Story Title: The Unvoiced
Chapter 4
Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator. I'm not making any money off this.
A/N: Sorry this took a little while longer. The holidays interfered and I had to complete another Terminator fanfic for a challenge on another site. Also this is where things get more complicated. The title has changed, but it's still tentative.
Cameron caught up to John quickly. He'd only gotten on the road a few minutes ahead of her. He didn't have her luck with transportation and hotwiring a car with one arm had been a challenge. So she met up with him and they left his vehicle on the side of the road. Reunited, John called Sarah while Cameron broke every traffic law known to man or cyborg. They made it home in less than 10 minutes.
Charlie still beat them there.
John didn't want to know how that conversation had gone. Being around Charlie always threw him for a loop. Too many questions about what might have been. He couldn't imagine what it was like for his mom.
But Charlie was a professional, if he felt as awkward as John it didn't show. He'd taken less than a second to unwrap the field dressing. And it was a crappy dressing. The best he could do with one arm and the sweater he found in the backseat.
"Talk to me Johnny. What happened?"
So John told him. He told Charlie everything he could remember: from first seeing the terminator to running into the parking lot and trying not to bleed all over the stolen car.
By the time he finished his mom was pacing like a caged animal.
"How the hell did this happen?" She railed at the cyborg.
John heard the real question, even if Cameron didn't.
How could you let this happen?
"Cromartie found us. He performed a school by school search for John." The cyborg dutifully replied.
She hadn't let him out of her sight since they met up on the road. At the moment she was standing within arms reach, scrutinizing Charlie's work. If he didn't know better, John would have thought she resented Charlie's presence.
"And you're sure you weren't followed?"
John thought that was a stupid question. He'd thought it was a stupid question the last time she asked. They wouldn't be sitting here if Cromartie was still on their trail. He took a deep breath, tried not to think about the pain. That's all it really was. He wasn't really frustrated with his mom. She wasn't even angry with Cameron. He knew his mother. He was injured and she felt helpless. She was in crisis mode now.
At least she'd stop pestering him about his homework for a while.
"We were not followed."
Silence reigned over the room, broken only by the sound of the newscast.
[An unknown assailant impersonating a police officer opened fire at a local high school.]
The school shooting was on every channel. Charlie was blocking his view but he could still hear it.
[Several students injured, at least one in critical condition.]
[The shooter remains at large.]
Sarah turned to the cyborg. "I bet the car has been reported by now. Dump it. Make it quick."
Cameron didn't move. She looked at John uncertainly.
"I'll be fine." He assured her.
With one last glance, she left the room.
John refused to meet his mother's eyes.
Another tense silence filled the room.
"There's the problem. Somebody shot you."
Until Charlie shattered it.
The look Sarah shot him would have melted coltan.
But he got a smirk out of John. Charlie was always good at that.
"You are incredibly lucky John. The bullet passed straight through, missed the bone. You'll make a full recovery."
Right. Lucky…
"What about the blood loss?"
Sarah was holding his torn and bloody T-shirt, twisting it in her hands. She was pacing again, clearly on edge.
"If you're that worried take him to an emergency room."
Maybe they were all on edge.
Before she could respond he continued. "I know. I know. It's not dangerous. He needs to stay in bed for a few days. The arm itself will be a couple of weeks."
That was a relief. True, Derek was a match. Speaking of Derek…
"Where's Derek?"
"By now he's heading to the supply drop."
John knew what that meant.
Charlie must have seen it on his face.
"What's going on?"
"We're running." She looked out the window. "As soon as it gets dark."
"What about the police? This guy shot up a school. They're gonna be all over him."
Sarah was already shaking her head. "The police can't stop him. They can't protect us."
They couldn't protect him. So they were running, there was no talking her out of it, not with a hole in his arm. Cromartie was too close. He knew who John Baum really was. It was the right decision.
So why did it feel like giving up?
"Ah, Sarah can you get a glass of water?" Charlie was holding up a pair of white pills.
John shared a look with his mother. "It won't put me to sleep will it?"
Charlie sighed, "That wouldn't be a bad thing. But no, it'll just take the edge off. I'll give you something stronger for later."
Derek could barely see the school from beyond the police perimeter. It wasn't the best place for a wanted man to be. But they'd made that decision when the news report first broke. Hiding among the crowd, he tried to look like just another curious onlooker.
Damn. The triple eight was nowhere in sight. He'd already talked to Sarah. John was home, injured but alive. He'd hung around, hoping to find some kind of trail to follow. Terminators weren't known for being discreet, not when they were so close to their target.
He needed to get to the supply drop. He knew Sarah Connor. She'd want to disappear.
Derek was halfway to the jeep when something felt wrong. He kept walking, pretended to fumble with his keys. Picking them off the asphalt he surveyed the parking lot.
Nothing.
He hadn't survived this long by not trusting his instincts. He pulled out his cell phone and hit the first number on his speed dial.
"Where the hell are you Reese?"
Sliding into the driver's seat, he tapped the keypad twice. "I think I've got a tail."
"The machine?"
Derek glanced at both side mirrors before reaching for the rearview, turning it left then right.
Still nothing.
"I don't see anything. But I'm going with my gut."
A pause. "Catch up to us later."
Derek started the car. It was going to be a long drive.
Sarah hung up the phone. This was a problem. She'd expected Derek to be on his way back by now. Charlie had left over an hour ago. Cameron would be back soon. They needed to move. But if Derek was being followed, or even suspected he was being followed… They couldn't afford to take any chances.
Sarah heard footsteps approaching the front door. She heard the deadbolt give, the handle turned.
And Cameron found herself staring down the business end of a shotgun.
"Next time knock."
"Where's John?"
The machine didn't wait for an answer.
By the time Sarah caught up to Cameron, she was already in his room. Sarah stopped at the sight of them. The machine was standing with John in the center of the room, one hand resting lightly on his injured arm.
John must have caught sight of her in the doorway. He gently took Cameron's hand in his and pulled it away.
"I'm fine." John gestured to his bed. "Sit down."
The cyborg obeyed sitting primly on the edge of his bed. John took the chair from his desk, setting it down in front of her. Then he started pulling items out of the first aid kit, already lying open next to her.
He must have been waiting for her.
John began patching her up, starting with the minor cuts on her face. He cleaned each cut methodically before applying a small band aid, covering up the small glints of metal. John was obviously more comfortable around the sight of ripped flesh and exposed metal than she was. But he still had to pause when she took off her jacket.
"Jesus, Cameron are you okay?"
Her left forearm was a mess, long jagged strips of flesh were missing halfway to the elbow. The remaining flesh was torn, pieces hanging off the limb. It was a gruesome sight, even for a machine.
"The wound will close within 40 hours."
"That's not the point."
No, it wasn't the point. But it should have been. He was too close to the machine.
Treating her injured arm was a challenge. With John's left arm in a sling they had to work together. And they did, setting the gauze and handing the roll of bandages back and forth between them, wrapping her forearm.
Sarah felt a now familiar turning in her stomach. She needed a distraction.
"Tell me what happened at the school. I want to know everything."
Sarah didn't expect to learn anything significant. She'd questioned John several times already.
While her eyes never strayed from John's hands, Cameron began retelling her version of the day's events. She just didn't get very far. She'd only just mentioned getting Morris involved when John interrupted her.
John stared at her, exasperated. "You sent Morris? Did you even consider what could happen to him?"
"No. Morris' safety was not a concern."
John sighed, "Cameron."
He looked exhausted but he finished wrapping her arm."We'll talk about this later."
"You're handling this well." Sarah observed.
He really was. She'd expected a much bigger outburst and not because Morris was his friend. To John every life was important. He had tried to teach that to the other machine.
Cameron rotated her wrist, testing the bandage. Apparently satisfied, she smiled at John before facing Sarah. "The risk to Morris was low. When I analyzed the threat's endoskeletal structure I identified him as Cromartie. He would most likely move on without harming him."
Sarah rolled her eyes at the machine's logic. It was perfect. And completely lacking compassion. She was about to say as much when she glanced at John.
This time he was frozen. His entire body tense.
"You knew it was him? In the hallway… when you lied to me."
She should have looked at Cameron, should have demanded an answer. But she couldn't tear her eyes away from John. The way he was acting, the sudden change in his behavior… It was like looking at a stranger.
"Yes.", Cameron answered simply.
John's face was a mask, betraying nothing, "Get out of my room."
The only sound in the room came from John restocking the first aid kit.
Cameron shot a puzzled look at John's back. "Is something wrong?"
John snapped the kit shut. "Get out."
Cameron looked at Sarah, possibly for an explanation. Sarah glared back. The seconds dragged until finally, Cameron left the room.
With the machine gone and the door closed, the tension in the room dropped, but didn't disappear completely. They needed to talk about this. The machine had lied to them again. She expected John to be angry, maybe even hurt. But standing there, watching him. She knew there was more to it than that.
But they were running late.
"Change of plans, we're not waiting on Derek. 20 minutes."
A quick nod was her only response.
Sarah opened the door and left the room to find Cameron standing just outside, literally just beyond the threshold.
"Is John grieving?"
It really didn't understand her son at all.
She'd never admit it but that was comforting.
"Load the car."
Fifteen minutes later she was outside, trying to conceal a shotgun in the backseat of the car. Looking at the storm clouds growing overhead, Sarah let out a sigh of frustration. Not even the weather was on their side.
John walked out of the house with a single bag. They always traveled light.
"I'm ready."
"How's the arm?"
"Fine."
Satisfied they'd pass a casual inspection, Sarah shut the door. Another long silence settled in. "Back there-"
John cut her off. "She lied to me. That's what she was programmed to do."
Now it made sense to her. This wasn't just about Cameron...
Distantly she heard a clap of thunder.
"We have to trust his judgment."
Dammit. Your judgment. That's what she meant to say. But it was hard sometimes, to think of the boy standing in front of her as the general already fighting the war.
John didn't seem to notice the slip.
Sarah reached out, grabbed him by his good arm. "Now's not the time. We need to trust the decisions you've made."
"He made."
So he had noticed. Maybe he just agreed with it.
They weren't ready to talk about that. Not now. It was a hole they might not be able to climb out of.
Sarah looked back at the sky. There was a flash of lightening, a heartbeat later, thunder. But the storm had yet to break.
"John, let's go."
Charlie Dixon wasn't much of a drinker. After everything he'd seen, as both a paramedic and as an associate of Sarah Connor, he probably should have been. But he'd been sitting in front of the TV for a while now and he'd barely finished his third beer.
Every channel was still covering the shooting. And as much as he wanted to stop thinking about Sarah and John, he couldn't bring himself to turn it off.
Sometimes he wished he'd never met Sarah Reese.
She really was a different person back then. He liked to imagine that part of the woman he loved was still there. But there were times, like today, when he didn't know who he was talking to.
The things she had to do, the things that she had to put John through, to survive.
The FBI agent, Ellison, had mocked them. He'd asked if Charlie saw John as some kind of "Luke Skywalker-type", capable of saving the world. It was hard enough knowing what they were going through. But knowing that everyone though Sarah was crazy, that John was just a delinquent…
He heard a creak from the hallway. Michelle was home. Great, now all he had to do was explain where he was today and why he was drinking. He decided to take the initiative before she got the wrong idea. After all, killer robots from the future were better than infidelity.
Right?
Except that Michelle wasn't that tall, or male, and didn't usually point a gun at him.
"Charlie Dixon?"
Well, not just a break in then.
"No. But if you see him don't tell him I was here."
That got a very annoyed look from the mystery man. Charlie took another swig, emptying the bottle.
Apparently the guy was short on patience. "Funny. I need you to make a call."
Before he could respond with another pointless, but funny comment, the mysterious stranger continued talking. Turned out he had a lot to say: who he was, why he was here, and where/when he was from. He even had the decency to lower his gun but he didn't put it away.
With very few options, and reasoning that at least a heads-up would do them some good, Charlie pulled out his cell phone.
"Sarah.", he managed before she started yelling at him. "Listen. There's some guy here. He says John sent him… sent him back."
