Author's Note: Another T:SCC fic, this one a John Connor character study.
The light is fading from the sky as John, standing just outside the door to the house, watches the sun sink below the horizon. Darkness falls quickly after dusk, and he tenses, ever so slightly, because in the dark it's impossible to see past your hand stretched out in front of your face.
He feels blind, sometimes, in the dark. Even though he can see a little bit, it's almost like nothing. What difference does it make whether or not you can see your feet when someone is sneaking up to you in the darkness?
A sound from behind him, a crunch of leaves under feet, and he whirls – but it's only Cameron. She stares at him unblinkingly for a moment, then walks into the house, leaving the door open behind her.
John closes the door. Somehow he doesn't feel safe leaving it open, even though it provides a little light.
He can hear his mother talking with Derek, somewhere in the distance. He's not sure what to think about Derek. He wants to trust him, but Mom doesn't, and that makes him nervous.
As he stares out into the darkness, he can see it closing in on his peripheral vision, making him blink rapidly to reestablish normal sight. Only it's not normal sight, because it's dark, and that makes it different.
Mom is yelling at Derek. He can't make out her words; she must be too far away.
It's too open out here in front of the door. Someone with better night vision might be able to see him and wonder what he's doing out here. John starts to walk around the side of the house, not sure exactly where he's going. He's just trying to get away, to hide.
He walks for a long time – ten minutes maybe – around and around the house, listlessly. At some point the distant argument ceases. He's on the other side of the house when he hears the door slam – someone's gone inside.
It's cold outside. Shivering, John bites his lip and keeps on walking. This is a little like pacing, only with more space and better air than his room. Somehow that makes it more calming.
Only it's also less calming, because it's dark outside, and when darkness falls, he feels just a tiny bit afraid.
John doesn't know why he's admitting that to himself now.
It's so dark that he doesn't notice the person standing in his path until he steps on her foot. Startled, he flinches back, then realizes it's Mom, standing there with her arms folded and her eyes unreadable.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
John looks away. He doesn't want to meet her eyes. As a child, he was never afraid of the dark. He doesn't know why it's different now.
"John," says Mom, more gently. She touches his arm and he flinches again, a nervous reaction. "Come inside. You must be freezing."
It occurs to John that he's been walking around in the dark and thinking about how afraid of it he is. How stupid is that?
Mom puts a firm hand on his shoulder, steering him towards the door. He lets her do it, but as they reach it he hesitates, looking up at her. "Mom –"
She stops too and watches his face, waiting for him to continue.
Worried is a good substitute for scared. "Do you get more… worried… when it's dark? Because you can't see anything?"
"Sometimes." Her eyes meet his. "Definitely when you're out here, wandering around."
John swallows. "Sorry."
"Come inside," she says again, and this time he follows as she opens the door and steps into the house. It's warmer inside and much brighter, so bright compared to the outside that he has to blink a few times to adjust.
Mom closes the door behind them.
"If you can't sleep, we can watch a movie or something," she says.
John hesitates only for a second before smiling, just a little. "That'd be good," he says, and he warms inside when he sees her smile back at him. Suddenly the darkness seems very far away.