Title: Some Thing to Watch Over Me
Fandom: Sarah Connor Chronicles
Pairings: Riley/Cameron, John/Riley, John/Cameron, Riley/Jessie, Jessie/Derek, John/Riley/Cameron.
Timeline/Spoilers: Takes place during the first half of Season 2, after 2x08, "Mr. Ferguson Is Ill Today" but before the half-season finale. Spoilers for the first half of Season 2. Also spoilers for Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm and Becoming Jane.
Summary: Termination is not an option, so Cameron must rely on other tactics to neutralize the threat Riley poses.
Rating: NWS
A/N: Epigraph from Kate Douglas Wiggin, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. Special thanks to my betas, anonymous_sibyl, present_pathos, and tacky_tramp. This was written before I saw any episodes of the second half of the Season 2; I don't know which I feared most, being jossed or kripked.
Some Thing to Watch Over Me
Then come what will of weal or woe
(Since all gold hath alloy),
Thou 'lt bloom unwithered in this heart,
My Rose of Joy!
--R.R.R.
X.
When Cameron returns, it's in the truck, with John, and there's a large mass in the back covered by a canvas which Riley assumes is the remains of the T-101, to be destroyed later.
Cameron pulls off Riley's shirt and examines the bullet wound, a couple inches to the left of Riley's navel. "It's missed the major organs," the machine pronounces, "but we need to stop the bleeding." She rips Riley's shirt in two pressing one side against the entry wound and one against the exit wound. John wraps duct tape around her waist, sticky side facing out, to keep them in and Cameron go on to splint Riley's leg, then help her into the truck.
Nobody says anything as they drive back to John's. Riley's afraid to; she's blown her cover, to Cameron at least, by recognizing the T-101. But the machine doesn't say anything as she drives and John's done that thing where he's in his own world, although he does occasionally glance back at Riley. The machine carries Riley out of the truck and through the house, laying her down on Cameron's bed.
"Thanks," she says, looking up from the bed, at the machine, who served as her protector, standing between her and death.
"No problem," says Cameron with a soft smile. "You should get some rest; you're going to need your energy to heal."
Riley smiles back. "What frail creatures we mortals be," she says, then closes her eyes and within minutes sleep has claimed her.
XI.
"She can't go back to her foster parents," John points out, as Cameron knew he would with 97.3% certainty. "If SkyNet is after her, she'd be a sitting duck there."
Sarah sighs. She doesn't like it (the probabilities that she wouldn't had approached unity) but Cameron knows she knows that John is right. "How do you know you're not the one who programmed it to kill her?" Sarah questions.
"John wouldn't do that," Cameron answers simply. "Even when he should."
"She can stay here until she's healed," Sarah decides, leaving unsaid what they're going to do with the girl when that time comes. There's an 80% chance that Sarah herself hasn't decided yet.
Sarah gets up to leave, then turns back to John. "Yes, mom," he says before she even says anything, "if I didn't draw Riley into this, she wouldn't be involved. I know that."
Sarah nods, then exits. Cameron crosses the room, stands next to him. "It's not your fault," she tells him.
"No, she's right," John says. "I put her in danger just by being with her."
Cameron puts a hand on John's shoulder. "Riley was always a part of this. You didn't do that."
John pulls away. "What then? You're telling me it was fate, like my mom meeting my dad?"
"Not fate," Cameron answers. "That timeline has been overwritten. The future is mutable."
"Then what?"
Cameron shrugs, an emotionless rise and fall of her shoulders. "I'm still collating the data," she tells him.
He looks at her. It's the look he gives her when he's not just surprised or confused by something she's done or said, but when he recognizes that there are reasons and motivations at work which he doesn't understand. It is a look laced with more than a little suspicion and awe.
Then he shakes his head, crosses the room, and sits down in an armchair in the corner. "I guess we're going to have to tell her everything now," he says. "Mexico was bad enough, but now she's going to have to be on the run for the rest of her life."
Cameron sits down on the arm of the chair. "You should be happy," she informs him. "Now you don't have to keep secrets from her."
"Yeah," John agrees with a decided lack of enthusiasm. "How do you tell someone you're the future salvation of humankind?"
Cameron graces him with a carefully gauged smile. "I can tell her if you want."
John collapses back into the chair, finally relaxes. "Thanks."
"No problem," Cameron says, standing up. "What are sisters for?" She leans over and kisses him on the temple.
She keeps smiling as she leaves the room, even when no one is watching any longer and the routine no longer serves any purpose. Execution of mission objectives are all on track.
XII.
Riley wakes quickly, sensing movement in the bedroom. She's learned to be a light sleeper ever since Judgment Day, it being an essential survival skill. When her eyes snap open and spy the machine it only compounds matters. Instincts kick in and she makes to flee until her side and leg definitively veto the matter.
Ouch.
"Easy," cautions Cameron, who is carrying some sort of tray,
"Well, what do you expect if you barge in on somebody who's asleep?" Riley asks, mustering all the righteous indignation she can.
"I brought you some soup," Cameron says, putting the tray down on the nightstand near the bed.
"I'm not hungry."
"You lost blood," Cameron reminds her softly. "You need to replenish your fluids."
Cameron gently slides a hand under Riley's back and gradually lifts her up, propping up pillows behind her. The covers fall off her and Riley realizes that her torn shirt has been replaced with fresh bandages, the duct tape with gauze. Her jeans and bra have been removed, the latter replaced with a loose white t-shirt. Maybe she's not as light a sleeper as she thought.
Riley reluctantly lets Cameron spoon-feed her the soup, as she's far too weak to do anything else. Once the first sip of the soup passes her lips, she's eager for more, suddenly much hungrier and thirstier than she thought. But Cameron's movements are slow, deliberate, not letting Riley consume too much too fast.
"It's good," Riley is forced to admit. "Campbell's?"
"Artificial preservatives may increase the chance of cancer," Cameron informs her. "The research is inconclusive. I made it myself."
"You can cook?"
"I found a recipe," Cameron answers. Her expression is deadpan, naturally, but Riley has the distinct impression that the machine is toying with her. "I'm very good at following instructions."
Riley laughs. It hurts. "Did you kill the chicken yourself?"
Cameron looks at Riley. She has that faraway look that machines get when they're processing, as if she's not sure whether Riley's joking or not. Riley's not sure herself, actually.
"The chicken came from the store," Cameron finally answers. "It was already dead."
Riley nods. The bowl of soup is almost empty.
"I told John I'd tell you what was going on," Cameron says. The obvious truth, that Riley doesn't need to be told because she already knows, hangs unsaid between them, unnecessary.
"Why didn't you tell him--" Riley breaks off, unable to put into words even now how she's misled John, betrayed him.
"My programming requires me to neutralize any and all threats to John Connor," Cameron informs her. "Termination is optional." She looks pointedly at Riley's wound. "You are no longer a threat."
She doesn't want to, but Riley forces herself to ask it anyway. "And if I become a threat again?"
As expected, the machine's eyes hold neither mercy nor absolution. "Then the threat will be dealt with."
XIII.
There's not a TV in Cameron's room--there isn't much of anything in Cameron's room, really, except for the machine's clothes and a bed Riley suspects was never used before she took it over--but Cameron does manage to produce a copy of Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm and New Chronicles of Rebecca besides. It's not the copy Riley bought at the mall, which is still at Riley's foster parents', but a different edition, checked out from a local library. Riley accepts the book eagerly, grateful for a way to kill some of the hours she's going to be confined to the machine's bed.
She's just over two-thirds of the way through the first book--Rebecca's just started at Wareham Academy--when John sticks his head in the door. "Hey," he says.
"Hey."
"Cameron said--she said she told you everything," John says entering the room and sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Yeah," says Riley, the lie coming easily to her lips.
"Pretty unreal, huh?"
Riley doesn't know what to say. It's this which is unreal--living in John Connor's house, being his girlfriend, being fed chicken soup by a cyborg, not having to worry about where her next meal is coming from. Judgment Day, on the other hand, is all too real to her.
"Yeah," she says. "Machines from the future? It's kinda hard to believe. But then I think about what I've seen, and it all seems to fit."
John nods, pensive. "And Cameron's told you that she's--"
"A machine? Yeah. I always knew there was something weird about your sister."
John smiles. "And I never argued with you about that."
"Are you sure you can trust her?" Riley asks. "I mean, how do you know she won't--"
"I know," he says, and he is so sure, so confident, that she almost believes him. She wants to believe him. But she can't; metal is metal.
"All this," John says, continuing, "I wouldn't be able to do it without her. She's my . . . my strength." Then as if suddenly realizing that that's really not the sort of thing you say about another woman to your girlfriend, he looks at her. Like really looks at her, not just staring in her general direction but looking at her like he really sees her. "How are you doing?" he asks.
"I'm okay," she answers. "Hurts like hell, but your--Cameron--gave me something. Don't know what it is, but works a hell of a lot better than Tylenol."
John just nods, not taking his eyes off her. It's an exhilarating feeling, being watched by John Connor, having all the attention of the future leader of the resistance focused on her--so much that he doesn't even notice when Cameron enters the room.
"Excuse us," Riley says. Apparently that knocking thing was learned then forgotten.
"It's my room," Cameron points out, sensibly enough. "I need to get changed."
John nods, unable to refute her logic. He gets up to leave, but before he does he leans over and brushes his lips against Riley's. It's a quick kiss, just an instant's contact, but there's an electricity there that's always been missing before, and before he can go she reaches out and grabs him behind the neck. She's too weak to exert any real force, but he lets her pull him down until their lips meet again. This kiss is longer, deeper, more complete, a penetration more intimate in its way than any sex Riley's had.
When it ends and John finally retreats, she's suddenly conscious of Cameron watching, passively curious, the moment of such extreme intimacy having been exchanged under her ever-observant eye. She feels exposed, naked, as if shirt, blanket, and panties were stripped away from her. Still, the electricity continues, surging through her, even as John exits closing the door behind him, leaving Riley and Cameron alone in the room, and the machine begins to strip.
In her excited state, Riley can't help but notice the perfection of the machine's body, as shirt and pants are pulled off to reveal perfectly sculpted flesh.
It's deliberate, Riley knows, part of the design for her model, to enable her to better serve her function in SkyNet's nefarious plans. But these thoughts are driven away by the sheer physicality of Cameron's presence in the room, disabling Riley's higher cognitive functions as surely as if she had a chip and Cameron had hacked into it.
Cameron's underwear joins her clothes on the floor, and then the machine wraps herself in a towel and exits. Riley makes use of the time alone to masturbate furiously in the machine's bed, thinking this moment of John, that one of Cameron, and another of Jessie, as the faces transform from one into another in her mind.
When the machine returns from her shower, she's wet as well as naked, and as Cameron drops the towel to the ground, the desires so recently satiated (or so Riley had thought) swell up once again.
Cameron puts on a black bra and panties, then a pair of black slacks and a black blouse, followed by black boots and a black leather belt.
"Night mission?" Riley asks.
Cameron nods. "I'm getting your stuff. John said your room is on the third floor."
Riley nods. "In the back of the house, on the east side. There's nothing there, though, just stupid stuff."
Cameron doesn't blink. "You're going to need your clothes," she says. "And I'm going to need to return the books to the library."