him so he could try and learn about the time in which he was stuck. The history of wars between nations and racism made little sense to him. Humans had bigger things to worry about in his time. The only interspecies warring was over supplies. Food would get people killed, but it was rare. It was much more important to share everything. Humanity had to survive the machines. Racism was gone. As was sexism. He was surprised to learn that women were not allowed to fight in the military and only to provide support. In his time they fought alongside the men, shared the same woes. The only women that didn't were usually pregnant and even then they helped with medical or distribution until they gave birth. Human equality would be the one good thing that came out of a war with the machines.

Sarah loved to smuggle food into the hospital for him. The mystery of hot dogs, the sweetness of apple pie and one good steak were all part of this new cuisine she loved to share with him. His confusion of hot dogs had made it one of the first things she had brought him from the diner. "There's no actual dog in it. It's just ground meat. Mostly beef I think."

"You think?"

"Hey there's no dog in it. I know that. If we were in Mexico or something, I couldn't promise that, but other than that. It's a mystery what exactly goes into hot dogs." He was shocked that anyone would eat something and not know what it is. Even bigger a surprise was her look of complete satisfaction as bit into the dog. "Mmm. I've been craving one of these for months." The shock on his face made Sarah laugh so hard she nearly squirted her drink out her nose. "Just try it!" With a wary look he took a bite. She hadn't been sure if he would like everything on it, but turns out, he liked it very much that way.

"Okay. I tried it."

"And?"

Reluctantly, "It's good. I would really rather know what's in it, but it is good."

Then the big surprise. A steak and some pie for dessert. He'd never had a good beef steak before. Well it wasn't the best, but diner made a decent steak. He thought he'd died and gone to heaven. Well if flowers and grass could bring this man to tears, the steak about made him melt into butter. He even ate it slowly to savor every bite.

A last bite of some apple pie al a mode and he said, "I'm going to get fat."

Sarah burst into laughter. "You'll never be fat. It's just 'cause you're stuck here for now." In fact he looked the healthiest he'd been. He wasn't quite so gaunt. He had filled in a little around the ribs. She kind of missed the muscles bugling just below the skin, but having him move to show them off was a little better. He looked healthy. Color returned to his cheeks and if it hadn't been for the scars, he might have passed as completely normal and completely healed. He smiled at the thought of heading to the cabin she had told him about. It sounded like a safe, quiet place. The idea and the good food lifted his spirits. For the moment he could forget the pain, all of it. And enjoy the idea. He smiled.