There was not time to wait for the explosive heat to dissipate. Sarah ran, smoke-burned eyes fixed on Pop's wide back, clutching the thin cloth of her shirt over her nose and mouth. It was as close to hell as she had ever been; steel glowing red and sagging under its own weight, decorative veneers bubbling away as her boots skid on the hot ash that had once been carpet. A hand reached up from behind and steadied her shoulder, Reese was still looking out for her, still doing his damnedest to protect her. Eventually they made it out, boots crunching over broken glass as the cool night breeze of San Francisco washed over blistered skin and scorched clothing. They could not linger long, but she took a moment to breath clean air and shift her shotgun to her better working hand from where is was cradled awkwardly between her elbow and ribs. "Let's go."

Pops marched to a white van, sheltered in the back of the employee parking lot, largely intact despite its proximity to the blast and picked the lock on the driver side door with his newly improved liquid metal fingertip. "Where?"

Sarah waited until he stretched over and released the lock on the passenger side. "Reese, where did your parents live?" She struggled against the weight of her duffle, ignoring the soldier's wordless offer of assistance. She did not need saving from a piece of luggage, and shoved herself onto the padded bench in the front, pressing close to Pop's right elbow.

"Somerset, a few hours east of here." Reese tossed his bag of supplies over the high seat back and slid in beside her, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Seatbelt," Pop's reminder was automatic as he reversed out of the space fast enough to make the tires squeal. "Sarah Connor you are injured."

It was an entirely unnecessary statement. Now that the threat of imminent death had passed, the boring pain above her clavicle was inescapable. "I'll live. We have to get out of here." When he hesitated she raised her voice, "Go!"

The van accelerated sharply onto the highway ramp heading east. "Your right side is operating at 55% capability. This is not optimal. Kyle Reese-"

"Got it," Kyle ducked under the chest strap of his seat belt and fumbled blindly in the backseat for the white plastic First Aid case in the smaller duffel. He settled it on his thigh and twisted awkwardly to look at the woman sandwiched beside him. Passing streetlamps flickered over her, alternating between bleaching white light and darkness. "Pops, lights." Sirens blared and the three turned to watch the flashing lights drive west in the opposite direction, towards the four pillars of dark smoke. The map light came on once it had faded into the distance.

"Are you waiting for an invitation?" Sarah let her head sag back against the high back of the seat and blew out a breath. "Go ahead."

He had done this a thousand times in a different life. The skin under his fingers was cold and clammy, the right side of her shirt wet and sticky with the terrible, unavoidable smell of blood. It was a mixed blessing that she wasn't wearing a jacket; it made accessing her right shoulder much easier, but she needed to be warm to combat shock. The material slid away from the injured site easily enough, and he frowned at the dark puncture in her trapezius, bleeding sluggishly. "Sarah, look at me." Her eyes fluttered open and found his. "I need you to sit up, can you do that?"

Bright blue eyes narrowed at him and slender fingers dug into his thigh as she hauled herself up and away from her support. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Kyle slipped an arm behind her back, bracing her to check the back of the injured muscle. The skin appeared intact over dark bruising. "Can you turn your head? Move your arm?" She trembled under his hand with the exertion of performing the desired movements, tendons standing starkly in her neck. "Great, okay, you can relax." Gently he eased her back to a restful position.

"She is at 54% operational capability. How is that great?" Pops was watching them with a neutral curiosity.

"Your bedside manner sucks, Pops. Watch the road." Kyle scowled at their driver, who held his gaze a minute longer, to show that he didn't take orders from anyone but Sarah, before returning his unblinking stare to the asphalt. The iron grip on his leg relaxed infinitesimally and he looked down to catch a twitch of Sarah's smile. "I'm going to disinfect and bandage your neck now." There was a small tube of bacitracin in the kit, nestled beside the gauze pads and medical tape. The chemical smell was unfamiliar to Kyle, but the technique hadn't changed between 2017 and 2029 and the ointment spread easily over the trauma site. Sarah didn't flinch from the contact, though her fingers on him tightened briefly, and then gave a reassuring pat as he smoothed the sterile covering into place. "It'll do, just keep to small caliber weaponry for now."

Sarah opened her eyes enough to glare up at Kyle. "You going to stop me, solider?"

"No, ma'am," Kyle couldn't not smile at the self-satisfied smirk his words elicited.

"Good." Sarah shifted and settled down for a nap.

The small strong hand didn't move from where it rested on his leg and Kyle had abso-fucking-lutely no idea what to do about it once he finished stowing the medical supplies. It doesn't mean anything, he reminded himself, not until she explicitly said it did. There was no point torturing himself with adolescent fantasies, especially while her creepy father figure Terminator was driving the car. Kyle shifted, trying to get comfortable in the narrow confines, and watched a red dawn come up over Sacramento. Then he dozed, drifting in and out of awareness, until Pops pulled up to a mini-mart outside of Somerset.

"Wake up, Sarah Connor."

Blue eye snapped open and Sarah sat up immediately at the command, taking in the changed surroundings at a glance and untangling her fingers from Reese's. "Are we switching?"

"Yes." Pops hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and exited the car. Reese took a moment to double check that the firearms they were carrying were still concealed in the canvas bags, then grabbed the remainders and followed Sarah around the back of the squat brick building to a dumpster and a dark blue pickup truck. "Get in."

Scrambling into the back seat was awkward and uncomfortable, but Sarah managed well enough. It was galling to be exiled from her rightful spot in the front seat beside Pops, but the physics of their situation was undeniable. So she didn't complain and tried to scrunch herself smaller as Reese eased the seat back and slid in front of her. They were quiet except for Reese's occasional instruction, to turn right here or left there, leaving the highway behind to navigate local roads to the home of his parents, and his home in this present-future timeline. The only upside of this position, she decided, was that she could watch his face reflected in the window, watch him stiffen and shut down as they wound through narrow roads shadowed by old oak trees, could watch his mouth move as he recited the message to his younger self, that the future could play out as it had.

Sarah didn't like watching him like this. He had been what she needed last night, since he dropped into her life, really. Funny, gentle, deferential. They worked well together, and it had been unexpectedly comforting to wake up holding his hand. Without bringing love and fate into this, if she had the power to alleviate some of the struggle he was going through now, surely she ought to. She hesitated for a heartbeat and then touched the cool leather covering his shoulder. "Do you want me to talk to him first?"

Reese frowned at her question, using the rear-view mirror to meet her eyes, shook his head once, then nodded. "Yeah."

"You don't remember it?"

"I don't think it works like that," Reese shook his head again and covered her hand briefly with his. "Yeah, talk to him."

Sarah took her hand back and the quiet returned as Pops turned the truck down a quiet country lane and pulled to a stop within easy view of an old tree with a swing on it and a neat two story grey house. The engine stopped and she let Kyle help her out from where she had wedged herself. The grass was soft under her boots as she crossed the lawn to where a white dog stood guard over ginger haired boy and a gleaming red motorbike. He stood to face her as she approached. "Hey, Kyle."

"Hey," He glanced back at her companions, voice high and uncertain. "What are you doing here?"

Sarah followed his glance, over her shoulder at the two men standing awkwardly in wait. "A friend of mine really needs to talk to you, if that's okay."

"I guess so," He offered her a tentative smile.

Green eyes stared out at her from across time, and Sarah cleared her throat and gestured back to the adult Reese, before smiling back at the boy. "Thank you." He nodded as though he understood the gravity of what was about to happen, but that was just fantasy on her part. He couldn't understand, not really, not ever. He would be safe in this timeline, grow into adulthood without ever knowing the pain of losing his family or the terror of being a soldier. She left him by the bike, alone and waiting the approaching adult-Reese, and retreated back to the polite distance of the truck. She tracked his progress across the lawn, watched the soundless interaction, the hulking soldier on his heels and engaging with his younger self.

"Kyle Reese is a good man," Pops intoned, watching the time loop close in front of their eyes.

Sarah glanced at him, and then back at the pair, separated only by time. Unused muscles around her eyes crinkled at the view, it was beautiful to see the threads of the same person running through two separate bodies. "He is."

The pair exchanged the timeless male communique of fist-bump, and Kyle Reese from a future that would never come trekked back to the waiting pair. "So what now?"

The future stretched out, impossibly vast and exciting into the golden morning light. The magnitude, the terrible, wonderful, overwhelming sense of freedom stopped Sarah dead in her tracks. "I can choose, now." She turned to Kyle, and wasn't this a choice, too? Wasn't contrarianism just as restrictive, just as binding as acceptance? He was tall and she had to stretch up to run her fingers down his jaw, but he was accommodating and bent down to her, pressing his gently over hers when she tilted her face up. She could almost feel the possible futures shifting around them, separating and reuniting as one door closed and a thousand more opened. It was her first kiss, and her mouth felt clumsy and awkward and amazing against his, but gravel crunched underfoot, and Reese moved away far too soon. "Please don't say the 'M' word."

Reese glanced between the two of them, confusion writ plain on his face. "What's the 'M' word?"

"Mate? Why? He makes you happy. You will enjoy it." The inhuman, ominous stare seemed to indicate the unspoken 'or else'.

Sarah rolled her eyes in disgust at the old geezer. "Whatever, let's get moving. I want breakfast." Imperiously, she shoved past Reese back to the blue truck and clambered inside. The two men joined her a minute later, an unspoken agreement reached without her participation, and Pops started the engine. The boy was back laboring over his bike, but he looked up long enough to wave them off as the old Chevy rumbled away down the road.

They found breakfast in a small worn diner just outside the city limits in the lull between breakfast and lunch. Sarah managed to cajole the bored looking waitress on duty into giving them a space in the back by the kitchens, and they were left with menus and dewy glasses of ice water.

The choices on demand were overwhelming for Kyle, who had grown up with the dual options of 'canned beans' or 'protein porridge' twice a day. The descriptions were not much more use, the items listed were outside his area of expertise and he tossed the menu down.

In short order the waitress returned, pen and pad at the ready. "What'll it be?" Kyle gestured emphatically for Sarah to go first.

She caught his eye and quirked a smile. "Pancakes, please."

Pops frowned, but held his peace. "Coffee."

Kyle shrugged, "What she said. Please." He watched the woman bustle off to a window facing into the back of the restaurant and snorted.

"What's so funny?" Sarah narrowed her eyes at him.

"So that's a waitress?" When she nodded, Kyle shook his head in bemusement. "Before he sent me back, John said you'd be working as one of those. It just doesn't make any sense."

Sarah shook her head violently. "No way! That's ridiculous." She turned to Pops, brimming with indignation. "Can you really see me as a waitress?"

"Not as a very good one."

Kyle listened to the tiny family across form him bicker with half an ear. It was a weird profession, how was it optimal for that woman's sole profession to be as a go between for a cook and eaters? For the first time since landing he felt far from home. The world had changed, and there was no going back.

"Hey!"

Fingers clicked close to his nose and Kyle started, blinking away the feeling of alienation and looking down at Sarah. "Huh?"

"Welcome back," She smiled her megawatt smile at him and pointed at the heaping pile of round bread that had been deposited in front of him while he was lost in reflection. "Food's here."

Kyle studied the neat stack in front of him, crowned with a small dollop of gold. The pancakes were soft enough to cut with the side of his fork and they were amazing and sweet.

"Good?" Sarah had drizzled her own stack of pancakes with a heavy brown syrup and was alternating bites of breakfast with sips of Pop's coffee.

"Incredible," Kyle caught an escaping crumb hanging on the edge of his mouth. "People in this time don't know how good they have it."

Sarah's amusement softened into something that verged uncomfortably close to pity. "Your time too, soldier. We'll make sure you get to enjoy some of the perks now that Skynet's gone."

His fork squeaked against the ceramic plate as Kyle chased the remains of his breakfast around. He didn't want her to look at him like that, like he was some victim of circumstance. He had chosen this fate for himself, even more so than she had. Maybe John had nudged him in this direction, but it had all been his free will in the end. "You're sure it's gone?"

"Did you miss the entire building falling down around our ears? Seems pretty gone to me." Sarah tossed her fork down to cross her arms over her chest.

"What do you think?" He directed the question to Pops.

The old Terminator didn't respond immediately. At length he spoke, dragging the words out with effort. "Skynet is smart. We would be foolish to think it had not executed contingency planning in the event its primary data centers were attacked."

"So what, everything we did was for nothing?"

"No!" Kyle disagreed fiercely. "We stopped Judgement Day! We did that, we destroyed the Terminator assigned to protect Skynet. We set Cyberdyne back decades, if they can even fully recover the R&D John was feeding them. It wasn't nothing; it's just not everything." He touched her hand, white knuckled on the unremarkable white china cup.

"So what do we do?"

It hit Kyle again, like a load of bricks, that the young woman in front of him wasn't a soldier, a commander the way her son, their son, would be. She was brave and strong and smart, but it was the intelligence of a solo operative, a guerrilla fighter alone in the wild. She didn't know strategic thinking, not yet. "In 2029, Skynet has control centers stationed through the Eastern and Western seaboards. I have the locations; we can see if anything's set up there."

Pops nodded, "Denver, Colorado is a critical location. It is not far."

Sarah drained the last of Pop's coffee. "Tell me about it."

He had done aerial patrols there, once or twice, and been closely involved in orchestrating the attack that had won them the war against the machines. Kyle knew it well enough. "It's deep in the Rockies, nearly a half mile of granite protecting it. It was Skynet's command and control center, though my understanding was that Skynet had taken it over as a part of J-Day."

"It is currently in use as a top-secret military-industrial complex." Pops uttered the statement as though it was the word of God. "It is possible that Cyberdyne installed Skynet there ahead of the public launch."

"You mean the missile silos," Sarah tapped her lower lip, "but if it controls those, why did it need Genisys to start Judgement Day?"

"I do not know." Pops pulled out his wallet and slapped two bills on the table. "If we find it, you can ask."