'Tech team needs ten minutes to set up. Then we can start.'

As one of Kate's assistants turned to her with this statement, Marcus sighed inwardly. It had been a long day, and clearly, it was still far from over.

Left to himself for a few minutes in between procedures, he sat waiting on an exam table in one corner of the room; a brief but welcome breather. He hung his head for a moment, shutting his eyes briefly against the harsh lights positioned around him, and bright spots of color appeared against the darkness in his head.

He would never have admitted it, but the day's events had left him feeling emotionally and physically wrung out. He'd already been through every conceivable kind of medical exam possible, beginning with a thorough physical, all the way up to several complex procedures that had been less than pleasant to undergo. It had been unsettling to have a whole team of strangers hovering around him all day, studying and recording his every move, making no effort to disguise the fact that they saw him as a walking science experiment. And some of the tests had been invasive and even painful, especially since, as Kate had explained, they'd avoided the use of anesthetics or sedatives to better monitor the extent to which he felt pain and other sensations. It turned out that the internal structure of his body was a lot more complex that they could have imagined, with organic and mechanical parts intricately intermeshed in ways they had never known were possible. The team had decided more detailed study was needed, so they'd gone on to carry out customized versions of several regular diagnostic procedures, to gather more information. None of it had been much fun, but Marcus had tried to tolerate it all without complaint. He now wanted only to be allowed to return to the suddenly welcome isolation of his room.

Instead, he sat waiting for the next procedure to begin.

They'd learned a lot about the functioning and capabilities of his body through the thorough testing. But perhaps nothing would be as telling as this next procedure, which would allow them to determine conclusively, once and for all, whether he truly was free from Skynet's control.

Despite his disturbing thoughts and recurring nightmares, Marcus knew that he'd broken the link to Skynet by ripping the chip out of his head. Logically speaking, there was a very remote chance that Skynet had implanted a secondary chip or other controlling device; he remembered the look on Serena's face – no, Skynet's version of Serena – when he'd done the unthinkable and rejected his programming, rejected his loyalty to Skynet. But, he supposed he couldn't blame the Connors for wanting to be sure. The only way they were going to be satisfied was to see for themselves.

Now he felt the sickening flutter of nerves deep in his gut as he sat watching the room slowly fill up with personnel. For a second he was tempted to pull Kate aside and tell her he'd had enough for one day, but he knew it was pointless; there was no avoiding this.

It was an odd assortment of people that filtered in; there were of course Kate's medical people, some of whom had assisted Kate earlier, but there were some new faces too. Now, some members of Connor's tech team had showed up as well – he watched with muted unease as they wheeled in their equipment – and in one corner stood Barnes, flanked by two of his subordinates. Security detail, Marcus thought contemptuously. It made sense that Barnes would be present, of course, but Marcus didn't have to like it. He didn't like any of this...

Kate came up beside him. Folding her arms, she leaned against the table. Together they watched the proceedings in silence for a few seconds.

'Just giving them a few more minutes to set up,' she murmured. Marcus nodded.

She glanced at him. 'You need anything?' He shook his head.

'Warmer now?'

'Yeah, much better.'

'You should've said something sooner.'

He shrugged.

After hours spent shivering in the thin, well-worn hospital gown they'd given him, Marcus had finally told Kate he was cold, asking if he could put his clothes back on. She'd seemed surprised, immediately asking an assistant to bring him the t-shirt and pajamas he'd been wearing. And when she saw him fumbling with the clothes with his good hand, she'd come over to help. Marcus watched her out of the corner of his eye now, studying Kate's profile as she kept careful watch over the setup. Considering the way they'd started out, he mused, it was ironic that she was the one person in the room who'd treated him like a human being all day instead of the freak he was.

Now, as she moved off to consult with some of the technicians, Marcus felt the weight of someone's gaze on him. Looking up, he glanced instinctively across the room at Barnes, who was indeed watching him intently. For one instant, their eyes met and the two men looked straight at each other. If there was one person with whom Marcus had had minimal contact so far, it was Barnes, and staring at him now for a split second, Marcus found his expression impossible to read. It was obvious Barnes had watched that little exchange between him and Kate carefully, undoubtedly curious, suspicious... hateful? For my brother, he'd said as he loaded the gun, Marcus recalled now.

The metallic clattering of a trolley drew Marcus' attention, and he distractedly watched the flurry of activity as the computers and other machines were set up beside the rest of the medical equipment. He was still thinking about Barnes, about what the man had meant... Marcus felt a sad smile twist one corner of his mouth; wouldn't it be interesting to Barnes to know that he, Marcus, knew a thing or two about the pain of losing a brother – Then there was another loud clatter as somebody set down a tray of tools down noisily nearby, and looking at them, Marcus froze.

Throughout the day, he'd tried to contain the emotions that had been running riot behind his deceptively impassive face. He'd swallowed down the bile rising in his throat as he saw images of his metal insides on the monitors, and tried to shake the sense of unreality that kept washing over him as he listened to various discussions on how his mechanical parts and biological parts interfaced. Time and again when he just wanted to bolt from the room, he'd maintained his composure.

But now, as he stared at the tray full of tools glinting under the bright light – not the medical instruments they'd used on him all day, but the kind of tools one would find in a high-end computer hardware shop back in the day – he felt an unpleasant jolt course through his body. Suddenly, he was engulfed by a rage so blinding that there was a faint ringing sound in his ears, a tightness in his head as his blood throbbed at his temples. He wanted to pick up the tray and fling it across the room.

From an early age Marcus' one innate talent had been his remarkable ability to take apart and fix almost anything electronic or mechanical. He'd literally spent his life tinkering with machines, first for fun, and eventually in increasingly more questionable ways... How fucked up was it then, that all these years later he himself was the machine, stuck in this living nightmare. He felt a violent, deperate hatred for Serena Kogan, and her fellow scientists at Cyberdene, and at the dastardly entity that was Skynet; he hated them all for what they'd done to him, dehumanizing him, robbing him of his basic dignity.

And now these people, the same people who'd strung him up like a criminal, who'd hunted him down like an animal, were going to use these, these tools on him... Wait, he wanted to yell out. You still don't understand. I'm not what you think. Please.

'Marcus, are you ready?'

Kate's voice from across the room broke in on his thoughts. She was looking at him with concern, and Marcus realized he must look visibly upset. For a moment he could do little more than stare back at her in barely concealed anguish. But, almost immediately, a thought came to him with forceful clarity; no matter what they had done to him or were about to do, if Kate Connor of all people could learn to see enough humanity in him to look at him like that, then he'd better man up and accept that the situation could have been worse, much worse. And so, his throat tight, he swallowed down his anger and panic. 'Yeah,' he replied finally, feeling everyone's eyes on him.

Kate's eyes lingered questioningly on him for half a second longer before she turned to the assembled group. 'Allison?'

A slightly heavyset black woman with cropped hair stepped forward. 'Okay,' she began tentatively, adjusting her glasses, 'Here's what we need to do, Marcus. You've told us you pulled the chip out. But because you didn't know it was there to begin with... we want to make sure there are no other similar components left behind. Components that are capable of transmitting or receiving signals. Make sense?'

Marcus nodded stiffly.

'The scans are not conclusive because these components could be something we've never seen before. So we're going to have to physically take a peek inside your head.' She looked at Kate expectantly now. Kate spoke quickly, 'Think of it as minor surgery,' she told him, 'We're going to start by making an incision at the site to give Allison and her team access, okay?'

This should be fun. 'Let's get on with it,' he responded tersely.


A young girl with a steel razor shaved the area at the base of his skull where the chip had been. The dulled blade scraping through his close-cropped hair set his teeth on edge. Marcus could feel her staring at him intently the entire time as she worked, and resisted the urge to return her gaze with a look that he knew full well was capable of intimidating grown men in a prison yard. He was so tired of all of them staring.

A man with a syringe approached, 'It's just a local,' he said quickly, almost nervously, when he saw Marcus looking at it, and Marcus nodded curtly. He felt the cold tingle of antiseptic and the thin sting of the needle, and figured he should be grateful that they weren't cutting into him without anesthetic.

They had him lie on his side on the table. As the medical team began attaching sensors and monitors, and placing restraints to keep his head still, Marcus found himself wishing that he didn't have to be conscious through this procedure, that he didn't have to deal with the strangeness of them poking around inside his head. He looked around for Kate, but couldn't see her. In his line of sight three or four people were grouped around at the foot of the table, talking quietly among themselves, peering at him curiously from time to time.

Suddenly the woman named Allison appeared at his side. 'We're ready to start,' she told him. She hesitated for a few seconds before adding, 'You should know we're one of the few technical teams around that really know our way around Skynet's systems. So, you don't have to worry... we won't, you know, mess anything up in there.' She flashed him an awkward grin, and Marcus wasn't sure whether to be grateful for the hesitant reassurance, or annoyed at being referred to as a Skynet system.

'Okay,' he responded. 'Thanks,' he forced himself to add. Allison looked over his head at someone behind him, and nodded. A few seconds later he felt the sharp point of a scalpel press firmly into his numbed skin before slicing slowly, determinedly, across in a straight line. He felt blood trickle from the incision, was aware of someone swabbing at it, and forced himself to exhale. He'd been holding his breath.


He felt light, fluttering motions as they poked around at the opening they'd made into his head with small, delicate instruments that reminded him of the dentists' tools. This felt strange but not particularly uncomfortable, and he began to relax, allowing his mind to drift.

And so, he was completely unprepared for what came next, violently and without warning; the sensation was brutal, like a blunt iron poker being driven deep into his brain, and Marcus gasped loudly. Instantly there was an unbearable, almost painful pressure inside his head that made every nerve in his body scream out in protest, making his eyes water, and his heart pound frantically. Shit, shit, fuck – He felt a wave of panic rising inside him and although he'd immediately clamped his mouth shut, he became aware of a soft whimpering noise that had to be coming from him –

'Marcus!' Over the tense voices erupting around him he heard Kate call out, felt her hand grasp his forearm tightly. Then she appeared in his line of sight, bending over him. 'Marcus, it's okay,' she was saying, patting his arm. 'Try to relax. It's okay.'

Not daring to open his mouth, Marcus stared helplessly at her, his eyes wide with distress. He blinked frantically as tears poured down one side of his face, wishing he could ask her what part of this exactly, in her book, was okay.

'It's a probe,' she was saying, 'That's what you just felt them insert. Whatever you feel, don't fight it. Try to relax.'

Marcus caught snippets of the discussion around them '...shouldn't feel anything at all,' a man's voice was saying in obvious surprise.

'He's feeling all of it,' another voice responded sharply, urgently, 'Incredible - look at those readouts...'

Attempting to tune them out, he tried to follow Kate's advice and consciously relax, all the while fighting the instinctive urge to reach up and yank out that thing they'd shoved into his brain. He realized he was clinging to Kate's coat, and unclenched his fingers from the fabric. 'Are you in pain?' she was now asking him quietly, and he was able to choke out a shaky reply. 'Not exactly.' She nodded, seeming to understand. 'Just breathe. Focus on breathing normally,' she advised him in the same undertone, squeezing his hand firmly.

Marcus silently thanked her; Kate's presence at his side was tremendously reassuring. However, Barnes had now come to stand beside her as well, and his presence was anything but. In his current state of complete vulnerability, Barnes' considerable bulk looming over him made him feel even more agitated. He tried not to think about it. Keep fucking breathing, he reminded himself. Marcus was in no state to take notice of this, but as Barnes watched Marcus' obvious struggle to maintain his composure, a puzzled, unsettled expression crept over his face.

Meanwhile the tech team was buzzing. There was a low whistle. 'This is insane,' a man was muttering nearby . A woman was speaking then, rapidly, excitement in her voice, 'This is like nothing I've ever seen. There may not be pain exactly, but the sensations he's feeling are obviously pretty disturbing,' Allison, Marcus thought. 'The amount of activity we're picking up shows sensory capabilities in the artificial cortex way beyond what we were expecting... unbelievable.' As a few of the other tech-heads chimed in with their observations, Marcus closed his eyes in frustration. He really didn't give a shit how fascinating this was to them. Just hurry the hell up, he implored them silently.


He wasn't sure how much time had actually passed, but it felt like hours. Everyone present in the room had ended up huddled behind him, watching the procedure, or the images on the monitors showing the insides of his head. It was taking all his energy to keep calm, to keep fighting back the discomfort, and he tried hard to tune out the voices so he wouldn't have to hear them discussing the contents of his head as though he wasn't lying right there, fully conscious.

It was wearing him out, and his left side was beginning to go numb, but Marcus had just reminded himself for the hundredth time to be grateful that, despite the terrible discomfort, at least it didn't hurt per se, when he felt it – a twinge, a shooting pain deep in his head that lasted a fraction of a second. It made him jump, and his vitals must have spiked on the monitors because Kate spoke up immediately. 'What was that?' Then, in a lower voice, closer to his ear. 'Marcus?'

Marcus waited, but felt nothing. 'I'm fine,' he told Kate. A few moments passed and everything seemed to be okay; the procedure continued.

And then it hit him.

A fierce, white-hot bolt of pain ripped through the inside of Marcus' head, jerking a cry of pain out of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, clapping his hand to the back of his head, clawing helplessly at the tools inserted into his head. Exclamations of alarm broke out all around him; through the blinding pain he felt somebody grab his wrist in a viselike grip and force his hand away from his head. When he was able to open his eyes, Marcus registered dimly that his hand had come away covered in blood and that several people were backing away from the table. He heard Kate's voice cut clearly through the noise, 'What the hell's going on?'

His first horrified thought was that they had been right, and that his nightmares had come true; Skynet was back in his head. The pain was similar to what he'd felt when he'd synched into Skynet's central network, only magnified many times over. Panic and blind fear gripped him – what the hell was going on, how could this be happening, was this was why Skynet had let him live? – But, gasping and almost sobbing as he was, he fought it off. Wait, something inside him instructed, Keep it together.

As it receded a little he realized Kate was bending over him, and he wanted to tell her to back away, to keep her distance, but there was no fear on her face, only concern.

'...hear me? Marcus can you hear my voice?' he saw her mouth moving and became aware of her words.

'Kate,' he spluttered desperately, grabbing her arm in a painfully tight hold, 'What's going on? It hurts like crazy – it fucking hurts...' Over the chaos he heard Allison speaking rapidly, a panicked edge in her voice, but he didn't hear her words.

Her voice, and all sound, was drowned out by another tidal wave of pain, this time larger, more crippling than before. It flooded through his entire body like electricity, and he didn't know if he screamed out loud, but he was screaming in his head. He was vaguely aware of hands holding him down, people exchanging frantic words over his head, but every time it began to recede and he tried to focus on his surroundings, a fresh wave slammed into him again, rendering him incoherent, incapable of thought or action. He wanted to beg, to plead for somebody, anybody, to make it stop. But he held on, biting down on it, sweating profusely with the effort, shaking like a junkie in serious withdrawal. Barely conscious of what was going on around him, he couldn't see the pale, concerned faces of Kate, Allison, and the others, as they tried to figure out what had happened, how they could fix it.