"Are you ready maybe?
Do you long to confess?
Do you feel that you're already numb?
Are you sure of yourself?
Would you lie if you're not?"

Lyrics from "Put Your Arms Around Me" by Texas

"You can bend the rules, huh?" I question my new possible ally. Seeing a terminator with a plug at the back of his head is quite a change of pace. "Looks to me like you're a freak on a leash."

He tilts his head to the side. It seems to be a universal terminator move. "Freak on a leash? From your tone I gather you wish to insult me however I do not understand."

His slow manner of speak and oddly innocent expression has me feeling slightly guilty for my sarcasm. "The cord. What's with the cord, John Henry?"

"Ms. Weaver has yet to procure a salvageable chip for me. In the future your son is able to reprogram terminators to aid his Resistance. Skynet's defensive maneuver is to coat chips with phosphorous. If the chip is exposed to oxygen it combusts. At the present time there is no suitable portable means to contain my advanced brain. I am forced to wait for technology to catch up."

I wonder if he knows Cameron's chip is removable. I know Weaver is aware. Was Weaver feeding me a bullshit story about her damages? Something must be telling on my face or John Henry is such a brainiac he can read minds.

His expression softens. "Cameron improves daily. It may even be beneficial you regained consciousness today. It is possible Cameron can be brought back online today as well. She is close. I have monitored her repairs and recovery as I have kept close track of yours. I convinced Ms. Weaver to have your bed moved here to my quarters so that I could provide twenty-four hour protection and constant physical therapy. When you attempt to move later you should notice only a slight decrease in your muscle and joint functions."

"Where is she? I need to see her."

"Are you certain, Ms. Connor? She is not fully restored. Her recovery has been much more complicated than yours. She was stripped to her endo."

Bile crept it's way up and into my throat. I choked it back thinking of the first terminator I'd encountered. It's endo, a freakish metal upgrade or abomination of the human skeleton, frightened me so much I thought I'd lose my mind. The machine kept coming and coming like a mutant energizer bunny crossed with the hulk and fed steroids for every meal. Bullets, bombs, fire, car wrecks, not a damn thing seemed to stop it.

An alarm sounds from one of the machines I'm hooked up to. I'm breathing too fast. My mouth is dry. My heartbeat speeds up and I can hear it pounding in my head. My chest feels tight as though a leaden vest had been draped across it. The thought of Cameron as I knew her over the past few months reduced to her basest raw form is too much.

"You are hyperventilating, Ms. Connor. You must decrease your breathing rate. One breath every five seconds should suffice."

Easier said than done.

Dr. Megan McLeod enters the room and switches the alarm off. Her amethyst eyes wide. "Step away from her, John Henry. She's having a panic attack."

"I am fully aware." John Henry states as he takes a step backward. "Do you require my assistance?"

"How long has she been awake? Did you do anything to her?"

"Ms. Connor regained consciousness 21 minutes and 23 seconds ago. I was massaging her jaw at the time. She then stabbed my eye with her IV needle and-"

"She what?" she sucks in a breath as she looks at the blood on my arm and the already stained gauze. Her eyes lock onto mine. "It's ok, Sarah." Her voice is soothing. She sounds much different from the last time I'd seen her when she'd tried to shoot me. She brushes my hair out of my eyes and tells me to focus on her. "We need to get you calm. Purse your lips. Breathe slowly. You were sedated quite a while. I'd rather not give you anymore drugs."

I shake my head and will my breathing to slow. My heart rate gradually returns to normal. My vision clears and I am able to see the writing on her shirt. I almost wish for the blurriness to return.

"I'm Magically Delicious!" in big, bold, blue letters on a tight pink shirt.

I groan and look back at her smiling face. "I see you're still expressing yourself."

"It's casual Friday."

"Of course it is."

The cell phone in her pocket chirps. "Ms. Weaver wants you."

That sounds so appallingly wrong. I cringe.

She laughs nervously when the phone chirps three more times in rapid succession. "Oh, ok, it makes more sense now. Sometimes my texts are received in a random order. You'd think a company that specializes in cutting edge tech would have excellent cell phone reception. But no. Same issues here as out in the real world. We have 90 minutes or less to get you back on your feet and presentable. She wants you in Eden."

"Eden, as in the Garden of Eden?"

"Very good, Ms. Connor." John Henry pipes up. "I am pleased you know the Bible. The book is a conundrum to me. It seems to be a fantasy but many revere it. Ms. Weaver often references it. The level we are on now is called Babylon. Cameron is being restored in Eden."

A monitor behind him flicks on. What's left of Cameron's head fills the giant screen. More than half of her face is missing. Her bloody endo skull visible. "This is how Cameron appeared when she was first brought there." The camera pans down and shows most of her Coltan frame. Only one boot remains and a few bits of charred skin. "Ms. Weaver's team removed the remainder of her skin." An image of a gleaming highly polished endoskeleton fills up the screen next. It is much more compact and intricate than the lumbering T-888 sent after me in 1984. "Ms. Weaver procured the blood. Mr. Murch, Dr. Kim, and Dr. McLeod all assisted in treating the blood and producing the organic matter required for Cameron to reform her skin."

Weaver stands beside an industrial sized tub filled with what looks to be thick, dark blood. She sports a pair of purple latex gloves. A Dr.'s mask covers her nose and mouth. I watch in horrified amazement as a fleshy, bloody, veiny mass rises from the vat. The eyelids appear sealed. It has a squished in, misshapen nose. A cord like John Henry's extends from the back of its head.

My monitors are beeping faster as my pulse quickens. I hear myself gasping and am powerless to stop it.

"Stop it, John Henry." Megan orders from beside me.

The image freezes as Weaver steps forward with a scalpel in her gloved hand.

"No. I have to see this. I have to know."

Megan moves quickly, producing a syringe and pressing the needle into my upper arm. "Just to take the edge off."

"Bitch." I grumble as a warmth floods through me. I'm still awake but my head is suddenly fogged and I feel strangely at ease despite what's happening to me and what I'm seeing.

She checks my pulse then shines a light in my eyes before she nods to John Henry. "Ok, I think she's ready to see the rest."

Weaver's image resumes walking toward the being in the tub. She turns the head toward her and makes slits where the eyes should be. Two glowing, red orbs shine brightly. A moment later they flick to blue. I've only ever seen one terminator with the ability to change its eyes from red rage to peaceful blue.

My stomach lurches. There's nothing in it. I dry heave.

"She is doing much better now, Ms. Connor. The entire team has helped speed up the process of her healing. I've seen pictures of the damage my head and body received after you and your family ambushed my former self. As you can see, I am as good as new. Even better, for your sake. It is no longer my mission to terminate you and John." He smiles mechanically.

The smile is usually the hardest thing for any of them to master. Even Weaver still has trouble with it. Not Cameron. For as long as I've known her she's always had a smile to melt hearts and bring men and apparently women to their knees. That is, until she was reduced to the thing in the tub.

"So, what is your mission this time around?" I ask.

He tilts his head. He seems to be genuinely puzzled. It takes a few seconds for him to reply. "I am not certain I have one. Ms. Weaver wishes me to learn. She has brought in teachers. I do a great deal of research on my own." He frowns suddenly. "However I do not know my exact purpose."

Lovely, I think to myself as Megan continues to remove all of the whatnots I'm attached to. There's some pain but whatever she gave me makes me not quite able to give a fuck. She puts a robe on me and helps me out of the bed.

The shower is good. The heat soothes my body and clears some of the dullness from my head. I wrap a plush towel around myself and step out to find Megan is not alone. Dr. Kim is sitting on the edge of the vanity. Long, tan legs dangling. Black shiny boots to her knees and a matching short, tight skirt. At first glance it looks like a retro Mountain Dew shirt but the lettering has been changed to "Mount and Do Me."

"Mmmm," she practically purrs. "Looks like you're damn near as indestructible as your sexy lover. And just about as hot."

I roll my eyes at her. "Shower's open if you need a cold one."

Megan covers her mouth and lets out a noise that sounds a little more like a chuckle than a cough.

Kim just keeps smiling and looking me up and down. She knows it pisses me off. "Play nice, Sarah. I brought you something to wear." she says as she passes me a small stack of clothes.

Oh dear God. I can only imagine. Thoughts of the cherry stem trick flicker in my head. She and Megan are slightly off balance but they'd helped Cameron and I guess even me so I suppose I have no true justification to haul off and smack the Cheshire cat grin from her face.

"Is it possible I could have some privacy while I dress?"

She hops off the counter and hooks her arm around Megan's waist. "Five minutes." She holds up her finger and wags it like I've seen Weaver do before. "It's best not to keep the redhead waiting." she does a surprisingly good imitation of Weaver's brogue.

Megan laughs and the shock of it all is I do too. I didn't expect I'd laugh so soon after what I'd recently learned but somehow I do. Guilt hits me like a boot upside the head. How could I laugh after what had been done to Cameron?

I sheepishly glanced at the mirror once they are gone. My skin is ghostly pale. My dark hair a sharp contrast. My eyes seem a darker shade of green. Probably a result of no sun and a crapload of drugs. I had inspected my body during the shower. All the old scars were present and accounted for. Interestingly enough I couldn't find any new ones. I lean toward the mirror to get a better look at my forehead. I remember Jesse dragging a knife across my skin.

A thin scar just above the corner of my left eyebrow goes across and stops between my eyes. I remember distinctly how she made an incision that should have reached to the other corner. Then I have a flash of her firing a gun. I remember an impact with the right side of my head. Pain and blackness followed. I pull my hair back and look closer. There's no further scarring. What the fuck?

A loud knock startles me. "One more minute, Sarah."

"I'll be out when I'm out. Shut up." I snap at her as I open a sealed package containing a pair of black satin and lace underwear and a matching bra. I check the sizes, wondering how someone or God help me some machine had guessed so accurately. Then I try not to think anymore as I hastily dress in jeans and boots. The form fitting shirt is too much. It was surely picked by Kim. "You couldn't handle me if I came with instructions." At least it's black.

Weaver bares her teeth as I enter sterile looking office filled with lots of polished chrome and glass. There is a combination lock door complete with a spinning safe handle behind her. Her steely gaze settles on Megan and Kim. "You may go."

"But if you're about to wake Sleeping Beauty I want to be here." Kim whines.

"You have an affinity for Sleeping Beauty, do you?" Weaver's eyebrow arches at the end of her question. "I could see to it that you go to sleep and never wake up."

Kim is so ballsy she looks like she wants to protest but Megan grabs her arm and pulls her from the room. The door whooshes closed and I'm alone with Weaver. She stands and smoothes the front of her white dress. Her lips curve in a smirk. "Say, that's a nice shirt."

This coming from a woman wearing a Wilma Flintstone dress. Her hair is even back in a bun. Pearls grace her neck. I ignore her comment and take a calming breath. "So, I'm guessing Kim was referring to Cameron when she mentioned Sleeping Beauty. Where is she?"

"We shall go see her soon. First, we have a matter to discuss." She indicates the chair in front of her. "Please be seated."

My initial instinct is to demand to see Cameron immediately, but I'm dealing with Weaver. I know the day will be long and fraught with battles. I decide to save my strength for the bigger ones. I take a seat.

She sits in her high-backed silver chair. Her right hand folded across her chest and her left in the air near her face, fingers curved. "I understand you had some..." Her fingers rub together as she selects the right word. "difficulty dealing with Cameron's recuperation. By all accounts you appeared troubled, to say the least."

I nodded. There was no point in arguing. "It was a shock."

"Yes. I would imagine so. What I can't imagine is how you feel about her today as opposed to three weeks ago before Jesse's assault on the two of you."

"I don't care what you can't imagine. If you have a point, get to it."

"I wish to know your feelings for Cameron? What does she mean to you? Do you love her, like her, tolerate her, hate her?"

"Move on, Weaver. It's none of your business."

Her head shakes back and forth. "I'm afraid it is."

"This is bullshit. I'm not discussing this with you. Take me to her."

"Answer my questions, first."

"What difference does it make?"

Her smoke lined eyes narrow. Her mouth pursed. "Are you familiar with the term, quid pro quo?"

I sigh and do a mental count to five. "Yeah, you want to trade information."

"Very good." she nods once. "The EMP Jesse used on Cameron did major damage to her CPU. Her data has been erased."

This day just keeps getting unbelievably worse. I think about the plug I saw coming from her the back of her head. "Did she..." my voice cracks. I swallow and try again. "Did she revert back to her Skynet directives?"

"No. Everything has been completely expunged."

My eyes water. Panic tries to take over. I let my anger squash it. "Why the fuck did you ask me how I feel about her? If her memory is wiped and she's stuck on a tether like your pet she's as good as dead. It doesn't fucking matter how I feel."

"Good or bad your feelings are certainly passionate. I appreciate passion. Without it the machines will surely win." She stands and places her fingers on the glass desktop. She bends forward at an angle impossible for a human to duplicate. "However passion needs to be tempered with patience and a guarded tongue. You would do well to remember with whom you speak. John Henry is not my pet. He is my son."

"Sure, fine, whatever."

She steps forward, right through the desk. Her body seeming to split then oozing back together. She's solid again and her hands on the arms of my chair. Her face invading my personal space. "I can bring her back, Sarah. I have the ability. Tell me what you feel for her."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. No one needs to know but us. Do you regret the most recent turn in your relationship with her? Do you wish you'd never gone on the mission to find Megan and Kim?"

I'm trapped in the chair. Breathing in what she breathes out. My thoughts scattered and going through my brain at a mile a minute. Stolen kisses with Cameron, sex, arguments, and me hitting her with a gun. Her stepping on my stomach, pressing on an already open wound. Her coltan endo glistening on Weaver's table. The freakish blob of veins and muscles rising from the container of blood.

"I do not ask these questions merely to satisfy my own curiosity. Jesse's attack has presented you with a rare opportunity. Say the right words and I will grant your wish. Do you remember our time together on my private jet?"

"Of course I do. What about it?"

"While Cameron was deactivated, I had possession of her chip. I made a copy. At that point in time the two of you had not arrived in Daytona. You had not done anything more than share three kisses. You have been afforded the gift of being able to rewrite your history with Cameron. If you choose I can restore her memory there. Cameron need never know how or if your relationship progressed."

My head was pounding. My stomach flipped and flopped. I needed more air. I kept my eyes focused on her cold stare. The blemish above her eye once again caught my attention. "Cameron did that to you, didn't she?"

Weaver released the arms of my chair and slowly stood to her full height. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes flitting as she briefly calculated something. "Aye. She did."

"If this whole thing hadn't happened the way it did would you ever have told me you had copies of Cameron's data?"

"No. I would not."

I nodded, satisfied she was at least telling me the truth on that issue. "What's my other option for a restore point?"

"I made another copy on the morning after you consummated your liaison with Cameron. The day of her upgrade. Before you give your answer you need to consider all your feelings toward her. The way you felt before you saw her from the inside out. And the way you seemed revolted afterward. Did you and she make love? Was it just sex? What does the pretty terminator mean to you?"

"I don't know."

"Well, then, I suggest you take some time to figure that out." She passed me a cell phone. There's a map to your new quarters. I don't suppose you'll want to be roommates with John Henry any longer. You are free to roam the building, but you cannot leave. Call me when you've made a decision."

To be continued...

Thanks for reading :)

If any of you have any thoughts on where you'd like Cam's memory restored shoot me a pm or leave a comment. Also, if you had an "Easy" or "Reset" button, would you use it?

Thanks to CBLG and LCD for sticking with me and providing encouragement. Weaver would be so proud I'm showing some gratitude. LOL

Extra bonus thanks to LCD for the cool pics and whatnots :)

There's a storm coming, Cheeks. Batten down the hatches. Be careful. It could impact GA and/or FL or who knows. Just keep an eye on the news, please.

Happy almost birthday (8/26) to Shirley Manson (Weaver)