Title: Life's Mysterious Ways
Character/Pairing: one-sided Marcus Wright/John Connor
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: slash, thought it's more of implied slash, but no actions whatsoever.
Summary: Marcus's life was a set of ironies. It never did go his way. Not when he was younger, and certainly not when he grew up. But it had never hit him this hard until–
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this characters. Just playing around with them, and yes, don't sue please!
Author Notes: I've only watched Terminator: Salvation once, and that was an hour ago, so details could be a little blurred, and I can't quite remember the previous movies, having watched them when I was really, really young. I couldn't resist writing this down though, because there didn't seem to be any fic about them at all! And I thought they really were making googly eyes at each other throughout the movie! But maybe that's just me. I'm really a freak you see. :) But not having any fic about them, made me write one. (Considering how I avoid writing having not done so for ages..) It's a little AU as I made up Marcus's background, and the name of his brother. Certain details and dialogue could be wrong as well. Sorry!
Marcus's life was a set of ironies. It never did go his way. Not when he was younger, and certainly not when he grew up. But it had never hit him this hard until– He loved his brother. He always had. Perhaps more than he should have, but he'd never gave a damn to whatever people thought. He's tried his best to take care of Andrew, even when their parents left and it was only two of them. He worked hard to make it work. They were happy. True, they had the occasional fight, but they were happy. But due to a drunken fist fight, and an infamous temper – he'd killed the only person he'd ever loved. He'd allowed two families to be broken, losing fine husbands.
Marcus wanted to die. Execution was a fitting end for a bastard like him. But she had come in, time and time again, pleading. It would be a second chance she said. Marcus didn't believe in second chances. But the third and final time she'd come in, she had looked at him with big sorrowful eyes, and in them please please please and Marcus found that he could not refuse. Perhaps, he thought, it would be an even more painful death, far more justifying. Years later, he woke up – more alive than dead – and he was even harder to kill now. Judgment Day had come and past. He was still alive.
What a way to go.
And then again. And then– He'd always known that he was bisexual, leaning more towards the men. Still, Marcus couldn't believe that at his age – he choked back a bitter laugh – 43 now, he had a crush on John Connor. And John fucking Connor hated his guts. I don't trust you. It'd hurt.
It had to be wrong, Marcus tried to tell himself at first. Life couldn't be this.. this cruel. But it was. The first time he had heard his voice, it was crackling over the radio, fuzzed up, unclear – yet Marcus could hear the determination in his voice, the fire. It twisted up his insides a little and a faint memory of his brother's burning eyes came to mind. He shook his head slightly, pressing down the pain and the hurt. Never again. His brother was dead.
Fire seemed to be crawling under his skin, and there was so much fuzziness, and the next thing he knew was waking up to an angry hoarse voice and god, you look so much like Andrew. But he knew it couldn't be. Not with that raw hatred that threatened to tear him apart just by looking at him.
Worst still, was finding that underneath it all – he was a machine. Shooting him with rounds couldn't kill him that easily. Marcus choked back a bitter laugh when they'd tried. He'd wanted to die so badly too, then.
Life was such a bitch.
He was frantic, anxious to make it right. Not because Blair had cut him loose, and allowed him to leave. But there was just something that made him wait, and try to prove to John Connor that he could help him. He would even – die for you.
Marcus was so desperate, and that scared on-edged look that John Connor had, one that held so much hopelessness only made Marcus wish he could hold John Connor just to sooth the fear away. But John Connor pointed that gun at him, and Marcus knew that he couldn't get what he wanted. He never did.
But John Connor was willing to let him go. Marcus went. That tight hope that he'd not felt for a long, long time flared briefly. And vanished all too soon. "You killed John Connor," Those words struck harder than he thought it would. The realization had already weighed heavily in his mind. And when that.. that Skynet had voiced what he feared – it seemed as if something inside him cracked a little more.
No.. No!
It was then, with a startling clarity, that Marcus knew that this was his chance to make things right again. Marcus crashed down, wearing that jacket with the patch of red he'd only fingered briefly and went about making things right. He had to, this time. But there wasn't even time to counter when – shit, the thing's aiming for my – and the next thing Marcus knew was waking up to John Connor leaning over him with the smell of sweat, blood and grease.
The blood ever more pronounced with that metal sticking out from his chest. Marcus stared numbly for just a moment as John Connor slumped down, his breath hitching and Marcus could feel the start of his uncontrollable urge to kill as his temper soared. He pulled it clean out of John Connor and it ended all too quickly.
John Connor had stared at him, and Marcus Wright's eyes trailed down from glazed blue eyes from the pain to bloody full red lips. He could have kissed him then. But John Connor had a wife. And John Connor clearly thought him nothing more than a machine. The puzzlement in his eyes hadn't faded away, though gratitude flitted through. Marcus held him up, and his breath, carrying the lighter shorter man across stairs and machines ignoring the ache inside.
Even his friend had tried to shoot him down, had not John Connor spoke up. "He's with us," he said softly, wheezing slightly. For some reason, Marcus's feet felt a little lighter. Oh, he could have kissed him then. He could have. Then he jumped on the helicopter, and John Conner's wife was the one who touched his face, and it was her hand that John Connor held.
You've done well, Marcus told himself, you saved him. Enough. Enough now.
Yet again. Yet again life decided to throw him upside down. After fighting that thing, he'd only a few days – hours? – to live, and there seemed nothing they could do. He'd saved him the death from Skynet, that machine, only to watch him die slowly.
They stood awkwardly around as John Connor laid in bed, too damn tired to even speak. And he called Kyle. He was almost jealous of Kyle. Kyle was a good kid, he knew. Resilient, strong. John Connor seemed awed with him, happy, and Marcus wanted John to look at him like that. But he knew that his place was not here. His place.. And with a startling clarity then, Marcus knew what had to be done. This was why.. This was why he was here.
"Take my heart," He said without any hesitation. John Connor appeared surprised, questioning, a hard look remaining, as if whatever Marcus said had a fallback. But Marcus held his stand and John Connor settled back, seemingly contemplative. Blair had tugged at him, and there was that look in her eyes. "My second chance," He'd said, knowing that yes, yes, he'll live this time and Marcus kissed her, wishing that it was John Connor and feeling sorry and glad that Blair didn't know.
He'd laid back down and Marcus took one last look of John Connor. Marcus's eyes held his. His eyes really are like Andrews, he thought briefly before I'm glad he's not Andrew. There was a slight imperceptible nod. Thank you. It didn't matter whether it was him who uttered it, or John himself. Peace settled deep in his soul, and Marcus felt freed from something that seemed to have chained him down. Funny how things worked in the end, Marcus smiled as the needle pierced into skin that felt too real to be fake.
Life had its mysterious ways. It was a bitch.
But now–
His heart was finally in the right place.