Title: Patchwork Girl
Author: Elessar-4-TnT
Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles.
Summary: This takes place shortly after Complicated, when they have the new place. This story is born of two things: my attempt to tackle the John and Cameron question, and my obsession with firearms. Watching TV/film, I am constantly picking apart why they use particular weapons and complaining. This is my fix.
So many authors here have done a far better job than I ever could of explaining how Cameron and John could be an item without some magical 'machine falls in love', but rather with good reason. I will endeavor to measure up. This is slightly John/Cameron moving as it goes on to 'totally John/Cameron' :D.
A/N: This is my first venture into Terminator: SCC fanfiction as a writer. I've written one Lost fic, and several dozen Star Trek: Enterprise fics.
Chapter 1: Bedlam
The front door flew open with a creak, slamming the backside against the front window shades. They rattled back and forth as Sarah Connor hobbled inside, a blood-stained hole in the gray fabric covering her lower leg. Derek carried her by one shoulder while John slipped in behind him through the door. He ran up beside his mother and took her other arm. Cameron followed last, nonchalantly standing in the doorway as she scanned the front perimeter to ensure they were not followed by the T-888. She held her pistol up to her eyes, dropped the magazine out, checked the capacity, then slammed it home and cocked the weapon. Cameron didn't speak as she shut the door. The lock clicked shut as she turned and strode through the living room. John was easing his mother back carefully on the table while his uncle tore the fabric open around the wound.
"Where are you going?" John demanded of Cameron as she slipped through the back door.
"Checking perimeter," she replied matter-of-factly. Her eyes held steadily on John for a moment longer than necessary.
"We need you to take the bullet out, first!" John snapped back at her, anxiously keeping his eyes off her. Derek cocked his head to look at Sarah. She nodded 'ready'. Derek pulled from both ends of the bandage with all his might, drawing a muffled scream.
"It's not too deep. Let the metal do her perimeter sweep," Derek said, looking at John.
John looked back at Cameron and found her wide brown eyes not on him, but his mother. For a fleeting moment, he saw a specter of concern fly across her face as she took a step away from the door.
Analyzing John Connor: Body temperature normal; heart rate elevated; pupil dilation and skin temperature suggest adrenaline rush, hypertension. Threat: If Sarah Connor sustains significant injury, John Connor will be emotionally distressed. Estimate 45% decrease in combat effectiveness for duration of injury. Action: Reprioritize. Secure safety of Sarah Connor, priority one. Secure perimeter, priority two.
"I will remove the bullet," Cameron said, tipping her head downwards. John watched as several strands of hair fell down over her face as she moved towards Sarah. Cameron stepped beside the table, simply pushing Derek out of the way. Derek's jaw set as he prepared to object, but Sarah pre-empted him.
"It's alright… get her whatever she needs… Derek, you check outside," Sarah said between panting breathes, her face covered in a thin glean of sweat. Derek shot a warning glance at the Terminator, but she ignored him, her gaze remaining steadily on Sarah's injury. Pulling the weapon out from its holstered position in his back, he racked the slide back and moved out the back door.
"Scissors," Cameron said plainly.
Cameron gazed up at John as he reached across the table and handed her a medical scissors.
"Thank you," she responded simply. Analyzing: scissors are too large to remove projectile. Risk: damaging femoral artery, resulting in massive blood loss. Threat: Distress to John Connor, possible death of Sarah Connor. Analyzing: Sarah Connor's death results in 91% decrease in combat effectiveness in John Connor. Action: Use smaller tool.
Sarah's brow furrowed as her eyes shot from Cameron to her son upon hearing the courtesy out of Cameron's mouth. Sarah had been uneasy about the reaction she witnessed in him when Cameron screamed out that she loved him in order to persuade him not to remove her chip. It was even more disturbing that he recklessly reactivated her "hoping" he had fixed her. John ignored his mother's disapproving frown as Cameron clinically inspected the wound. Never was her machine-side more obvious than in situations like these, when all around her were panicking and Cameron moved with poise and precision.
"John," Cameron said, interrupting the awkward silence. Without looking up, she pointed at the freezer, her head bent at the neck, looking over the wound. "In the back of the freezer, there is a bottle of Vodka. Bring it to me."
John stared back at her confusedly, looking from his mother to Cameron.
"It's Derek's, it's fo—" Sarah began.
"It is necessary to disinfect the wound before I attempt to remove the bullet," Cameron stated flatly, looking up at John. He froze under the weight of her hard, brown eyes, lost in the moment as he tried to look further for something else… some kind of movement.
"John!" Sarah spat at him. The young hero-to-be jumped a foot at his mother's voice and ran to the kitchen. He returned with a tall fifth of McCormick, about three-quarters full of transparent liquor, a frozen layer of condensation covering the bottle as he handed it to Cameron.
"Is this going to hurt?" John asked as he came around by his mother's side once again.
"Yeah, John," Sarah said, laughing as she answered for Cameron. This wasn't her first rodeo, and she squeezed her son's hand in anticipation. "It's gonna' hurt," she smiled briefly. As Cameron poured the liquor over her leg, the smile on Sarah's lips contorted and disappeared, replaced by a wince as she squeezed John's fingers.
"I need something smaller," Cameron said calmly, holding up the scissors. "Like a scalpel," she said, looking up at John.
"In the… in the drawer," Sarah panted. John ran to the drawer and got the scalpel, handing it to Cameron.
Analyzing Sarah Connor: Body temperature 101.3 degrees Fahrenheit, heart rate 110 beats per minute and rising. Shock may be imminent. Significant blood loss. Possibility of loss of consciousness. Action: Alert John Connor.
"Sarah Connor may pass out. She is not dead," Cameron said, looking John squarely in the eye, her lips parted slightly. He nodded after several seconds, holding onto his mother's hand.
"Do it," Sarah panted. Her head fell back against the table, forehead pleated with sweat as she passed out.
Cameron's head canted slightly to the side as her lips curved into a light smile. "Now it won't hurt," she said aloud to herself as she cut into the flesh of Sarah's leg, searching for the T-888's 9MM round.