CHAPTER ELEVEN: REVELATIONS

The sky above the docks was grey and gloomy. The wind carried a sense of urgency, that familiar damp smell. There was a storm coming.

Future John put the truck to a stop next to a large warehouse. He nodded to his younger counterpart. It was time.

Cameron opened the trunk of the black Chevrolet Avalanche. There was everything they needed: Thermite grenades, shotguns loaded with thermite rounds, packs of enough C4 to blow up an entire block...

Present John fastened his bulletproof vest – not that it could stop a T-1000 from cutting through him like hot knife through butter, but he gladly took every form of protection he could. Plus, what if there were armed humans or other terminators working for the liquid machine? Anything that could increase his chance of survival.

The three of them marched to the warehouse door. Present John exchanged a look with Cameron. Her face wore a stoic expression, but her eyes betrayed her. At the very least, she was afraid for John's safety, he knew. She always was.

Thanks to a clever decoy by Future John, The T-1000 was supposed to be at the other end of the city. Still, one could never be sure with these liquid monstrosities. Did it see through their little rescue plan? Was it waiting for them somewhere to spring its attack on them like a coiled snake?

Seconds ticked by and felt like minutes as the trio found themselves just a few paces from the warehouse entrance. Suddenly, the warehouse door smacked open. Inside the metal doorframe stood the nightmare from countless sleepless nights both Johns had endured, its piercing eyes glowing menacingly.

The plan to distract the machine had not worked. It was waiting for them.

Cameron could not dream, and unlike both Johns, she also did not have a childhood where she had been chased by a horrendous killing machine from the future.

She did not hesitate for even a split second and started hosing the hostile terminator with the thermite rounds.

Present John slapped himself mentally. "Concentrate fire!" He yelled as the center of the T-1000's chest melted with a wrathful hiss.

Squeezing the triggers of their shotguns to spray their target with synchronized volleys of hellfire, the trio started backing away towards the truck to create more distance between themselves and the machine.

The T-1000 responded by protruding one of its arms into a silver spear and thrusted it in Present John's direction.

Seeing this coming, John ducked to his left, the liquid metal missing his head only by inches. Had he been just a fraction of a second late, he would be dead, gone, just like that. With the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Cameron snapping her head in his direction.

She never saw the second blade that struck her in the chest, sending her against the truck's door, shattered pieces of glass flying from behind her, some sticking in her hair.

"Cameron!" Both Johns shouted almost in perfect unison.

Pinned to the truck's door, Cameron tried to struggle herself out, but to no avail. Good news was, the T-1000 has narrowly missed her power source.

Both Johns kept firing salvos at the liquid machine, melting the lower part of its torso with the thermite rounds, making it sag upon itself.

Future John's shotgun clicked empty. "Now!" He shouted.

The younger John knew what that meant: They had the terminator where they needed it – on the ground and pretty much immobile.

With the shine of a thousand burning suns, two thermite grenades ignited themselves on top of the T-1000, reducing it into a puddle of hissing liquid and vapor.

As the monster's blood-chilling shrieks died down, drops of rain started pelting the concrete surface of the docks.

It was finally over. Once again, against all odds, both Johns could taste victory over the best Skynet could had thrown at them. They had defeated the reincarnated horror... It was over...

Just when Present John wanted to swirl towards Cameron to check whether she was okay, he bumped into something hard.

Piercing blue eyes stared at him.

What?!

The T-1000 stood right there before him.

No... No... He shook his head in disbelief.

The machine's arms gripped his shoulders like a pair of vices.

I just killed you... John watched hopelessly as the terminator's merciless stare burnt him like a pair of red-hot branding irons.

Violently, the T-1000 started shaking him. John felt like his very soul was leaving his body.

"John!" He could hear a muffled voice.

The liquid monstrosity kept on shaking John, its face hard as a rock.

"John!" There was that voice again...

He fluttered his eyes open. He could still feel someone's hands on his shoulders. It was dark. He was gasping for air.

Those eyes. He knew them, those beautiful eyes...

Cameron?

Warmth filled him from inside...

"You had a nightmare," her soft, caring voice suddenly made him feel safe, loved.

She sat on the edge of the bed, watching over him like a guardian angel, her angelic features outlined by the moonlight shining through the window behind her.

As she released his shoulders and folded her hands in her lap, watching him worriedly, he started remembering the events of the night before he went to sleep...


[Flashback]

It finally happened. This time, it wasn't a dream, John knew. In his arms, he was holding the girl he had always secretly wanted, brushing his nose against hers. Her skin was warm and silky soft, her hair smelled sweetly of that coconut shampoo she liked to use.

He knew he had always wanted to do this. It always had been buried down deep. He felt like he could never be happier, and more importantly, like he should have done this much sooner.

Under the starry sky, in the chilly desert air, they stood holding each other, their eyes closed. Just the two of them standing against the world, together.

John landed another short kiss on Cameron's moist lips. Cradling her in his embrace, he felt like he could do this forever.

She opened her lovely doe eyes and touched her own lips, studying her fingers. "I've never kissed before," she said musingly.

"And? Do you like it?" John asked her, gazing deeply into her hazy eyes.

"Yes," she returned his gaze. "I do," the corners of her mouth curled upwards and she leaned to gift John with another sweet kiss.

Once again, John thought about how actions spoke louder than words. It was beyond all doubt: she loved him and he loved her. He always had.

He noticed the goosebumps on Cameron's forearms. Amazing. She really was different. She was unique, special. "You're cold?"

"A little," Cameron nodded. "But it's not just that," she added with a smile and a sparkle of thankfulness in her eyes.

John smiled back. He broke the hug and slipped out of his leather jacket. "Here," stepping to her side he offered her the jacket.

Although they both knew she didn't really need to stay warm, Cameron appreciated the gesture, knowing now just how much John cared about her. She understood. "Thank you."

He placed the jacket over her slender shoulders.

Hand in hand, they walked back to the house, both happy and in love.

[End of Flashback]


John smiled to himself. The nightmare was subsiding and on his bed sat the most gorgeous girl he had ever laid his eyes upon.

She wore black yoga pants, that made her long legs look even more perfect, and a white T-shirt way too big for her.

Wait, is that my shirt?

He dark hair fell around her cute face.

John's mouth was parched and he licked his lips.

"I brought you water," Cameron picked up the glass of water she had put on the night stand and offered it to John.

Gratefully accepting, John gulped the water like he hadn't drank for days. Few drops of water spilled down his chin, dropping on his bare chest. "Thanks," he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. How did Cameron always know what he needed?

"You're welcome," Cameron put the empty glass back on the nightstand.

"What time is it?" John asked, running his fingers through his hair.

"Three fifty-four," she answered and swiped her finger across John's chest to dry the spilled water.

Her soft touch almost turned his blood to smoke. Why did she do that? He needed a distraction. Fast. "Is that my shirt?" He smirked.

"Yes," she deadpanned.

Her curves looked stunning even in that oversized white T-shirt. John knew he didn't want to rush anything – which would prove very difficult in the coming days, he knew. Just... take it slow...

Their relationship was special to him and he intended to enjoy every second of its unexpected development. Frozen in the moment, he regarded Cameron slowly. "Don't you have enough of your own shirts?" He asked jokingly, expecting her to say something about how she needed to wash them all at once to save water and be generally more effective.

"I do, but this one smells like you," she explained simply.

John's heart made a funny little twist in his chest.

"Should I take it off?" She interrupted his enamored musings, suddenly looking all insecure.

"No," John shot back instantly. Please, God, no! He screamed inside, knowing he could not contain himself at the sight of her naked body. "You can keep it, I don't mind," he added honestly.

She smiled back heartwarmingly.

Placing his hand upon hers he beckoned her. "Come here," he shifted on the bed to make space for her.

Happy for how John stopped shunning her physical presence, Cameron laid next to him, folding her hands on her belly, gazing at the ceiling.

John mimicked her, laced his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes, savoring the pleasant moment they were sharing together.

Silence took hold of the pair inside the small, old-time-furnished room. It wasn't the awkward silence people experience on their first dates, this one was comfortable, relaxed.

"What's it like to have a nightmare?" Cameron asked hazily, her eyes still fixed at the ceiling.

John opened his eyes to give her a short glance and took a moment to come up with an answer. "It's like living through something really bad… it looks and feels real, but you can't really do anything… it's like living through a car accident over and over while being the passenger with your hands and feet strapped to the seat." He took a deep breath in. "And sometimes… the nightmares just keep coming back. You know what's gonna happen, but you're stuck watching it helplessly."

"I see," Cameron's gaze fell off the ceiling. John's decription was perfect and she imagined how bad he must had been feeling. She braced herself up on one elbow to see into John's face properly. "What was in your nightmare?"

John's eyes met hers before he glued them back to the ceiling. Patiently, he narrated the events of his dream, how they fought the liquid metal, how it harmed Cameron and how it appeared before him after they killed it.

After he finished, Cameron, still propped up on one elbow, remained quiet, evidently thinking hard about something.

John swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and refused to go away. "I've met this machine before," he revealed.

This caught Cameron's attention. "You did?"

"Skynet sent it to kill me when I was 10," he remembered the horrible events of 1995.

He told Cameron about how he, his mother and 'Uncle Bob' were chased around LA by a liquid terminator that could shapeshift into anything it touched. He told her about how they ended up in a steel mill where they managed to make it fall into a vat of molten metal.

Wordlessly listening, Cameron could see how terrified John must had been at the time.

She sat up. "The temperature of molten steel is approximately fifteen hundred degrees Celsius, which is enough to disintegrate any terminator, including a T-1000," she pointed out to John. "You killed it," she tried to reassure him.

"Which means that the one from yesterday is different," he concluded. "…but why does it look exactly the same?"

"I don't know," she looked John in the eyes. "My database includes only limited information on liquid metal terminators, as Skynet didn't want the Resistance to be able to reverse-engineer the technology."

"I see," John ruminated.

"You should get more sleep. You only slept for 4 hours and 20 minutes," she informed him.

John smiled at that. "I'm not sure I can fall asleep right now," he sighed.

"Oh," Cameron realized her mistake. She had stirred his brain into thinking about all the trouble they had been through so far, about all the trouble they would have to deal with. Humans cannot fall asleep when their brains get too busy. She should have been more considerate and not ask John about his nightmares, her curiosity taking over, she realized.

Unexpectedly to John, she slipped under the blanket and rested her head on his chest, placing her small hand on his torso. "Will this help?" She asked him, hopping to calm him down. However, she wasn't doing it just for John. She was doing it for herself too. She felt like hugging him, feeling his skin on hers, and it felt absolutely beautiful. She had never been happier, knowing that John loved her as much as he loved him.

Her plan worked. John's worries started washing away as he instead focused on the pleasant warmth that radiated from Cameron's body.

Suddenly, she felt the need to embrace him as much as she could and wrapped her slender arm around his chest and stretched one leg across his thighs, devouring him completely.

Speechless, John enveloped her in his arms. This was his definition of perfection.

Cameron moved her leg slightly, partially rubbing against John's underwear and its contents, making him shift and clear his throat, hormones surging through him.

"You respond to this body," she observed, noticing his elevating blood pressure.

"This body," John chuckled despite the flaming desire burning inside him. "I respond to you, silly," he rubbed her shoulder. It wasn't just her body he 'responded' to. It was her as a whole, her soft voice, her cute mannerisms...

"I respond to you too," she said innocently with her head still on his chest.

"I know, I know," John closed his eyes, kissed the top of her head and smoothed her hair.

I have sensation. I feel.

He could feel her cheeks tense up against his chest. She was smiling.

He had never felt anything so comforting. She did have that effect on him. After several moments of silence, all his fears faded into sweet nothingness as he drifted back to sleep, this time with Cameron at his side and without any horrors haunting his dreams.


The next morning, John woke up to a familiar smell as the sunlight pierced his eyelids. He braced himself up on his elbows and blinked around the room.

Disappointed, he didn't find Cameron there with him. Like a typical teenager in love, he had wished to wake up to the sight of her cute face, her chocolate eyes. But he didn't blame her, what was she supposed to do? Stare at the ceiling all night and morning, waiting for him to wake up? He was sure even she could get bored of that.

I don't sleep, she had said numerous times, making John wonder what she was doing tonight.

At least he knew what she had been up to this morning: Cooking breakfast for him. Sweet. Did he smell pancakes?

Dizzily, he stumbled into the small kitchen, where Cameron stood at the stove, just placing the finished pancakes on a plate.

His eyes measured her alluring figure. She still wore the black yoga pants and his white T-shirt, looking sexy, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. That was new.

Old habits die hard, and John wanted to curse himself again for being attracted to her. But not anymore. Together, they had surpassed that taboo. He relished the ability to look at her without being ashamed of doing so.

He wanted to hug her from behind, press himself against her perfect backside, and do so much more with her, but he managed to resist the urge. After all, they had only shared their beautiful first kiss just yesterday.

"Good morning," she greeted him from behind her shoulder.

"Hey," John grinned and pulled up a chair for himself, sitting down at the small table.

Finally, Cameron swung around, her cute face completely exposed as her hair was now out of the way, tied into a ponytail, only her bangs covering her forehead.

"I made you pancakes," she put down the plate in front of him.

"Thanks, Cam," John's eyes hungrily swallowed the meal Cameron had prepared for him.

When he brought his gaze up again, he decided to stand up and place a kiss on her cheek. She deserved it. For everything.

As he was raising from the chair, Cameron eyed him curiously, completely oblivious to his intentions, only noticing the awkwardness and nervousness in his shaking hands.

Finally, he planted a peck on her soft cheek, awkwardly resting his hand on her shoulder. Mentally, he was punching himself for being so weird all of a sudden, like some nerd. You were kissing her yesterday, you idiot!

Their eyes met. The corners of Cameron's mouth tugged upwards into yet another of her cute half-smiles. "You're nervous," she commented on the tremble in his body, carefully studying his sparkling green irises.

John cleared his throat and straightened his posture. "No I'm not," he protested.

With her fingers, she touched his neck. "Yes you are," she mocked him.

Busted. John chuckled, gluing his eyes to the floor, bracing his hands against the backrest of the chair. Manning up, he ironed his back again and placed his hands on Cameron's hips, pulling her closer. "I guess I respond to this body," he teased back, taking great care not to show his surprise at how she let him squeeze her body against the length of his.

She laid her hands on his shoulders, gazing deeply into his eyes and giggling sweetly.

In the back of her mind, she calculated the heat loss of the pancakes she had cooked.

"Your breakfast is getting cold," she glanced at the plate on the table and then back into John's charming eyes.


After eating the pancakes (which were delicious, especially with the teaspoon of vanilla Cameron added), John padded into the bathroom for a shower.

As the water ran through his hair and down his face, he could not help but think about his nightmare again, the piercing blue eyes of the terminator haunting his mind for way longer than he liked.

Minutes later, he exited the steamy shower, wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped to the sink.

Observing himself in the mirror, he slapped his face lightly. Man up, soldier.

He cleared his throat, straightened his back, stuck out his chest and broadened his shoulders to gain a more manly posture.

In his mind, he veered to the moment from yesterday when he had pushed the T-1000 under Future John's truck. Thinking about that, his heart filled with pride for standing up against that monster, defending the girl he loved.

However, at the same time, anger started boiling his blood again as he thought about what the liquid metal could do to Cameron, what it was probably doing to his mother.

He clenched his fists and swallowed the lump in his throat. Use it. Use the anger to your advantage, he could hear Sarah.

The hate flowed through him as he made the decision to change.

He had already stopped acting like a brat (at least he thought), and he knew that in order to survive and be able to defend those he loved, he had to be strong not only mentally, but physically as well.

Quickly jogging to his room and slipping into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, he marched outside with a determined gait, glissading past puzzled Cameron.

"Where are you going?" She inquired in her typical, cute manner - with her head slightly tilted to one side.

John stopped in his tracks, turning on his heel, smirking mysteriously. "Wanna be my sparring partner?"


Meanwhile, Sarah Connor woke up, her head spinning, her throat as dry as a thousand-year-old bone.

How long had it been like this? Hours? Days? Weeks? She had no idea, the machine must had been drugging her. For what reason?

She wanted to concentrate, put a finger on its familiar face, but her thoughts were all mashed together into a hazy blur.

However, this time, something felt different. Something was different...

The first thing that struck Sarah was that the smell wasn't the same, gone was the moldy stench. The room was different, she realized, as she looked around herself.

It was dark, but something she could make out without really trying to: She was laid on a gurney, her hands and ankles strapped to it. Something sticky was dotting her forehead. She knew this feeling on her skin... electrodes?

She caught a glint of a tangle of cables running to the left of her. Computer screens were blinking and illuminating the dark room, drowning it in a dark blue tinge.

What the hell was the machine doing to her?

Was it studying her dreams? Or was this another one of those illusions she had when she was drugged by Winston, that enforcer of Kaliba?

Wait, there was another gurney, in front of the computers...

Lying there was a body of a woman. She wasn't moving, her dark hair sprawled across the gurney.

There was something next to her head, a little object with shiny circular base and a plasticky-looking rectangular protruding from it. Sarah had seen it before. She squinted her eyes...

A chip! It was a terminator chip.

Sarah's eyes sprung towards the computer screens and then towards the cables that ran from her forehead. Her breath quickened with panic.

What the hell is going on here?!

She tried pulling the straps holding her wrists and ankles, unsuccessfully.

Desperately, furiously, she wanted to scream and scream she did...


It's always sunny in California, they say. But not today. Clouds gathered and remained gliding through the sky, dreadfully reminding John of the nightmare he had had tonight.

The wind blew with a damp aroma. There was a storm coming.

After the exhausting training session with Cameron, where she made John do an uncountable number of sets of chin-ups, burpees, sit-ups, lunges, and squats, and hours (not literally) of heart-bursting sprints (Cameron turned out to be a pretty harsh coach, which almost made John regret his decision to bring her along), and after he had another refreshing shower, they finally got a call from Future John.

They met him in an underground parking lot where they got into the black Chevrolet Avalanche he had stolen yesterday, John sitting in the front passenger seat, Cameron in the back.

"Where are we going?" Cameron asked, intent on unveiling Future John's plan.

"I need to show you something," he put the truck in motion and handed his younger self a laptop that had been sitting on his lap.

Taking the laptop and opening it, a picture of an unknown cop flickered at Present John. The man on the screen was probably in his mid-thirties, having a clean-shaven face, close-cropped blonde hair and a smile revealing a perfect row of white teeth.


LAPD Officer Profile

Name: Blake Tanner

Date of Birth: October 4th, 1974

Badge Number: 8322

Residence: 716 Burlington Ave, Los Angeles

Status: M.I.A. since April 27th, 2009


"Who is this?" John asked dumbfoundedly as the Chevrolet roved out of the parking lot into the streets of LA. He still wasn't used to seeing his older self and could not help but stare at him.

"The machine stole this guy's identity and could as well be operating from his apartment," the older John answered.

Operating from his apartment, Present John mulled over these words. A sparkle of hope ignited inside ribcage. Could this be where the machine is holding Sarah?

"How do you know this?" The younger Connor was skeptical, frowning slightly, still studying the man behind the driving wheel.

"I memorized the badge number on the liquid metal's uniform, it could a dead end, but it's pretty much the only thing we've got," Future John explained. "We're going to Westlake," he said as he took a left on the intersection.

"Making a direct approach is extremely dangerous," Cameron protested from the backseat. "Neither of us is capable of dispatching a T-1000."

Present John closed the laptop defiantly to back her up. "Yeah, I'm not walking into another trap. I say we watch this guy's place from a respectable distance."

Future John smirked. "Relax, I'm not stupid, okay?" He stopped at red lights. "We are going to do the recon from a respectable distance." He reached his hand into the glovebox to pull out a printed webpage. "Which is why I've rented us a place nearby… Right in the next building, actually."

On the paper was a photo of a small complex of a trio of three-story houses. The apartment building in the middle had a sign on its front:

Burlington
Terrace

Obviously, when Future John had said that he "needed to take care of a few things", he wasn't lollygagging. Impressive.

However, the plan of observing the T-1000's supposed hideout from somewhere else, of course, was still risky. Present John knew this, but had to agree with his older self – it was their best shot.

There was one thing that pressed his mind about Future John, and since they had some time before arriving at Westlake, he was determined to find out more about him.

"You wanna ask me who sent me and why," Future John said before Present John could open his mouth, undoubtedly noticing how the younger Connor kept staring at him. "What's my mission? Why am I here?" He gestured with his hands over the steering wheel, knowing all too well how Young John's brain operated.

Stunned by this, Present John struggled to find words to respond with.

"Let me put it this way," Future John resumed his monologue, licking his dry lips. "What I've seen in the future..." He began as his eyes went distant. "...is something no human being should ever endure. It's not right. Words like 'apocalypse' and 'hell' come to my mind first when I try to remember what it was like."

Both Cameron and Present John remained quiet, both thrown into deep thinking upon hearing Future John's words, imagining the hell.

"In the future," he continued. "There is no fight. There's only death, grinning metal skulls lurking around every corner, waiting for any chance to blast you to pieces and move on," fury took control of his voice as he turned his face towards Present John. "Know this: I came here to fight, and I came to win. The war isn't in the future anymore. The war is now, in this time," he added as he tapped the steering wheel with his index finger to the rhythm of his words.

What he said made Present John fully realize how much he needed Weaver's help. Stopping Judgement Day was no longer as easy as just blowing up one building. The fight with Skynet got more complicated: There was Kaliba and who knows how many other companies on Earth working for it. There were Grays (as Derek had told him) working for those companies, or even on their own accord, perfectly blending into human society. There were terminators, infiltrators, assassins, completing all kinds of missions.

Having an AI to monitor everything that was happening would be a great asset and the best weapon against Skynet they could imagine. Weaver's request was simple: Find a chip for John Henry. Time was ticking, less than six months before she would return from her trip through time.

Present John tried being hopeful: He likened himself to being the David to Skynet's Goliath.

Without knowing it, he mirrored Cameron's thoughts from yesterday: He wanted to stay alive for her, to win the war for her. He would do anything...


When the black Chevrolet finally reached the apartment complex within the working-class neighborhood of Westlake, Los Angeles, Future John offered himself to go first, leaving Present John and Cameron sitting inside the truck, just in case.

"If I don't call you in 10 minutes, don't wait for me, just get the hell out of here," he instructed the younger of Connors and gave Cameron a long look before disappearing inside the rightmost apartment building shortly after.

Once inside, carefully, he climbed the steps to the third floor, taking great care to be prepared for the improbable possibility of being attacked by the T-1000. When he entered the artificially-lit corridor a concoction of memories flooded his mind...


[Sometime in the future...]

The sounds of his military boots striking the concrete floor echoed through the corridors as his legs burned from the effort of performing the fastest run he had ever forced himself to do, his mind a cascade of thoughts about the guilt of betrayal, running away. He reminded himself of his intentions. This is for you...

Dogs furiously barked in the halls behind his back, a series of heavy footsteps could be heard amidst the chaos.

Finally, his vision was entered by the door, the shiny gate leading to what his heart had been desiring all those years.

As his hand landed upon the door handle, he trained his pistol in front of his sweaty face. Get her back or die trying...

The door flew open and a gunshot pierced the air in the brightly illuminated room. A young sergeant's body dropped to the floor.

CRACK! CRACK! - Two instruments of death exited the barrel of his gun, meeting the skulls of the two guards reaching for their machine guns.

In a split of a second later, the last shot killed the old officer who was operating the console.

The smell of gunpowder entered John's nostrils, and he felt no remorse for the deaths he had just delivered. Fifteen years of living through burning hell do that to a man.

The sounds of his pursuers were getting dangerously close.

His eyes landed on a set of red digits:

09/27/2009

He repeated her name, the mantra that had kept him alive.

Time was of the essence, he knew. He could have travelled to a time where he could save all those he loved, but there was no room for a recalibration of the now-humming instrument that would at least allow him to save her. It was now or never.

With his fist curled up to a ball, he punched the red button.

As he stood inside the circle that was etched in the floor, he moved away the body of the now dead young man.

Sorry, pal, change of plans.

The blue sphere around him was gaining on intensity, sparks flying across the room.

"Shoot him!" Were the last words he heard before a flash brought him into darkness...


[Present]

There were no traps in the rented apartment, no terminators skulking in the shadows, and the Trinity of Present John, Cameron and Future John settled down.

The apartment included one bedroom and a living room/kitchen area. The window in the living room had a good view of Blake Tanner's apartment.

"There, that's his place," Future John pointed at the window on the second floor of the building in front of them.

Cameron zoomed-in her vision and carefully studied the interior behind the window. The opposite living room was messy, containers with rests of take-out food scattered around. There was no movement inside, no signs of life.

"There is no movement. The apartment looks empty. It's highly unlikely the T-1000 uses it as a base of operation," Cameron informed both Johns.

"We're grasping at straws here," Present John sighed in disappointment.

"Assuming the police had started looking for the missing officer, this would be the first place for them to search, which makes it very unsuitable for a hideout," Cameron elaborated further.

Defeated, Future John placed the laptop on the coffee table. "I'll surf the internet for any news that could lead us to Tanner," he informed the duo by the window and sat down on the couch.

Tanner. Naming your fears is the first step in defeating them, both Johns realized and decided to stick with calling the machine by the name of the unlucky man it killed and stole his identity.


"...in the evening, we're gonna see widespread rain with heavy downpour, and by 10:30 – very heavy. In fact, not only are we talking rain, but we could see downpours and thunderstorms, so looking at the map here, we can see that..."

Sitting on the couch alone, Present John tuned out the annoying voice of the blonde weather lady on the TV and instead refocused all his attention to Cameron who had been standing by the window to the left of the couch like a statue for two hours now.

Future John spoke from kitchen behind the couch, holding a bottle of beer and pointing with it at the TV. "If there's one thing I didn't miss in the future, it's these shitty forecasts," he grumbled as the rain had already started pouring down on the sprawling metropolis, darkening the interior of the small apartment.

Threads of water slid along the glass of the windows, sending creeping shadows at the opposite walls.

Present John angled his body on the couch to face the his older counterpart. "Judgement Day," he spilled out. "What was it like?"

"I don't know,"Future John replied mysteriously, putting on a more serious face and dropping his eyes to the floor.

In the corner of his eye he could see that with his answer, he caught Cameron's attention too, as she turned from the window towards him, studying him curiously.

"I jumped over it..." He put the beer bottle on the kitchen counter and lifted his head to meet the surprised stares of both Present John and Cameron.


[Flashback]

I'M SORRY JOHN

I'M SORRY JOHN

I'M SORRY JOHN

Those words kept repeating themselves on the screen, wrenching his heart. Her body was sprawled in the chair, half of her face missing, revealing the red orb and metal skull beneath, the other half looking sad and helpless.

What have I done?

"I'll stop it," his mother said to him in that cursed basement of ZeiraCorp.

Then – a blinding flash. And then cold. Dark. Dogs barking. Weaver standing next to him in those gloomy ruins.

"Where's Cameron? Where's her body?" He had asked her in a panicked voice.

"It doesn't go through," she had answered matter-of-factly and disappeared shortly after as the dogs got closer.

After almost being confused with metal and getting blasted to bloody pieces, he had met Derek – one who had had no idea who John Connor was, just like the others. Resistance fighters. No one knew him.

"Well. You know what? I think you're gonna be famous. My brother's back and you're wearing his coat."

He would never forget those words. Those words before he saw his father. Kyle Reese. The blue-eyed man who had given him life, the man who saved his mother, the man she had loved.

Cameron...

He found her. She was alive, waves of chestnut locks flowing around her cute face, her eyes so deep he felt like drowning in them.

Something was wrong. She didn't know him. Nobody knew him. He was alone...


[Present]

I think you're gonna be famous.

John Connor – the famous traitor who had shot six of his fellow Resistance fighters to get to the TDE and travel back to the past.

I'll stop it, he thought about the last words he had ever heard from his mother, justifying his actions.

"I'll stop it," he said aloud after he had told Present John and Cameron about how he dived headfirst into the whirlwinds of time, into the dark future, because he had her. He had her chip.

Present John stared at him with open mouth, absolutely shocked by his future self's revelation. Icy-cold shivers ran down his spine.

So this was what would have happened if he sent Cameron to rescue Sarah from the prison. He would have killed her. She would be damaged beyond repair and would have given her chip to John Henry, sacrificing herself.

He swallowed hard. If Tanner, the T-1000, didn't intervene, he would be hating himself for letting this happen to Cameron, chattering his teeth in the cold dark future.

But, this is what he would have done for her. He would leave everything behind and would go after her without any second thoughts in a desperate attempt to save her.

Now he knew that things could be far, far worse. In the back of his soul, he thanked Tanner for not letting him send Cameron into that prison, he was glad he had defended Cameron before Weaver, stopping her from taking her chip.

Still, the price was paid: Cameron, the love of his life, for his mother, the guiding beacon of his life.

When he finally managed to dig himself out of the rubble of his thoughts, he realized how quiet the room was.

He looked at Cameron who was obviously just as shocked as he was. I would do anything for you, he thought upon the look at her cute, lovable face.

He turned his head towards Future John who looked emotionally exhausted, staring at the floor.

Present John braced himself.

"We'll stop it."


Author's Notes: Hope you found the revelations of this chapter worth the wait!

What is Tanner doing to Sarah? What more is there to find about Future John? How will Present John and Cameron's relationship stand in the struggle against Skynet?

Things are sure to get interesting in the following installments!

As always, thank you for staying with me. Let me know what you think about the story's development so far, your reviews mean the world to me. :)

UPDATE 14th SEPTEMTER 2017: Thank you all SO much for your positive feedback and your interest in my work! Don't worry, I have not abandoned the story. THIS IS NOT THE END. There are a few more chapters left to wrap up the main plot (I've still got several aces in my sleeves to surprise you and keep you intrigued). I will continue as soon as I feel like writing more. :)