Bad language & grammar. Pilfering.
Words in italics are a direct quote from one of Sarah Connor's kick ass monologues. The ep is Vick's Chip.
Who forces time is pushed back by time; who yields to time finds time on his side. ~The Talmud
All of us wear masks. They can be worn out of love and the desire to remain close to those around us, to spare them from the complicated reality of our frayed psyches. We trade honesty for companionship, and in the process never truly know the hearts closest to us.
Time heals all wounds. What a crock. Close to two decades have passed since Kyle Reese gave his life in the War Against the Machines. The pain seared through my heart then and it still burns now. Looking at his brother, Derek is a constant dig at the scab. It used to only make me long for a different time. A happier ending for Kyle. For me. Is that selfish? Merely human?
Now when I see Derek it is only the love I have for his brother and my son that keeps me from doing what I know in my heart should be done. Derek's psyche has been shaped by the atrocities of war. He's seen things. Done things. Had things done to him. Horrible things. Things I've only ever had nightmares of. He has suffered. He deserves mercy.
He deserves mercy. I repeat this in my head.
The first time I met Derek Reese we fought. Not an argument. An actual knock down, drag out fist fight. He wouldn't admit it without proof but he'd just killed a man. An unarmed man. Shot him, point blank. No remorse. Just snuffed him out like a candle. Then left.
He deserves mercy.
Later, on a mission together, with guards on our heels Derek successfully distracted them long enough for me to knock them unconscious. They were out cold. No danger. He looked at their still forms. Calm as anything he picked up one of their discarded guns. Aimed. It would be a headshot. Just like Andy Goode.
He deserves mercy.
My heart sank as I watched him take aim. He was cold. Fucking Ted Bundy blizzard cold. Shoot first. Shoot in the middle. Shoot last. Just shoot. The end. No questions, no concerns. Move along. Nothing to see here.
He deserves mercy.
I stopped him from killing the guards. Put my hand on his arm. He looked at me. There was nothing in his eyes. He showed as much emotion as the first terminator who'd tried to kill me and my unborn son. The one who had managed to kill Derek's brother. My lover. John's father.
He deserves mercy.
He never feels clean. He showers often. There are worse things a guy can do. Lots worse. I don't know why I like to confront him there. I just do. I tear open the curtain. Watching him jerk. He's off balance in body and mind. Just for a second. Then the mask is back.
"You killed Andy Goode." I made it a statement. I knew it was the truth. I'd blamed Cameron. It's always easy to doubt the metal. Trust the human. "There was no one there to protect him and you killed him."
I paused long enough for him to speak, to offer an explanation, a rebuttal, more lies, anything. In my head I'm begging for a sign of mercy. Something to let me know he shares some of Kyle's inherent goodness. That he's a hero too. That he has a conscience, a soul.
He didn't say a word. He couldn't or wouldn't acknowledge out loud what he'd done. He blinked once then continued to stare at me, like so what? I killed an unarmed man. Big fucking s.o.b.
"Lie to me again and I'll kill you."
Lies. I fucking hate them. I hate the liars too.
I hate that I've become one out of necessity. I've lived a lie since the day Kyle was killed. No matter how much normalcy I've tried to create the lies remain. This is the legacy I've passed to my son.
Lies. Derek was full of them. He constantly accused Cameron. Always wanted her silenced, out of commission. Relentlessly pointing the finger of blame at the metal. I should have remembered when he was pointing at her three of his fingers were pointing back at him. Three times as many lies issuing from his own lips.
He deserves mercy.
Bullshit.
An all consuming rage scorched it's way through my veins. The power it took to reign it in, keep it in, sucked at my last reserve of strength. Every nerve was on edge. My head throbbed.
A dozen different scenarios flickered through my mind. In some I decked Derek. His nose broken, bleeding. A fat lip. A black eye. Some mark to vent my rage. In others I drew my gun and fired just as I imagine he had done with Andy. No hesitation. No doubts. Just an end to someone who could not be saved.
"Sarah?"
I hear my name as if in a tunnel. A tunnel with a fork. There is a light at one end. An abyss of darkness at the other. I turn my back on both paths. My eyes open. The sun blazes. The truck Cameron acquired for us has plenty of room for our belongings but the air conditioner is worthless.
The back of my neck is damp with sweat. My tank top is near saturated. We must have been sitting stationary for a while. I don't remember stopping. Too wrapped up in thoughts of Derek.
He deserves mercy, a faint whisper at the back of my head.
"Maybe, maybe not." I whisper back.
"Are you all right, Sarah?"
I twist to face her. I prop my knee on the seat between us and take in the wonder of Cameron. Her shirt is almost as wet as mine. How the hell could I have been oblivious to all these traces of humanity? Perspiration dots her upper lip. I want to taste it. Run my tongue back and forth. Tease her till her lips part. I smile. "Of course I am."
"You are full of crap."
I roll my eyes. "Go screw yourself."
"Why would I want to do that? I'd much rather screw you."
Good answer. Really good answer. The temptation to bridge the short distance between us is so great I find myself inching closer. Only stopping at her sudden flinch. She turns to her right. "Derek is here. Are you certain this is how you wish to proceed?"
He deserves mercy.
I chamber a round in my Glock. Double-check the safety before I it to the back of my pants. "He can't be trusted. I have to."
"He did not come alone as you instructed."
"Of course not. He is such an asshole." I mumble as I step down from the truck. I motion for Cameron to stand down. He is probably already antsy. Cameron's presence only makes him worse.
Derek and Jesse's steps are matched. She's shorter but just as determined. Long strides. I wonder if either is aware of how similar they are. I cross my arms and wait for them to get close enough to talk without having to raise our voices.
"What part of 'come alone' was the big challenge, Derek?"
"Good to see you too, Connor." Jesse pipes up before Derek can. The thick Australian accent somehow adds to her sarcasm. She juts her chin in my direction. Her hands go to her hips. She gives me a lazy up and down stare. Pure defiance in her brown eyes.
"Wait with Cameron. Derek and I are going for a walk."
"Get stuffed. I don't take orders from you."
I don't give her the satisfaction of a reply. I cut my eyes to Derek. "Take care of her or I will."
"Is that a threat?" She steps forward. A short brunette firecracker with an even shorter fuse. "It sure sounds like one."
"Take it easy." Derek grabs her arm and gently pulls her back to his side. "When she's like this there's no point in arguing. I'll be back in a minute." he whispers but I still hear him. I see a rare moment of tenderness in his eyes. He cares for her. Truly cares.
"She's armed." Jesse calls as we pass her by. "Waistband of her trousers."
"Nothing new." Derek smiles. "So are you." The smile fades as his attention returns to me. His eyes lock onto mine. He must have detected something in my voice or my demeanor. "Fair warning. I am too."
"Fine. Everybody has a gun." I throw my hands up as we walk. I set a fast pace. I want this done and over as soon as possible. "It's like the O.K. Corral. You can be Wyatt Earp. I'll be Jesse James."
"Jesse James wasn't at that shootout." He informs me. Then points to my bandaged hand. "What happened?"
I think about the metal concealed beneath the gauze. His powerful hatred of all things metal almost makes me draw back. "Job hazard." If he saw what lies beneath he'd probably do what he does best. I don't doubt he'd shoot me. John's already made it into the world. In his eyes I have served my purpose.
I've seen the contempt in his eyes. He doesn't think John is tough enough. Doubts he will turn into the great leader he is destined to be. He questions our decisions on over and over again. I'm sick of it.
"So?" He stops when I do. One arm braced on a tree. His other hand behind his back like he's stretching. I'm not stupid. I know his fingers are grazing the butt of his beloved Beretta. "Why'd you want to meet in the middle of nowhere? And why didn't you want John to know?"
I release a heavy sigh. This is harder than I thought. The resemblance to Kyle is strong. My sense of loyalty clawing and tearing at my need for justice. "I want you gone, Derek."
"Meaning?"
"It means pack your shit. Make up some lie for John. It's not like you haven't told enough already. Tell John whatever you want. I want you gone today."
"What the fuck's that s'posed to mean?" He laughs bitterly. His hand rubbing at the stubble on his cheeks. "Is this about the fucking toilet seat again? That dyke rally get you all riled up about women's rights and whatnot?"
"Go to hell." I'm fed up. Meeting with him in person was a stupid idea. I should have just told him on the phone to get out. I turn to walk away.
"Hey," His hand clamps down on my shoulder and spins me toward him. "Least you owe me is an explanation."
"Take your hand off me."
"You've got murder in your eyes, Sarah. I told John that before." The hand holding me by my elbow changes from a grasp to a caress for an instant. I want to believe he can be gentle. That he still has some level of compassion. "What's got your panties in a twist?"
My stomach churns at the thought of him discussing my panties or anyone else's. I shrug his hand off me and shove him backward. Hard.
He's arms pinwheel as he tries to regain his balance. His boot catches on a raised root and he pitches face first to the ground.
Damn. That could have gone better. I go to reach for him to help him up. His leg sweeps out and I'm slammed on my ass. The air knocked from my lungs.
It is the opposite of our last fight. That time I had the element of surprise. The upper hand was all mine. Now, he's on top. Two hundred plus pounds of mostly muscle straddling my hips. His forearm resting against my windpipe. "Not real pleasant, is it?
"You're such an jerk. I swear to God I can't believe you're Kyle's brother. What the hell happened to you? Kyle must be rolling in the earth wondering how the hell a fucked up prick like you could possibly be the big brother he looked up to. You're a pathetic piece of crap."
"Leave my brother out of this." He roared. "Ungrateful bitch." He draws his hand back. Fingers curled into a tight fist. He's shaking from the effort to hold back and not hit me. "You got him killed."
That hurt. Hurt worse than if he had let loose and hit me.
He's crying now. Pain and fierce anger locked in combat for control of his brain. "You want to know what the fuck happened to me? Judgment Day, Sarah. What the fuck do you think happened? Do you think it's easy to watch the people you love blown to bits? Not a damn nightmare. Real fucking life. Machines enslaving humans."
"So, you got even by raping Cameron? Forcing her to -"
"You're crazy, Connor." Jesse's voice from our left. I glance over to see Cameron holding her back. Just one hand on the back of her neck like a mother dog holding her pup by the scruff of its neck.
Cameron narrowed her gaze at Derek. "You should go."
"Shut the fuck up."
"Don't." a simple command to either or both. I take advantage of Derek's surprise and anguish. I wriggle out from beneath him. He's still kneeling. Shoulder shaking, great, big, heaving sobs pulsing from his head to his toes. He's in no condition to listen or comprehend. I'm forced to talk to Jesse.
"Go to the house. Pack. Get out by seven a.m. Cameron and I will be there at eight. Trust me when I say it would be a really bad idea for you and Derek to still be there."
"Rack off, Connor. You broke him. All your crazy talk broke him. He worships you, you know? Christ we all did. Taught practically from birth that your son's the great messiah and you're the goddamn virgin Mary. Only you ain't no virgin. You ain't no self sacrificing super hero at all. You're a crazy bitch. You trust these tuna cans more than you do your own family. No wonder your son's a loon as well."
My blood feels like lava. Hot and thick. Spreading slowly to every pore. I see my own anger reflected in Cameron's eyes. In a split second she could snap Jesse in two. Much as I'd like to see the bitch suffer I know I can't allow her words to incite Cameron or myself to cold blooded murder.
I trust Cameron but maybe not while her hand is wrapped around Jesse's neck. "Let her go."
Her eyes contracted, as if asking if I'm sure. I give a slight nod. "Let her go."
Jesse jerks free. She makes a show of massaging her neck. "Watch your back, Connor. People are starting to wise up to you and John. Could be a human sent back next time to do you in."
"On second thought you don't get to pack." I reach into my pocket and toss a wad of cash to her. "Take Derek and get lost. Give it a few days. Then he can contact me. I don't ever want to talk to you again. I don't actually want to talk to him either but I will for John."
"You can go piss up a rope for all I care. Neither of us will be calling. We don't need you or your brat."
More to come
Comments appreciated.
Sorry it got dark. It will get light again. Might take a little while.
