Disclaimer :John Connor is a trademark of the Terminator, Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles series, James Cameron, Orion, and TriStar. Claire Bennet is a trademark of NBC, Tim Kring, and Heroes.

AN: I tried to get a beta, but couldn't find one that knew both Terminator and Heroes. If you know anyone or are someone who does please let me know.

John Connor - Los Angeles, California

The first girl, or even person for that matter, that I had ever invited over to my house, was not a long time friend or girlfriend, but a complete stranger. She is a girl who I know I cannot trust. Under normal circumstances, I would force myself to stay away from her, same as I tried to do with Riley, but this is different, Cameron says I have to get close to and protect her, make sure she lives past Judgment Day. She says she will become some sort of fighter, one who saves many lives in the future, including my own.

Not like any of that matters anyhow, she declined my invitation, multiple times before bolting. Cameron of course had chased her down anyway. I don't know what to do anymore, what with Cameron pursuing random (or not so random) girls, with claims of their future importance and all. I've been sitting on this park bench for the past hour, Mom's doubtlessly somewhere around here, watching me, making sure no one is going to attack. After all she has to protect the all-important 'savior of mankind' never mind her son whom is the one who really needs saving, just as long as nothing happens to his pretty, little shell.

God knows what's going to happen to that girl in the future, Claire something or another. How old was she anyway, when I saw her earlier, she looked to be 14 or 15 at the most. She's just a kid, just same as me, but it's not as if she has the experiences I do. What could be so important about her in the future that Cameron had to save her? Can anyone really be that special?

"John?" my name sounded around me and I barely had the energy to pull myself from my troubling thoughts and turn around to see Riley standing behind me. "What's wrong John? What happened to your face?" she probed, voice filled with panic and trepidation. I don't have a response to that; at least I don't have an honest answer. All I can do without being overwhelmed with guilt is shrug. "What's wrong John? Did you get in a fight? Did your mom hit you? Please just tell me what happened, John." She really does look horrified; this certainly doesn't help my conscious.

"I'm sorry Riley, I have to go, I'll call you later alright?" Her face is breaking me; I can't stand to see her like that. She looks so worried about me and I know that I don't deserve any of her concern. I whip around on my heel and sprint, just pick up my feet and scamper out of there, away. Trying to ignore the look on Riley's face, I head back to Mom, well I start to before I a thought forces me to stop. Where Am I. Thinking back I can't remember how I got here. Verizon still has not replaced my phone since I dropped last week, freaking Voyager. I should have gotten the Dare, or the EnV. 2, Suddenly I recognize the complete and utter uselessness of regretting the past, especially something as ridiculous as a phone choice, it's not as if I'm going to go back in time and pick a different cell phone. So running away probably had not been the smartest move on my part and I will have to take full responsibility for that-stupid-choice, but hey, I should be allowed to live my own life every once and awhile, Mom owes me that, really destiny owes me that much. For 15 years I just sat around did whatever I was asked-no told, when Mom said jump I jumped, I didn't say anything, just jumped. It's more likely she's just pissed that I'm growing my own brain than that I knowingly put myself in danger. But you know what, she's just going to have to deal with that, if only for one day.

By the time I got home, my regret of leaving had grown exponentially. I had the chance to linger in the doorway for about-oh two seconds before it was launched open, revealing a very pissed, and maybe even slightly upset, Sarah Connor-Oops, I mean Baum. Instantly her hand was on my collar wrenching my weakish body through the door, I didn't have a chance to even feel it though; her questions are pounding my skull. "Where the hell have you been?" she demanded shaking me, but it appeared as if she were literally shaking too. "You could not have picked a worse time to be a typical, rebellious teenager and you know it! You can't just leave John! For all I knew you could have been dead! You're too important!" and here it goes again with the 'I'm too important shi…z,'-I need to break that habit before it consumes me-. I seriously think that sometimes, I'm not her real son, and that the only reason she even takes care of me is that I'm supposed to save the future from going to Hell. I sigh and turn to face her.

"I'm sorry!" I scream and shout, my voice wavering between syllables, "I'm sorry that I got freaked out when I saw Cameron kill a man! I'm sorry that I couldn't handle that! I'm 16 Mom! Be happy I'm even still here, if I had an ounce of sanity left (well really in me to start with) in me then I would have ran ages ago." Sighing I looked down at my shoes and try fiercely to calm myself down, counting in French, un, deux, trois… "I'm sorry mom, I won't do it again." I said feeling partially annoyed at myself for letting her control me like that and partially proud of myself for taking control of myself-if only slightly. I don't know where the pride bit comes from, it's always been this way, even when I detest her and all she does I can't bring myself to hurt her.

Claire Bennet -Los Angeles, California

Forcing my eyes open, I attempt to break the dark veil with my eyes but I can't, shocker huh. The only things visible are the two blue lights, about an inch apart and anywhere from 5 feet and 4 inches to 5 feet and 7 inches in the air. At least I think, she tied me to a chair, my perspective from down here could be completely off. Why have I been tied to a chair in a dark, dark room anyway? This doesn't exactly seem like Company protocol and Sylar already... None of this makes any sense, at all. Who wants me bad enough to resort to illegal means and wouldn't initially drug me, no that bitch didn't sedate me, she pounced on me and shoved me to the ground, it's a good thing Sylar already got me otherwise that would have hurt a bit, you know maybe a little.

Sylar, he's the whole reason I'm even here in the first place, I don't think Mom liked coming home to find her daughter with blood streaked across her forehead like is was some new fashion trend. Daddy dearest probably wasn't too happy hearing the news either; I imagine that's why he sent me away. He said it was the company, he said they're after me again, but didn't he just make that deal, no, it doesn't make sense. That man does have a -strong- tendency to lie; I wouldn't be surprised.

-Flashback-

Boarding that plane was the hardest thing I had ever done, not that leaving my family had been easy before but at least then there was the possibility of seeing them again, now not so much. Before I knew what I had to do, the first time I had to find Peter, Second time I had to be a normal girl. Now... nothing, all I even have to go on is my passport. I am Claire Barstow, I am nineteen and I am from Washington.

Making my way to the back of the plane, I sat my butt down next to some old woman who looked like she was going to die. I clutched my only possessions I had left (along with a suitcase full of new designer clothes. Does Dad really think he can buy me off like that, does he think new clothes is going to make this all okay?) A small, black Target bag, I bought when I was like 12. The bag contains my new cell phone, the jukebox, -cheapest phone available- and digital camera, I have to keep up pretenses, I'm just your typical little college kid, or dropout in "my case," who is just along for the parties, I need my camera to record all the fun, drunken nights I'm supposed to be having in L.A.

I am going to Los Angeles; I have never been there before. Real Me hopes it's not nearly as exciting as I hear it is. But new Party Claire wants it to be filled with hot guys, okay real me wants that too, but Party Claire also wants booze, drugs and sex with guys she probably won't remember three months from now anyways.

The flight attendant went over the normal stuff, safety procedures, buckle yourself in, close the tray, Etc... I wish people would learn that we are capable of taking care of ourselves... not that all of us need to though. I'm seventeen years old so why do I feel like I'm thirty?

I had plenty of concerns on the plane but I don't think I even considered being the victim of a random kidnapping by crazy, psychopath teenagers with a lot of muscle.

"Claire Bennet" Okay maybe not so random, it was the only thought I could think of as my mind filled with terror, pushing out room for any rational thoughts and turning them all into 'How did she know'. "Are you okay Claire Bennet?" that crazy, psychotic, brunette, teenager inquired nonchalantly. It's crazy. It's as if kidnapping is no big deal to her, like it's part of her daily routine. I glanced around the room to make sure it wasn't part of her daily routine.

"Why do you even care?" it was icy and I knew it, but how else are you supposed to answer a whacked out question like that.

"Because you're important," she spoke the words carefully and slowly, as if speaking to a slow three year old. My kidnapper replied impassively.

"I'm important?"

"Yes."

"Why, what makes me so special?" I wanted to know. How does she even know who I am to begin with?

"Your fighting and stealth abilities are great. So is your strength"

"What did you kidnap me so I would teach to fight? Great strategy, how's it working out for you? Not well? Huh, I thought I would respond so well to being taken here without my consent, and anyways I can't fight. No one is willing to teach me. Peter certainly wouldn't."

"I will teach you."

"What."

"I will teach you."

"What so this is beyond confusing now, what are you talking about."

"I will teach you to fight." Her voice is wavering, it is still calm, and cool and collected. It's kind of freaking me out.

I am still struggling to come up with a response to that when a familiar voice breaks my concentration. Zach's voice. I don't understand. "Cameron," he calls out "Mom wants to talk to you." Is he a kidnapping psychopath now too? "Come on, Mom really wants to talk to you Cam," Zach repeats, coming down the stairs. Wait? Stairs? He flicks on the lights.

My pain and hurt quickly turn to irritation. Seeing my best friend like this, what does he think he's doing? On a less annoyed level the skin around his eye is bright, bright red. Looks like he got decked, or walked into a door, but with his height I doubt that, maybe the top of a door frame, but not a door. He may be a jerk right now but he is still my best friend and I don't like seeing him hurt.

"Okay John. Thank you for telling me. Please watch Claire Bennet, make sure she does not attempt escape in my absence." That bitch-Cameron, says walking up the stairs.

Zach-no John? Pulls up a chair and sits across from me, while I blink and try to adjust to the light. I stare at his black pants and combat boots, is he going for the bad-boy look now? Quite a leap if you ask me.

"Zach? Why are you doing this to me? Pretending not to recognize me was one thing, but sending your little girlfriend to kidnap me? Why? What's going on? I mean I thought I got messed up after I left Odessa, but it looks like something worse happened to you. Come on Zach, please just let me go." My little drama attack there, it started out perfect; my voice was steady and not at all on the verge of breaking. The last sentence though, I was already crying. But at least his face was cold anymore, he looked sincere. It was odd to say the least.

"I'm sorry," he began to apologize and I could just hear the, I would love to let you go but can't part coming. "I'm not Zach, my name is John Baum, that was my sister, Cameron, she thinks…well truthfully I don't have a clue what she thinks." What? None of this even fits in sanity's shadow.

"No you are not, you are Zach Carlson, you're my erstwhile(A/N yes, I do think I had to use that particular word, it means former, if you didn't figure that out and don't have a top-notch vocabulary) best friend! You're the only person I actually told my secret," Peter doesn't count he busted me, and well Daddy Dearest already knew. "Come on Zach, don't lie to me, don't tell me you're not you." I pleaded not even trying to conceal my horror any longer.

He may be going for that bad-boy look but it will never work; his eyes give him away. As much as I hate to admit it even to myself he doesn't know what I'm talking about. I'm just a rambling teenager to him. Better than being a bitchy cheerleader I suppose.

John and me shared witty banters for a little while until Cameron returned she had a sandwich in her hand and I was afraid they were going to try and force feed me. That might be a little uncomfortable. But no John untied my left hand and let me feed myself, of course I did spend much of the time trying to figure out how to get out with my left hand. Stalling with insult between every bite, and chewing treacherously slow. It didn't work, needless to say.

Another woman with blackish hair, came down the stairs. Her face reminded me slightly of Shannen Doherty, from that old show me and Jackie used to watch reruns of, oh what is it called? Beverly Hills, 90210! That's it, but only slightly. I definitely don't think this is her but they look similar. "Shannen" was followed by a man who also reminded me of the Beverly Hills, 90210 cast, Brian Austin Green, what I remember most about the show is Jackie raving about how hot and sexy David was, I had to remind her every time that the show was playing when we were four so he was probably old. She'd get upset for about three seconds then get over it and continue her crazed ravings.

"Claire?" the woman stood by Zach-John, "My name is Sarah Baum and we have reason to believe that your life is in danger.

"No it isn't."

"Claire, I need-"

"No," I cut her off "my life isn't in danger, my sanity maybe but not my life."

"Claire, listen someone is after-"

"No you know what I don't care."

"They will kill you." - Man

"I don't believe you." Yes I do. But when isn't someone after me.

"Fine, show her Cameron." Sarah said. Cameron turned her back towards me, lifted her hair in one hand and hand John some sort of knife from the other. John just looked at the knife then shifted his vision to her now bare neck in confusion. Cameron told John something like 'just show her' I'm not entirely sure, I was a bit confused myself. But finally after waiting about three more seconds John lifted the blade and plunged it into her bare skin. I would have jumped had I not been tied down. But nothing happened, Cameron legs didn't crumple like they should have, John just pulled the athaméé from her neck and she turned around. But her neck, it hadn't healed, it just bled and yet she still wasn't dead. Her glassy eyes were a sort of glowing eerie blue. It freaked me the hell out. I recollected when I first woke up there were two glowing lights just like that. It must have been her. Her icy orbs turned back to a brown that was actually almost blue only a second later.

"What are you?" I gasped. Still reeling.

"I am a hyper-alloy combat chassis sent from the future to protect John Connor, Sarah Connor, and any of John's future deputies I come in contact with, including Claire Mellissa Bennet and Derek Andrew Reese." Right, sure you are. Well actually she probably is.

"Are all of you hyper-alloy things?" I gasped for breath, none of this is real, none of this is real, none of this is real. I can't even pinch myself, even if I weren't tied up. Damn Sylar.

"No, that bitch is the only metal here." A gruff voice answered my question. Ah David, If only Jackie…wait, she's dead.

"So everyone else here, you're all just people?"

"Cameron is a person," John defended.

"She is?"

"No she's not." Sarah gave John a scolding look.

"What is a hyper-alloy combat chassis?" I stumbled on the words I remember her saying.

"A robot," the stranger informed me. This day is not getting any better. I was kidnapped by a robot. A robot from the future.

"This is Derek, he's also from the future, me and my Mom though, we're from the past, the year 1999, we got her in 2007, last year." John explained. And so they went, explaining how in the future John was going to save the world and how I was going to save John and how metal was going to take over. I could tell that this was just the beginning of what was going to be a very, very long day. But my mind was more focused on things like the Hatian and how if they got here in 2007 that would be two years ago. Now that I think about it Cameron reminds me a little of a girl from Union Wells too.