John had a feeling like someone was watching him. He wasn't sure how or why, but he could feel their gaze penetrating his body. His eyes snapped open and he found Cameron staring down at him. It made him somewhat uncomfortable, especially because he was in nothing but sweat pants.

"Good morning," she said, though her voice wasn't cheery. John groaned and looked over at the clock. The bright red numbers read 4:15.

"Listen, I know you don't need sleep," John told her, "but I do." He rolled over and closed his eyes. It was silent for a few moments, which caused him to feel slightly paranoid. He opened his eyes once more and saw Cameron standing over him once again. He hadn't even heard her footsteps when she walked around the bed. For someone composed of metal, she made very little noise. He rarely heard her when she moved around the house.

"That was an invitation to leave," he mumbled. He was not, in any way, a morning person. To John's dismay, she made no attempt to leave.

"You said my name," Cameron told him. John had no idea what she was talking about and looked at her questioningly. "When you were sleeping," she clarified.

John tried to remember if he had dreamed about her, but he couldn't remember dreaming at all. It wasn't that it would be weird if he had—his dreams had been filled with images of her for months—it was just that he didn't particularly want her to know that piece of information.

"You probably just thought you heard it," he said, trying to get her to drop the subject. Not that he truly thought she would.

"I'm not programmed to make mistakes," she told him. John sighed. He should've expected that response.

"Just drop it, okay?" he asked, though it was more of a harsh command than a question. Cameron stared at him for a moment. She then blinked and cocked her head slightly to the side.

"I dream about you too," she told him and then began walking toward the door. As soon as this statement had enough time to sink in, John sat up.

"Wait," he said. "You can dream?" If she couldn't sleep, how could she dream? John's mind was spinning in a million directions. If she could dream, why did she dream about him? What kinds of dreams were they? Did she kill him? Save him? He swallowed as the next thought crossed his mind—or did she dream about him the way he dreamed about her? He doubted it.

Cameron turned around with the same blank look she always had on her face.

"Yes," she said, "I can dream."

"But how?" John asked incredulously. "You don't sleep."

Cameron walked closer to the bed and sat down near John's feet.

"I don't dream the way you do," she told him. John was getting frustrated with the lack of answers he was getting. She had woken him way to early in his—and the rest of the world's—opinion, and now he wanted something out of it.

"What does that mean?" he asked, half angry. Cameron stared out of the window straight ahead and watched the trees blowing in the wind.

"When I'm inert I see clips of jumbled up memories," she told him. "They are all of you."

So it isn't true dreaming, John thought. It's just her way of sorting through memories. He felt somewhat let down that she wasn't talking about the type of dreaming that he experienced.

"What kind of memories?" he asked. Cameron turned her head towards him.

"All of them," she said. John resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He never once received a straight answer from her.

Cameron surprised him by moving so that she was lying back on the bed beside him. She placed her arms behind her head and stared at the ceiling. He waited for her to speak, but she never did. For a moment they sat in silence listening to the wind and the sound of tree branches hitting the window.

"Was Riley telling the truth?" John asked. "I mean, about you and me in the future?" It had been a question he had wanted to ask for a while, but had been afraid to. However, something about her being less than an inch away from him gave him the courage to finally ask.

Cameron turned toward him as he propped himself up on his elbow and faced her, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know," she replied. "Future John erased a lot of my memories before sending me here."

John wasn't sure if he was happy or disappointed. On one hand, he had wanted it to be true. He was past denying that he felt nothing for the cyborg lying next to him. On the other hand, she was a terminator. Having a relationship with her would be… complicated, to say the least. Not to mention the fact that his uncle would want to kill him—but not after he had killed Cameron first.

"But can you…love?" John asked. Cameron turned her head and stared back up at the ceiling.

"I don't know," she said once again, and then slowly got up from the bed. John positioned him self so that his back was resting against the head board of his bed.

"I don't understand you most of the time," John told her. Cameron cocked her head to the side and then slowly raised her arm and touched John's shoulder lightly with her fingertips.

"Go back to sleep," she told him. "You're safe."

John was more confused than ever. Where had that come from?

"Wha—" he started, but she cut him off.

"Sweet dreams," she told him robotically, and then walked toward the door. John watched mesmerized as she opened the door and stepped out. Before she closed the door back, he could've sworn he saw her smile.


this story is taking a completely different direction than I had originally planned, but i like it anyways.

review please :)