Author's Note: Alrighty guys! Hope you enjoyed that last chapter! I know I did! Anyway, here's chapter 9. ENJOY!
P.S. – BIG SHOUTOUT TO ALL THOSE PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN READING AND REVIEWING! YOUR FEEDBACK MEANS A LOT TO ME! THANKS A LOT, GUYS! :D
Disclaimer: I own…a purple mag-light flashlight. WOO HOO MAG-LIGHTS! XD
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Nik's P.O.V.
When all the boxes were above ground and stacked somewhat-neatly by a picnic table, Sarah informed me, John and the terminator that the pickup Enrique was lending her was in sore need of repair. So, we put a tarp underneath the truck, grabbed a toolbox, laid on our backs, and got to work without Sarah even speaking to us. Really, she didn't need to say anything - her stating that the car was partially fucked up was enough of an order to us.
For a while, all we really did was just poke and feel around at the underside to find out what the hell was going on with the pickup. At first, the only thing we got out of that was grease and other crap up to our fucking elbows (I'll just say, that's probably the dirtiest I've ever been); but then the terminator found something weird going on with the water pump, and that was the end of the blind-pawing.
"Well, thank god that's over," I said as I wiped the grease off my arms with a towel. "Was wondering when that was gonna end."
John frowned. "Why? Were you getting pissed off that we were taking so long to find the bum part?"
I shook my head as a smirk played across my face. "Nah, I was getting sick of having my arms all caked in grease and shit."
"Ha, you obviously aren't cut out to be a mechanic," John snorted playfully.
I stuck my tongue out at him, and smacked him on the arm lightly. "Oh what, and you are?"
"Big time." John caught a rusty bolt in his hand as it fell out from the bottom, and tossed it off to the side. "I know enough about cars to be a decent mechanic. Hell, if this war against the machines wasn't supposed to happen, I could probably make a living fixing cars."
"Probably." I blinked thoughtfully for a moment, then started chewing on my bottom lip. "Where the hell did you even learn about patching up cars?"
John shrugged. "Believe it or not, one of my mom's boyfriends was a mechanic. I honestly didn't buy it 'til he asked me to help him fix his old Mustang." He sighed, and briefly tapped his chin, thinking of other things he could tell me. "Yeah, most of the guys my mom hung around with were geeks, but there was this one guy - he was kinda' cool. He taught me engines."
"What happened to him?"
"Mom screwed it up, of course," he frowned. "She'd always tell him about Judgment Day and me being this world leader, and that would be all she wrote."
I snorted. "That's not surprising."
"Yep...typical mom..." As he passed a torque wrench to the terminator, a wistful look welled up on John's face.
"I wish I coulda' met my real dad."
"You will," the terminator said to him in a low voice.
"Yeah, I guess...when I'm, like, forty-eight, I think."
I nodded. "Yeah, somewhere around there."
"What I figured," John half-smiled. His face then scrunched up, and his eyebrows furrowed. "Hey Nik, did I ever tell you 'bout my dad?"
"I dunno...no, I don't think so." I looked at John curiously. "What's the story with him?"
"Well," he began, "he's actually one of my soldiers during the war - roundabout seventeen, eighteen, something like that. Name's Kyle Reese."
"Your dad was seventeen when he got your mom knocked up?" I shook my head, and shuddered slightly. "Sorry, but that's a little...creepy, dontcha think?"
"I guess so." John absent-mindedly began to spin a wrench around his hand like it was my swiss army knife before continuing. "I sent him back in time to 1981. Man, he hasn't even been born yet...ugh, it messes with your head."
"Yeah, I'll say. My head's spinning and my brain's about to explode from trying to make sense of all that," I commented.
"Ha, I've had that feeling for the last couple of years now." John rolled onto his stomach, and looked at his mom, who was currently messing around with a CAR-15 rifle and a bunch of other junk laid out on a picnic table. He sighed. "Mom and him were together for only one night," he said. "She still loves him, I guess. I see her crying sometimes." John paused, then began to chuckle. "She denies it totally, of course, like she got something stuck in her eye."
"That's not surprising, either."
The terminator rolled over onto his right side, and shot John a look of innocent curiosity. "Why do you cry?"
"You mean people?"
"Yes."
John shrugged one shoulder. "I dunno, we just cry...you know, when it hurts."
"Yeah," I agreed quietly, my thoughts rewinding to the dream I had early in the morning, and the memory of sobbing into John's shoulder. "When it hurts."
The terminator simply nodded, and rolled out from under the car with a thoughtful expression on his face. John and I followed suit, and stood up, brushing off the pale dirt that had collected on our sides and backs.
Gah, I feel so grubby!
Out of the blue, the terminator asked, "Pain causes it?"
I made a so-so motion with my hand. "Eh, sorta'."
"Uhh...no, it's different," John explained as he continued dusting himself off. "It's when there's nothing wrong with you, but you're hurt anyways. You get it?"
"No." The terminator stuck his arm into the car, and started the ignition. The car grumbled for a few seconds, then finally snarled to life. At that, I threw my fist in the air, and John pumped his arm.
"Alright, my man!"
"No problemo."
"Gimme five!" John then stuck his hand out, and waited for the terminator to smack it with his own.
Thing was though, the terminator looked like he had no idea of what the hell John was doing, or what he was supposed to do. I bit my lip.
"Hey, uh, John? I'm thinkin' it might be a good idea to explain to our buddy the whole high-five thing, 'cause I don't think he's getting it."
John's face reddened a little. "Oops. Yeah, that would be good." He turned back to the terminator. "Just stick your hand out like this" - he held his hand out, palm facing up - "c'mon!"
With a confused frown, the terminator cautiously stuck his hand out. As soon as that happened, John slapped it with his hand, then held it up, palm-side. "Alright, now hit me. Gimme five. Just do the same thing, do the same thing."
I choked down the giggle that had started to build in my throat as I watched John teach the terminator the high-five. If you ask me, watching these two was like watching reverse father-son bonding, and truth be told, it was pretty fucking entertaining to see, probably even more entertaining than watching John berate Tim for no apparent reason. Yeah - that good.
Anyway, the terminator stared at John's hand before moving his; he raised it over his head, then brought it down on John's, where their palms met with a loud SMACK!
At first, John was pretty hyped up over that, even going so far as to cheer "Alright!" But, the hype quickly turned into discomfort as the pain in his hand sunk in. "Ah, shit," John cussed under his breath as he shook his hand.
I smirked. "Hey, you asked for it, John."
"Oh, shut up Nik," John shot back jokingly before grinning at me. That grin sent excited chills tearing up and down my spine.
It took a moment for me to get ahold of myself. When I did, I told John to show the terminator Up High and Down Low.
"Ooh, good one!" John immediately raised his hand, and ordered the terminator to hit it on "Up high!" Then, "Down low!"
The terminator went to hit John's hand, but at the very last second, John moved his hand back, and the terminator missed. "Ha ha, too slow!" he grinned evilly.
For that, he got as good of a pissy look as the terminator could conjure up.
"I'm just kidding!" John lightly hit him on the arm. "C'mon, lets try it again."
While they repeated the high-five procedure, I decided to sneak away, sit down, and take a little breather until I was needed for something important. So, that's what I did - I snuck off to the nearest picnic bench, sat down on one end, and just watched what was in front of me. At one point, I found a Beretta 92 sitting behind me on the table, and I had the sudden urge to futz around with it. I quickly grabbed it, made sure the safety was on, then started spinning it around on my finger idly.
For a while, I just sat at the bench, spinning the Beretta around, watching Yolanda play with her two-year old and the other kids run around with their dogs, watching the sunset and observing how it backlit everything in front of me. I breathed contently, enjoying my first real moment of peace since all of this mayhem had even started. Hell, if things weren't the way they were at the moment, this might even be normal.
Wonder if I'll have moments like these when the war rolls around...if I even get that far...
I glanced over at John, and smiled softly as I watched him load guns and other crap into the back of the pickup with the terminator.
Wonder if I'll ever see him again...
All of a sudden, the sun flared up. I threw my hands up to shield my eyes, and...
I'm dying, bullets in my back, blood slowly leaking out of me as I lie on red-tinted dirt. John sees me, screams, cries, holds me - but I can't hear or feel him. It's like I'm deaf. I try to reach out to him, touch his shoulder, but it's like he's millions of miles away from me. I die in his arms.
Three years pass. I'm somehow alive again, and I'm watching the world burn. Fire, fire everywhere I turn. Everything I see is burning. The whole world is on fire. As I watch, I sob, knowing that Judgment Day has happened. And it's all because of Miles Dyson and his creation - all because somebody didn't stop him when the time was right.
Thirty-two years pass. I'm watching John run for his life. Except for the fact that he's taller and a bit more solidly built, he still looks the same. He's forty-eight now. I realize that he and I would be the same age now, if I were still alive. Oh god, he's running so fast. He has a rifle in one hand and an explosives detonator in the other.
He's found the brain of Skynet, and has rigged it to blow - on his command. That explains why he's moving so quickly.
But, there's a red flag going up in the back of my head. He shouldn't be doing this - I should be doing this. Something feels wrong, VERY WRONG. Why the hell doesn't John have backup? What's happening right now that's causing John to fly solo on this?
Then, I see the blood-covered rock John is sprinting towards, see the corpse that has been violated by a gaping knife wound to the chest, see the twisted heap of metal beside the body - and I watch it become a suit-clad T-1000. Horror floods my mind as I put the pieces together. John HAD backup, but his backup's been killed by this exotic murdering machine, this T-1000.
And now, it's going to kill John Connor.
I scream and yell at John to look out, or run back, SOMETHING, just NOT go to the rock. But he can't hear me - I'm a mute against my own will. Still, I continue to scream at John to stop moving forward, and start moving backward.
At this point, he's a yard or two away from the rock - and the T-1000. I'm doing everything in my power to get him to notice me, notice that he's in danger. GODDAMMIT, I NEED TO BE THERE!
Suddenly, the T-1000 produces a pistol from within his liquid metal body, and cocks it. He has it aimed directly at John, his index finger poised right before the trigger. He breathes slowly, waiting for John to run by.
John veers right, thinking he's returning to his buddy. But, he's instead greeted by the T-1000 - and three shots to the chest.
I scream, so loudly that I feel like it could shatter glass to billions of pieces. I scream until my throat's raw and ragged, and watch helplessly as John Connor, the boy I'd fallen in love with, my best friend, falls to the ground, his life escaping his body. The last thing he says before he hits the ground is my name. "Nik," he whispers softly.
Then, the lights leave his eyes, and John dies.
I break down then, and I sob, howl, shriek in agony - but now, even I can't hear myself. It's like somebody's hit my 'mute' button. I'm now fading away as quickly as humanity is from this life-giving planet.
The war's been lost, and it's all because of me - it's all because I die at the hands of the T-1000.
I was dry-heaving and crying in horrified silence when the vision finally ended. I honestly couldn't believe what I'd just seen, what I'd just felt - Judgment Day, and the havoc it wreaked; John's death, and the hope of winning the war that it stole from the resistance; and the annihilation of the human race.
So much destruction, I thought. All because I die, and Miles Dyson lives.
Dyson. HE was responsible. Judgment Day, the war, the lives lost - EVERYTHING, because of him and his creation.
As more tears ran down my face, I looked at John. He was sitting on a table with the terminator, talking with him animatedly. The terminator said something, and John laughed. He looked and sounded so happy, so at ease now. At first, my heart clenched when I thought of how quickly that happiness would disappear from John at the beginning of the war; then, it broke into millions of pieces when I remembered what happened in my vision, and how the life in him left as quickly as his blood left the exit wounds in his back.
NO.
I wasn't going to let John die like that. I wasn't going to stand by and simply allow my best friend to bleed to death.
I wasn't going to let Miles Dyson build his motherfucking microprocessor, either, and just let him kill millions of innocent people. I would fucking DIE before I let that happen.
I made a choice, then. I would do whatever it took to make sure John lived, and to make sure that the world was spared from the destructive horror of Judgment Day.
Starting with that murdering fuck Dyson.
Remembering the Beretta in my hand, I shoved the barrel of the gun into my pants, and briskly walked away to find Sarah. In this situation, she was the only person who would understand why I was so intent on killing Miles Dyson. Hell, knowing her, she'd probably want to kill him, too, for the awful things that he does.
I found her loading the CAR-15 rifle and some ammo in the back of the station wagon. I didn't have to ask her what she was doing; I already knew that she was saddling up and getting ready to put Dyson down for good.
I strode over to her. "Sarah," I began. "I-"
"NO," she snapped sharply before I could even finish my sentence. "If you came to stop me, then don't bother. My answer's-"
"Take me with you."
Sarah immediately stopped what she was doing, and gave me a hard glare. "What? No! I'm not taking you with me!" Her lips curled into a disgusted sneer when she noticed the Beretta holstered in my pants. "You can't even shoot a damn gun!"
"Oh yeah?" Without hesitating, I whipped the pistol out of my pants, turned off the safety, aimed the barrel at a small cactus behind Sarah, and blew a hole through one of its arms, unfazed by the loudness and recoil of the shot. I then turned the safety back on, and narrowed my eyes at Sarah.
"Can too, bitch. Now look - I have my reasons for wanting to kill Dyson, too. I can either explain them to you right here, right now, or I can do that in the car. But, either way Sarah, I'm coming with you, and I really don't give a fuck if you like it or not."
For a moment, Sarah simply stared at me, stunned by my boldness. Then, she inhaled sharply through her nose, and exhaled, mild swears mingling with her breath.
She pointed at the wagon. "Get in the car."
I was in the passenger seat before she'd even finished speaking.
Sarah followed suit, and started the car. The sound of it firing up caught John's attention; through the rear-view mirror, I saw his head snap up, and his eyes widen. He made a mad dash for us as Sarah put the car in gear.
"MOM! MOM! MOM, WAIT!"
We didn't bother; Sarah slammed her foot down on the gas, and the station wagon was propelled forward. As we sped away from Enrique's camp, I rolled down my window, and looked back at John. His eyes locked with mine for a brief second; all I could see in them were hurt and confusion, so much hurt and confusion that I had to turn away.
I have to do this.
"I'm sorry John," I said to his shrinking reflection in the rear-view mirror, "but this is for your own good."
"That's why you're coming, aren't you...you're doing this for my son."
Shit, she heard me.
I decided to play dumb. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play stupid with me, kid. I've seen the way you look at John when he's around. It's obvious you have feelings for my son." Sarah cut the wheel hard, and the station wagon veered to the left as we got on the highway again, only this time we were going in the opposite direction. "It may not be obvious to him, but it's obvious to me, Nik."
I scowled as I stared out my window at the other cars passing by us. "That's partly why I'm taggin' along with you."
"Oh, there's more to it?" Sarah snorted. Sarcastically, she added, "This oughta' be good."
All of a sudden, I wheeled on Sarah with a snarl, and jabbed my finger in her face. "You wanna know why I'm doing this, Sarah? Because if I don't, one - Miles Dyson is gonna nuke the fucking world to hell; two - I'm gonna get shanked to death by the liquid-metal man; and three - John is gonna DIE trying to stop the war and save humanity if I'm not there to fucking save him!"
On that last note, Sarah's eyes widened in horror. "How-how do you know-"
"BECAUSE I SAW HIM DIE! I SAW WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF I DIED RIGHT NOW AND MILES FUCKING DYSON LIVED!" I shrieked as enraged tears welled up in my eyes. "IF I'M KILLED, AND JOHN'S KILLED, THE ENTIRE WAR WILL BE LOST AND HUMANITY'S FUCKED AND GONE!" I bent over, and covered my face with my hands, my body shaking from the enormous rush of adrenaline I just had. I shook my head, and drew in a quivering breath of air. "I'm in love with your son, Sarah. I care about him WAY too much to let him go out like that, after all he's gone through. I can't let him die."
Sarah didn't say anything to me; instead, she stared straight ahead at the highway and focused on driving the station wagon. I was thankful for that - I wasn't in the mood to talk anymore.
I straightened up after a few minutes, and watched cars in the far right lane go by from my window with a grim heaviness in my heart.
If this goes well, I thought, John, I hope you have it in you to understand and forgive me.
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WOOT! So, we now officially know why Nik is so important! COOLNESS! :D Hope you guys enjoy this chappie, and stay posted for chapter 10! R&R! REVIEWS ARE POWER! ;)
