Title- Becoming John Connor
Chapter- 28/?
Author- Dekardkain
Date- 10/28/10
Rating- T
Category - Action/Character study JC/C
Archiving- Would be an honor, just ask.
Warnings- Violence/language
Disclaimers- I don't own this, no money, yadda yadda.
Summary: Facing one's fate is the measure of a man. Changing one's fate is the measure of a hero.


Connor Compound
Pueblo, Colorado
March 14th, 2011
0728hrs

Despite the cold seeping in from every corner of the antiquated, and frankly, dilapidated, farm house they had been using as a base of operations for the better part of a year, John found himself toasty warm when he started to drift back from a much needed couple hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Was he tired? Sure.

Was he sore? You'd better believe it.

But he was warm, content, and more relaxed than he could remember being in years. John could feel the smile stretch across his face even before he'd opened his eyes, using the arm still wrapped around his wife's slim waist to pull her tighter in to his side, "Mmmm... morning."

Cameron tilted her head to regard him for a moment before dropping a soft kiss on her husband's chest. Draping one leg over his, she snuggled closer in to his side and picked her head up off his chest to look at him with a smile. "Good morning John. Did you sleep well?"

"You tell me." Letting his eyes adjust to the early morning light with a smirk, John found himself leaning up to drop a slow, lingering kiss on Cameron's lips, "I was asleep."

Pulling back from the kiss with a smile, she laid her head back down comfortably on his chest, letting the now familiar rhythm of his heart wash over her. As she ghosted her fingertips along his flank, Cameron made note of how her wedding ring glimmered in the sunlight streaming in through the part in the curtains. The symbol of her love for John never ceased to please her every time she looked at it, taking a satisfaction in it she never would have thought possible from chunks of a precious mineral faceted within a metallic frame.

Her entire mental diversion amounting to roughly a tenth of a second in real time, Cameron was still able to answer John's question without a noticeable pause. "For the two hours you actually slept, you slept well."

Nodding slowly, still reluctant to make any sharp movements before he had an opportunity to gauge just how bad the kinks in his neck and shoulders really were, John cuddled in closer, running his hand gently along the smooth skin of Cameron's lower back, "What time is it?"

Double checking her chronometer, while trying to suppress a shiver from the contact, Cameron reached down and tugged the sheets a little higher, the cool morning temperature would start to reach John soon, and that just wouldn't do. It was well known that the human immune response was significantly hampered when exposed to temperature extremes, and frankly, in her opinion, her husband already spent far too much time traipsing around in the snow as it was. "It's seven thirty two."

"Still got a little time then." Smiling in appreciation, John flipped his weight suddenly, surprisingly limber for this early in the morning, and settling over top of Cameron while grinning down at her, "Last night was... perfect."

Smiling up at her husband, Cameron drew both her hands down his chest and over his stomach, tracing the outline of his muscles with her fingertips. She took immense delight in feeling them contract of their own accord under her touch. "I'm glad you appreciate it."

She leaned up for another kiss, a kiss that quickly turned passionate, one of her hands found itself on the back of his head, pulling him down to her nearly on instinct.

John found himself chuckling low in his throat while trying to catch his breath, pupils dilating to the point of nearly blocking out all the color in his eyes. Cameron had always enjoyed their time together, but the way she was reacting the night before was almost what he'd call 'human'. "Really... again?"

"Don't you want to?" Her question would've made him falter, if it weren't for the way her pout slowly formed in to a devilish grin, and her hands resumed their motion along his flanks.

"Of course I want to." He only shake his head, amusement clearly visible despite the shivers running through his body as Cameron continued her work, "Just not sure my body is going to cooperate."

"Perhaps a shower would help?" With that, Cameron managed to work her way out from underneath him, but not before dropping a kiss on his lips. She stood beside the bed and held her hand out to him, her expression and eyes showing a hunger he'd rarely ever seen before.

For all his vaunted intelligence, for all his supposed leadership ability, all John Connor could manage in the face of that kind of invitation was a goofy smile and a mumbled, "Shower... good."

Snagging Cameron's hand and letting her pull him up to a standing position, John didn't wait for the bathroom before pulling her back to him, ignoring the cold of the room while running his hands over every spare inch of flesh he could find.

Using her not inconsiderable strength, Cameron maneuvered him around and started pushing backwards towards the bathroom, making sure to keep her lips latched on to his the entire way. All she could think of at that moment was that she wanted John. There was no reason, no purpose, she simply wanted him, and she wanted him now. "I love you, John."

John's attack only stalled when his back smacked flush into the closed bathroom door, grinning at his wife and quirking an unconscious brow at the look on her face. While Cameron had always enjoyed their time together, it had seemed to bring her a kind of relaxed contentment. Now... she looked hungry.

"I love you too." Reaching up to brush some of the hair displaced by their make out session behind her ear, he smiled, "Is everything... alright?"

Cameron paused for just a moment, her mind running on a totally different track to her husband's. After a couple of seconds of staring up in to his eyes, she practically launched herself at him, her lips seeking his out almost desperately. A loud thud filled the room as his back once again hit the door with more force than a moment ago.

"I love you...John...I love you." The words were murmured in between kisses as her hands gripped at what little fat was available on his midriff for her to grab on to, pulling him down so he was as flush against her as was physically possible given the obvious height difference.

Despite getting a little worried at Cameron's frantic behavior, it was really hard for John to concentrate on much of anything with his wife grinding against him like that, "I... believe you."

"But..." John's grin deflated slightly, tossing a thumb over his shoulder towards the door, "Handle... back."

Instead of stepping back sheepishly like he expected, Cameron literally moved John out of the way, almost yanking the ancient door off it's hinges when she opened it. Satisfied it was open, she resumed her attack on him, using her body to move him in to the bathroom with her in a flurry of flailing limbs and muttered words.

John was forced to admit that was an interesting way to solve the problem, even if he did resent being tossed around like a rag-doll. Still, their current activities weren't exactly without their upsides, any worries about his body not cooperating with their plans had long since skipped out the window. "Can't see... lights."

Not bothering to detach from him, Cameron stuck an arm out and slammed her hand in to the light switch. They flickered on a moment later, and if John had been paying more attention, he might have noticed a crack on the switch, as well as the wall behind it.

"Thank you." Smirking, John decided he was done with being led around like a puppy on a leash, for the first time flexing the new muscles he'd been building in the gym over the last year.

Wrapping both arms around her slender waist, he couldn't help but grin at the way her eyes widened in shock as he hefted her until both feet left the tile floor and deposited her on the counter beside the sink, not wasting a second before leaning in to attack her chest.

Cameron arched her back to give him greater access to wherever he wanted to go. Not settling for being that passive however, she placed one hand on the back of his head and pulled him closer, using the other to take hold of his hand and roughly pulling it around to her spine, taking care to place his fingers exactly where she wanted them, just over the lower most vertebrae.

Releasing a low groan, she used the hand on his head to grab a handful of hair and pulled his head back so she could kiss him again.

"You really like that spot, don't you?" Despite his laughter, John wasted no time in going to work on her lower back, massaging in slow circles just the way his wife seemed to enjoy the most.

As expected, Cameron stiffened and shivered from the contact, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly as her eyes screwed shut. She wrapped her legs around his hips and crossed them behind his backside, pulling him in tight to her, trying to acheive as much contact possible.

"John..." Rather than her usual confident voice, her remark came out as little more than a breathy moan, "Please."

"Mmmmhhmmm," Though perfectly aware that he should probably be worried, it was a very small voice in the back of John's brain currently trying to scream that at him, the horny nineteen year old voice in the front of his head drowning it out with ease, "What do you want, Cameron?"

Slowly opening her eyes, she looked down at him with nothing short of desire on her face. She reached around to her back and placed her hand on top of his where it continued it's slow massage, pushing his hand firmer in to her spine, while lowering her head to resume kissing him.

She kissed his lips, she kissed his jaw, she kissed just behind his earlobe. Eventually she found her way to that spot on his neck she knew he loved so much. All this time, her other hand had been on a steady journey down, in between their bodies.

Okay, apparently she was just going to show him what she wanted. John couldn't say that thought bothered him overly much at the moment, groaning loudly when her free hand finally made contact with it's goal. "Fuck... Cameron."

Frowning, if only because her human didn't seem to be taking the hint, she shuffled her body forward on the counter and released her legs just a little, hopefully giving him sufficient room to work. Deciding it may take a change in tactics if she wanted him to pick up on what she wanted, and it was pretty obvious what she wanted, she leaned in for a smoldering, slow kiss, in stark contrast to the frantic desire she'd previously shown.

Not half as dense as his wife often thought him, John brought them together with more force than he usually did, Cameron's intensity starting to rub off on him at last, "What's gotten into you this morning?"

"You have...finally." Locking her legs around him again, Cameron tightened them down like a vice, forcing him closer. She wrapped one arm around his back while the other returned to her own spine, laying it on top of his as a not so subtle reminder to keep up his movement.

John needed the reminder, his brain going to mush the way it usually did when they finally got around to the main event, having more than a little difficulty trying to move in Cameron's vice-like grip, "Um...Cam? Little help here?"

What started out as a sigh of impatience quickly turned in to a growl of frustration. Releasing her legs just a little, Cameron waited until John was just where she wanted him, then tightened them again, bringing him to her whether he wanted to or not.

Pleased that he'd eventually taken the hint about her spine, she finally released the hand on top of his and brought it up to cup his face. Cameron eagerly latched her lips on to his, seemingly trying to ram her tongue as far down his mouth as she could.

John, for his part, seemed more than a little confused about how this was supposed to work if he wasn't allowed to move, but wasn't really in a position for rational dialogue at the moment - the obvious downside of the blood needed for thought being in short supply for the foreseeable future. He settled for returning her kiss just as forcefully, working his free hand into her hair while the other sped up it's movement around her spine, "Did you just growl at me?"

Rather than answer with words, she repeated her earlier movement of releasing her grip on his hips with her legs, waited for him to pull back, then slammed him roughly back towards her. All the time releasing a low moan down his throat.

John was just about to start questioning Cameron's behavior, despite the pleasant side-effects, when a loud pounding echoed from the door to the bedroom that had them both turning to face the source of the unwanted interruption.

Cole's attitude obviously hadn't improved since the last time John had seen her, doing a pretty good imitation of Cameron's earlier growl, "Johnny! We've got a problem!"

Rather than waiting for her dear husband to respond, Cameron slammed her hand against the unlocked door while holding a glare at John that practically dared him to speak.

"What do you want? We're busy!" She yelled in the direction of the door and, not exactly coincidentally, the bitchwhore on the other side.

John could only stand there mutely, positive only of the fact that he probably had a really goofy look in his face, clearly torn between amusement and shock at Cameron's actions.

Darla found herself glaring at the door, words from a conversation she'd had with Derek months earlier springing straight to mind, "Oh. I see we're starting the 'telling me is the same as telling Connor' thing early this time-line."

Finally pivoting her glare towards the door instead of John, Cameron looked like she was about ready to break something. Or someone.

"Answer my question..." She appeared poised to say something else, and was seriously considering using a term for the good Corporal that Rachel had assured her was appropriate. Unfortunately, chewing out her husband's subordinated wouldn't be considered 'normal'. It made her wonder what John found so appealing about the perception of normal to begin with.

"Perry just showed up in the fucking barracks and he needs to see Connor ASAP." Darla at last let slip a true growl of her own, clearly unhappy about having to pass the word through John's metal. "Like I said - we have a problem!"

Hearing the flustered tone in his XO's voice, John frowned pointedly, "Cameron... maybe you should let me handle..."

"He'll be there when he's ready... Corporal." Without waiting for John to say anything to the contrary, Cameron leaned down and sought his tongue like it contained the cure for cancer. At the same time she roughly grabbed his hand again, intent on making him resume the pressure on her spine, regardless of the fact that Cole was standing outside.

"Perry ain't like to wait until he's ready!" Darla's answer was accompanied by another round of banging, "Every minute he's here is a minute we risk being exposed before J-day!"

John went wide-eyed at Cameron's response, still having a fair amount of difficulty concentrating on the problem at hand while intimately connected to his wife, "Cameron... she can hear us in here."

Lowering her head, she wasted no time in attacking his neck with her lips, seemingly trying to cover every inch. When she did finally get around to responding, her voice was muffled against his skin, "Tell her...to go...away."

"It sounds pretty important Cameron." Despite himself, John found his hand resuming it's slow circles on her spine almost out of instinct. He loved his wife, he wanted her to be happy more than anything, but for the life of him he couldn't understand why she suddenly seemed to be forgetting about his responsibilities.

Hell, she was the one who used to preach to him nearly as often as Derek. "If Perry's here, we've got a problem."

"Is he...more important...than me?" Cameron managed to get the words out with her head buried in the crook of his neck, at the same time she resumed the movements of her legs, encouraging him to resume his rhythm.

"Of course not." John barely managed to gasp the words out, wanting nothing more than to finish what they started, his body telling his mind to get the fuck out of it's way already. "But I'm not just your John... I'm their Connor. That's important."

She paused her assault on his neck just long enough to look at him with something of an annoyed look on her face. Curiously though, she kept up the movement of her legs while she talked. "You're leaving to go with her, aren't you?"

"I'm leaving to do my job." He raised her annoyed look with a pleading one of his own. Why couldn't she understand this? "It's not like I want to."

Cameron released another low growl, this time however, it was definitely born of annoyance rather than desire. Unclenching her legs and letting them hang to either side of her husband, the cyborg could feel her head quirking to the side in barely contained frustration. "Then stay."

Standing in the middle of the bathroom, naked, bare feet on the cold tile and the air now hitting his sweaty skin everywhere, John couldn't help but shiver, "I'll be back as soon as I can, Cameron. I have to deal with this."

"Johnny!" Darla paused only a moment to toss a sheepish and obviously forced smile at a groggy Sarah Connor, who was herself quirking an eyebrow at the soldier as she passed the bathroom on the way downstairs for breakfast. Still not comfortable being around the woman that knocked her silly with virtually no effort, Cole did her best to just ignore the elder Connor. Once she'd cleared the space she banged again, harder this time, "Get your ass in gear soldier! We are on the clock!"

"GO AWAY!" Shoving John back less than gently and hopping up from her position on the counter in one smooth, lithe motion, Cameron practically screamed at the door, again slamming her hand on it to keep it closed. She glared at the wood as if it was responsible for breaking up her morning sex, rather than the woman on the other side.

"Cameron!" John shook his head, his worry about her worsening mental state outweighing anything the sex had brought out in him, fighting the urge to step between his wife and the door before she had a chance to yank it open and vent her frustrations directly on the woman unfortunate enough to be occupying the other side. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'll be down there in five, Cole." Smacking his own hand into the door, John did his best to put on his still-fledgling Connor voice, "Think you can keep him occupied that long, or is that too much of a stretch for your abilities, Major?"

Cameron only stood and glared. It would've been comical to see her standing there naked with her hand on the door and glaring, but there was something not quite right about the way she was looking. Her expression seemed to grow darker by the moment.

"Yeah," Darla snorted from the other side of the door, making sure to grumble loud enough that John would make it out on the other side, "Keep Perry occupied. Wonderful use of my many spectacular talents. Why didn't I think of that?"

John frowned, waiting until the soldier's voice had trailed off down the stairs before stepping back towards Cameron a little hesitantly, "Hey... are you okay?"

"I'm fine John," Hearing the major leaving their bedroom, Cameron twisted the door handle and calmly strode out in to the room. Without a backwards glance, she made her way to the dresser and started pulling out her clothes for the day. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seemed... different this morning." Despite the oddly sudden change in her behavior, John was increasingly reluctant to risk putting her back in the foul mood she'd been in a moment before by pressing her too hard for information. After all, 'don't poke the bear' was his advice.

"Was that a bad thing?" Instead of her usual innocent curiosity, Cameron sounded slightly accusatory. He had enjoyed it just as much as she had and they both knew it.

"No." Knowing that trying to lie to Cameron would be useless, John just confirmed it with a quick nod, stepping into their room and gathering up his discarded 'uniform' from the laundry basket. He had a feeling Perry expected at least some degree of professionalism, even from a teenage Resistance leader, "I'm just wondering why."

"I didn't think I needed a reason to want sex with my husband." She gracefully slid in to her underwear and walked to the closet to pull out her own version of a uniform. "Am I wrong?"

"Of course not." John stopped to frown while buttoning up his fatigues, not at all used to Cameron using logic to head off his emotions. That was usually his job. "You just... it's never been like that before. Did you hear the sounds you were making? We've had sex plenty of times, I've never gotten that kind of reaction before."

Cameron frowned behind the open closet door. John had never seen that side of her before, and the first thing it did was make him think something was wrong. Was that what he truly thought of her, that she was supposed to be passive, submissive? One show of aggression during sex and suddenly he thought she was defective? Still mostly obscured by the closet door, her husband couldn't see the sardonic look on her face. Which was probably for the best. "Perhaps your proficiency is improving."

"I guess..." Not really wanting to risk pissing her off again, John pulled his shirt on quickly and flopped back onto the bed to get his boots on, "I did enjoy it. But then again, you already know that, don't you?"

The thought of 'if you were enjoying it so much, why are you running away?', quickly flashed through Cameron's CPU. Fortunately she managed to reign that impulse in before it managed to creep out. Unfortunately, in her haste, she'd gripped the shirt she was intending to wear for the day and tried to tug it off the hanger. Instead of it coming free, she'd pulled with so much force that the garment ripped along one of the seams and cracked the flimsy plastic hanger.

A strange feeling flooded her systems. A sense of contentment, a sense of satisfaction. She'd broken something, and she felt good about it.

Quickly hiding the evidence by tucking the hanger back on the rail, Cameron poked her head out from behind the door. "Have a nice day at work John."

"Thanks." Finishing off his boots and hopping to his feet, John was more than a little confident that whatever had triggered Cameron's odd behavior this morning had worked itself out. Just by looking at her he could tell she was feeling better, "I love you. And I promise, I'll make this up to you tonight."

"You'd better." She stood on her toes and dropped a chaste kiss on his lips, then watched him jog out the door and down the stairs, already yelling orders through the house.

Now all alone, and still standing in her underwear, she had all sorts of thoughts running through her CPU like errant dust-devils. Primary amongst those was the fact that her John, her husband had once again ran off at the call of Corporal Cole. Or rather Major Cole as it now seemed. Lorne had called her his XO the last time they spoke, and obviously John hadn't felt it that it was important enough to notify her of the woman's promotion.

Strolling over to John's work desk, she ran her hand over the smooth surface until it came in to contact with a lone hard drive resting beside his laptop. Picking it up and turning it over in her hands, she suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to reduce this this thing to nothing more than a ball of twisted metal...

So that's what she did. Using both hands, she squeezed the drive and watched it fold like a piece of paper in her impossibly strong hands. Shards of metal and plastic snapped off, some even pierced the skin of her hands, but she just kept on crushing. The impulses flooding her system, informing her of the damage to her synthetic flesh was easily outweighed by the contentment the action seemed to fill her with.

Catching her reflection in a mirror, she found she was smiling. The simple act of breaking the drive had driven away the bad thoughts and replaced them with a feeling of emotional contentment, a feeling of calm.

And she liked it.


Connor Compound
Pueblo, Colorado
March 14th, 2011
1401hrs

It was rare these days that anyone could make John Connor feel like a scolded child, to put so much as a dent in the cocky smile and the slightly exaggerated gait he seemed to slip into automatically when in the presence of his soldiers. It wasn't a power trip, though he'd laid awake many a night wondering that himself in the beginning. It wasn't even that he was trying to do so in some Quixotic effort to fill the old General's shoes in their eyes - he'd long ago drawn a clear line separating the two in their minds.

No. It was simply the physical manifestation of the subconscious knowledge that for the first time in his life, John really was the most dangerous man in most rooms. Oh, there were more than a few humans littering the planet who could wipe the floor with him individually, which that dickwad Dimitri had gone to great pains to show him. But they didn't have his soldiers.

John had seen resistance cells from Peru to Columbia when he'd been growing up, and he recognized the qualities that allowed outgunned peasants to overrun empires - and his men had it in spades. Were they tactful? No. Were they respectful? Not so much. Were the undisciplined? It sure seemed that way at times.

But he'd seen them in action, he'd led them into battle, and he knew exactly what they were capable of. Despite all their faults, despite all their personality quirks, they were probably the most frightening human beings John had ever known, especially when compared against those who might stand in their way. Their enemies had rules. Their enemies had restrictions. Hell, their enemy had limits.

People who have never stared extinction in the face just don't understand the kind of fanatical response it elicits, but all you have to do is crack a history book on warfare to find more examples than you could count. Thermopylae. Stalingrad. Bastogne. Camaron. Rorke's Drift.

There is a point that once you push past, a man simply stops caring about things like death and suffering. They learn to accept them as facts of life as innocuous as rain or wind. As Seneca had so wisely pointed out, 'constant exposure to danger will breed contempt for it,' and his men had contempt in fucking droves.

But, despite all of that knowledge, all of that bluster, all of that clout handed backwards in time from his future self, when Captain Justin Perry leaned forward and slammed his palms down on the table not three feet from John's face, he nearly pissed himself. The guy was just that intimidating when in a full-on rage.

"That is the dumbest fucking idea I've ever heard!" Craning his neck like a bird of prey seeking out it's next meal, Perry focused on the first 'adult' he could find, which unfortunately for Derek, happened to be him. "And you encourage this shit? The kid is obviously in way over his head here!"

"In his defense," Shrugging like the Captain's attitude was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, which if his nephew had known Perry in the future, he would have understood, Reese had to fight the urge to glance at his watch, "The ideas that sound really stupid to start off with usually work out better for us than the ones that sound smart."

"Thanks so much, Derek." Rolling his eyes while shoving his empty coffee mug around the table in slow circles, John was pretty much at the end of his rope, "Listen, Perry, this is what we've got to work with. You sprung this shit on me less than 12 hours ago and now you're gonna complain that the plan isn't good enough for you?"

"Not good enough?" Justin's scoff carried all the way to the upper floor of the barracks, "It's suicide!"

"Again," Pinching the bridge of his nose, trying desperately not to let the events of the day coupled with Perry's attitude push him into saying something he might regret, John chose his words carefully. Even if they were ground out between clenched teeth, "I'm not the one who barged in here with a list of demands. So, how about you cut me a little slack here, Captain?"

Cole, who had been twirling a ballpoint around her fingers aimlessly for the last half hour, glanced up just long enough to toss out her totally unneeded two cents, "It was a really long list, too."

"Darla..."

"No John!" Slapping the pen down on the table with a clatter, his new XO glowered across the table at a still fuming Perry, "He's just like he was in the future - full of shit! The guy thinks the sun rises and sets out of his ass and I'm tired of putting up with it."

"Major..."

John's second attempt to intercede, rank included, didn't garner any better results than the first attempt, Cole now slipping into a full-blown rant, "We put, hell I put, more than six fucking months of work into our J-day accommodations! This guy waltzes in here like he owns the place, less than a month before the bombs drop, and totally FUBARs our plans in about five minutes. Then he has the nerve to stand there and complain about our compromise?"

"Fuck it." Slumping back into her chair with a dramatic sigh, Darla folded her arms over her chest resolutely, "I say we just let 'em burn. We don't need this headache."

"Well sweetheart," Justin's attitude wasn't improving, his words a barely controlled sneer, "It's a good thing we've got the General here to make the decisions then, isn't it."

"No." That single word, that single syllable, seemed to bring the entire table to a screeching halt. John hadn't raised his voice, he hadn't even moved, in fact, he'd spoken so quietly that the ensuing silence owed more to everyone else's desire to make out his words than it did any kind of intimidation, "She's right."

"She's..." Perry couldn't believe what he was hearing, "Right?"

"I trust my people's judgment, Captain." John allowed himself to sneer back, just a little, "Like any good commanding officer. Major Cole is right - under these circumstances, it's in our best interest to let you and yours burn on Judgment Day."

"You have got to be fucking with me," The older man had long-since ceased his posturing, the sudden change of events knocking the bluster out of him in the space of seconds, "You can't just..."

Connor cut him off with the wave of a hand, done letting the soldier dictate the terms of this negotiation. HE was the fucking General, and it was time he started acting like it, "Cole, why don't you break it down for him. Use small words, it might help."

"With pleasure, sir." Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Darla leaned back into her chair, casually drumming her fingers along the edge of the table. "All you bring to the table are your Rangers, Perry. Frankly, fighters won't be all that hard to come by once the majority of what's left of the human race learns it can either fight back or face extinction."

"Now, you might think you're holding the cards here because you've got a couple dozen grunts you don't think we'll have to retrain." Cole rolled her eyes dramatically, "But you're fucking wrong. You see, right now, you and your men are just a shade less useless than a platoon of librarians. Sure, you know how to shoot. You know how to fight. Big fucking deal, Rambo - you ain't fighting humans anymore."

"All your toys, all your gizmos, all your air support and satellite navigation - it's about to disappear. And without it? You and your boys aren't all that much more effective than any group of mercenaries with AKs, and you're about half as effective as the Resistance fighters you keep talking down to like children."

Summarizing her argument in typical Cole style, she paused just long enough to flip out a cigar and light it, exhaling smoke a bit more forcefully than necessary to give Perry just a taste of how she really felt about him, "Keeping you and your people alive at this point is charity, and beggars can't be choosers. Am I making myself crystal fucking clear?"

Glancing back between the cocky Resistance fighter and her stone-faced CO, Perry stewed for a good thirty seconds before nodding crisply, his one-word reply forced from between clenched teeth, "Understood."

"Fantastic!" Slapping a flat palm down on the oak tabletop, John leveraged himself up with an easy smile, as if their previous arguments had never even happened, "So, I'll drop you a line just as soon as we're ready to move. The black-out window will be relatively short - less than twenty-four hours, so we're gonna have to move fast."

"You should start moving the civilians to Colorado as quickly as possible, just keep it in small groups, and make up some bullshit about family vacations or something," John shrugged, snagging the sweatshirt he'd been wearing since his jacket was totaled in Armenia from the back of his chair and closing up his laptop.

Perry rose to his feet, still easily towering over the 19 year old across the table from him, "You really think you can pull this off?"

"I think we don't have a choice." Tossing a grateful smile to his departing XO, John led the Captain towards the front door, motioning to the list of names in his hand, "You want these people to live through J-day?"

"They're our families." Now trying to be diplomatic, Justin kept the majority of his growl contained to his throat, "Of course we want them to live."

"I understand." Stopping in the doorway, Connor pivoted on a heel and stopped the older man dead in his tracks, face to face, "Now it's your turn to understand. This is the only facility within reach that can sustain more than 100 people for the year necessary to ride out the worst of the fallout. When Skynet begins to seize control of the defense grid, there will be a total communications blackout in nearly every NATO-aligned country for 12-24 hours before the attack. Telecommunications, television, radio, everything. It doesn't want us to communicate, to figure out what it's about to do, and we can use that to our advantage."

Perry shook his head slowly, the kid's fierce conviction making it hard to keep doubting, "This is an American facility. My men won't want to..."

"That's why we need those uniforms, Perry." Slapping the Captain on the back, John's voice took on the energy it only seemed to carry when discussing some new plan to take down Skynet, "You think I wanna charge in their, guns blazing? Every one of those soldiers guarding the facility are another potential Resistance fighter. I want them alive, Captain... I want them on our side. Besides, the defenses are a far cry from their Cold War heyday. If things go the way I hope they will, the way I think they will, by the time anyone realizes what went wrong... we'll be sitting on a beach, earning twenty percent."

"I thought we were..."

"Just forget it." John shook his head good-naturedly, "Was watching Die Hard with Cameron last night. Listen, I've proven to you that what I'm telling you about the future is true. You've trusted me with the lives of your men, and now the lives of their families. But now comes the hard part, Captain... you have to trust that I'm really who and what I say I am. That I'll lead you through this right to the end, that I'm so damn good that I'll not only bring all of humanity together for the first time in history, but I'll toss Skynet's ass back into the hell it came from."

"And if decide you don't believe that," Shoving the door open with a shoulder, John slapped the man on the shoulder one last time before making his way towards the house, not bothering to glance back, "You're no fucking good to me anyways."


Connor Compound
Pueblo, Colorado
March 14th, 2011
0949hrs

Rachel came barreling in from the cold with her usual lack of decorum, stomping a thick layer of snow and mud accumulated during her morning patrol off onto the mat in the entryway and trudging into the kitchen in search of liquid sustenance - hopefully of the very hot variety.

It wasn't like she didn't understand the need for heightened security, especially with Perry barging through the door this morning, but that didn't mean she liked stomping around in snowdrifts nearly reaching her knees for hours on end. That sucked pretty much no matter who you were.

Rounding the bar and making a beeline for the coffee pot, Lorne caught sight of her cybernetic best friend bent over a sewing project, apparently the jacket her husband had been wearing in Armenia. Rachel was a little shocked the blood had come out in the first place, but it seemed to be in decent shape despite the collection of tears along the back.

"Hey Cameron." Shrugging off images of her boss sprawled across the pavement, Rachel managed a mostly-genuine smile and an enthusiastic pat on the back before snatching up her chipped novelty cup with 'Hot Shit' written on the side from where she'd left it after breakfast that morning, "You look..."

Quirking her head to the side in an odd imitation of the cyborg in question, she trailed off a bit as the thought occurred to her. After all, she'd never thought about this particular word relating to her friend before, "...Tired?"

Cameron only looked up from her work for a moment, and it was only to regard the spot on her shoulder Rachel had slapped when walking past, her tone oddly clipped, "I don't Sleep."

"Well," Shrugging while emptying the dregs of the pot into her cup, Rachel hopped up onto the counter and let her legs swing freely, "Looks like maybe you could use a little."

"I don't require sleep!" Her voice raising just a little, Cameron had to suppress a growl of frustration. Why couldn't humans just let something drop after they'd been told the first time? It was a maddening character fault nearly all of them seemed prone to.

"Alright! Sheesh." Rachel just shook her head with a smirk, tossing her knit hat onto the counter beside her and trying to run a few fingers through her hopelessly tangled hair, "How was date night?"

Cameron released a very human-sounding sigh, apparently deciding to humor the woman - if only to get her to leave her in peace. She liked Rachel, she really did... except today. Her chipper attitude was grating on her nerves in a way it never had before, and that realization only made her emotional state worse. The cyborg wasn't stupid, she realized something was wrong with her, and every time it manifested itself and reminded her of that fact, it only served to make her more apprehensive. "It was fine. We had dinner, watched a movie, and went to bed."

"Sorry I couldn't make it." Nodding side to side, Rachel frowned at a burr she'd found in her hair before tossing it into the trashcan, "Shit time to pull guard duty, huh? Poor Greg's paws were little icicles by the time I got her back to the barracks."

Cameron tilted her head distractedly, trying to keep her focus on the sewing in front of her, "Frostbite and pneumonia would have set in long before the canine's paws turned to icicles."

"Well, they were covered in ice. She must've spent an hour and a half licking it all off." Snorting in the most unladylike manner Cameron had seen outside of Coons, Rachel let out a long sigh, "Still more action than I've seen in the last six months though."

"You wish to have your hands and feet licked by a dog?" Yes, Cameron decided, 'grating' was definitely the appropriate term.

"Um... no?" Chalking up the failure to communicate to her friend's unique sense of humor, Rachel clarified with a sheepish smile, "But a human being? Other places? Yeah... I've missed that. Come on, you like what you have with John, right? Is it so weird to imagine I might want that for myself?"

Cameron actually did turn away from her work at that, the look on her face decidedly unpleasant, "You wish for John to lick your body?"

"John? No!" Despite her snap judgment at the human's words, the sixteen different shades of red Lorne was turning seemed to imply she was telling the truth, "Of course not! I mean, John is great and all, and he does have that sexy 'I could kill you with my pinky' thing going on, but he's your husband."

Turning back to her work abruptly, Cameron bobbed her head a fraction of an inch, "It's good that you remember that... unlike some people."

"Ice Queen giving you trouble again?" Rachel shook her head, "Doesn't surprise me. She's been a bitch on wheels for the last few days - nearly took my head off for throwing away one of her half-smoked cigars."

For the first time Cameron could recall, she could actually sympathize with Cole. For some reason, the pitch in Lorne's voice was really bothering her this morning, "It's nothing I can't handle."

Really not wanting to go back to the barracks before Perry got the hell out of there, Rachel figured a little idle conversation wouldn't hurt anything, "Saw John a few times in the barracks. He seemed pretty relaxed."

"He is?" Realizing the strip of cloth she'd been using to patch the inner liner of John's jacket was directly underneath Lorne's ass on the counter, Cameron stood and marched over to the soldier while shaking her head, "That's... surprising."

"Why in the hell would that be surprising?" Rachel was smiling practically ear to ear, still kicking her legs like a six year old on a park bench in time with the ticking clock, "I heard you two had a 'good time' last night."

Unfortunately for the good Corporal, Cameron chose that exact moment to look up, her patented 'blank face' leveled just inches off the other woman's nose, "Who informed you of that?"

"Are you kidding?" Obviously missing sudden change in mood, Lorne was laughing softly to herself, "I thought we were gonna have to explain to Carmack where little robo-babies come from. Lemmie tell you, that would not have been a fun conversation."

Cameron found herself staring down at the floor, suddenly upset about the fact she couldn't provide John with offspring. Human being placed an inordinate amount of emphasis on procreation, especially when considering someone like her husband. It would be considered a great loss if the genetic line that had produced John and Sarah Connor were to die out entirely because of his choice in wives.

Then, as quickly as the sadness had arrived, it was replaced with something else. Something she'd been feeling earlier after John had departed, the same something that made her crush his hard drive into a small ball of nondescript scrap. Without even thinking about it, she snatched the strip of cloth still lodged between Lorne and the counter, almost sending her friend tumbling to the floor.

"Whoa!" Despite sloshing half of her coffee onto the floor, Rachel managed to keep herself from sliding completely over the edge, barely snagging the cabinet in time. Still, she didn't look angry at the cyborg, but more than a little concerned as she tried to reach around Cameron to grab the paper towels. "You could have just asked, ya know?"

Rachel wasn't sure if she had imagined the glare before Cameron quickly resumed her seat and got back to work, "You were in my way."

If she hadn't known she was a machine, Lorne would have sworn her friend was acting like a petulant child in the middle of a temper tantrum, pausing in her cleanup long enough to glance back over her shoulder, "Did I... do something?"

Cameron could hear the hurt tone in her best friend's voice, but remained silent as she worked. She didn't want to hurt her friend, but she was having a hard enough time trying to keep it all together without adding this to the scenario. Shutting up seemed the easiest way not to risk saying anything to make matters worse, vainly hoping Rachel would take the hint and just leave her in peace.

"Cameron, please... talk to me." Finishing her cleanup and tossing the sopping towels into the trash, the soldier made her way slowly, hesitantly towards her friend, "Do you need me to get John?"

"Why do you always assume I need John? I'm not a child." Cameron's demeanor seemed to be implying exactly the opposite, looking for all the world like she was going to stomp her foot as she glared up at her.

"Because Cameron...," Despite her usual lack of tact, Lorne actually looked reluctant to mention this, clearly torn between a measure of fear and more than a little awe at the sight before her, "You're... you're crying."

Lifting a finger up to her right eye, Cameron was nearly as startled as her friend when she pulled it back to find a tear rolling down it towards her palm, staring at it for nearly a minute in complete silence.

"Can I help?" Rachel braved a few more tentative steps forward, "Can I get you something?"

Her outstretched hand clenching unconsciously into a fist, the pressure was so intense she was surprised she hadn't broken a nail. Cameron couldn't imagine how she could have possibly let this amount of emotion, this amount of weakness, show through her carefully cultivated exterior, "I'm fine."

"If you're fine...," Rachel's words trailed off again, obviously thinking of Cameron as her friend rather than a machine that could crush her with virtually no effort, she reached out and snagged her clenched hand, "Why are you cut up? What happened?"

"You're scaring me, Cameron." Despite her words, Rachel found herself stepping forward a few feet, her friend's emotional state making her want to reach out and hold her, "Whatever this is, holding it in is obviously causing problems. You're crying in the middle of the kitchen."

Cameron shook her head, Rachel was right. She shouldn't have been crying in the middle of the kitchen. Her hands were cut, she snapped at her friend and now she was letting her control slip. This was quite frankly unacceptable. "I said I'm FINE! I DON'T need your help!" She managed to muster up a glare at the approaching young woman.

For the first time in their conversation, fear started to show through on Rachel's face, knowing full well that only her husband seemed able to help Cameron through her occasional mood-swings, "I'm... I'm gonna get John, okay?"

"No!" Cameron exclaimed, her voice panicked as she reached out and snagged Rachel's hand and held her in place...squeezing harder than she intended, "Don't get John. I...I'm fine, I swear."

"Cameron, he needs to know about this." Cringing a little, all the blood rushing out of her rapidly whitening digits, "He can help you. If you won't tell me, you have to talk to him..."

Cameron tightened her grip on the small hand, the only thing stopping her friend from leaving, she looked downright desperate to stop any of this from getting back to her John. "No...please."

"It's alright." Trying her best to look calm and reassuring while seriously hoping her hand wouldn't be crushed, Rachel decided on one last compromise, "I won't tell John. But you have to tell someone, alright? If you tell me, I promise it will stay just between us."

Cameron released her grip just a little, enough to let the blood start flowing back in to Rachel's fingers. Looking up at her friend, she closely resembled a child begging not to be ratted out to her parents. "You won't tell John?"

"I won't." Knowing Cameron was perfectly capable of detecting the truth when in such close physical contact, Rachel tried desperately to keep her heartbeat under control, "Please, you obviously need to talk to someone. That's what friends are for."

"I..." Still clutching at Rachel's hand, Cameron froze mid sentence. She desperately didn't want John to know how defective she was, that morning's activities were enough of an indication of that.

Having known the cyborg long enough to at least understand which buttons to push, Rachel leaned closer and lowered her voice, "If not for you... what about John? Do you think he'd want you to be like this? To have to worry about this on top of everything else that's going on?"

Shaking her head, Cameron released her friends hand and averted her gaze to the floor. When her answer came, it was in such a tiny voice her friend could barely make it out, "No."

"Then why don't you sit down and let me help you?" Massaging her fingers in a bid to get the blood flowing again, Rachel tried on a sickly smile, motioning to a chair across the table.

Pausing to consider it for a moment, eventually Cameron made her way over in the direction of Rachel's hand and slowly took the offered chair. She looked up to see Rachel sitting opposite her, but made no move to speak, or even acknowledge her friend.

"Cameron, this only words if you're honest." Fighting off a smirk at the oddly childish look on the cyborg's face, Rachel decided to help her get started, "Can you tell me why you were crying?"

"I wasn't crying," suddenly Cameron burst in to life, vehemently shaking her head. "I'm a machine, I don't cry."

"Bullshit." Though she looked sad about her friend's level of denial, Rachel wasn't about to let her out if it that simply, "Machines don't love either... so lets just stop pretending you're 'just a machine', kay?"

Once again averting her gaze to the pattern of the floor tiles, Cameron's frown returned full force, as if her stubborn resistance was starting to crumble. "I..." She paused again, reluctant to reveal what she considered to be a defect, "...had a dream."

There it was, her secret was out. Cameron looked away, ashamed to be admitting something that made her look so weak, even in front of someone she trusted as much as she did her friend Rachel.

"Wait a minute," Making sure to keep her voice calm, Lorne's confusion still shown through, what she was hearing not making any sense when compared to what she knew about Cameron, "I thought you didn't sleep? How could you dream?"

Cameron started to shake her head frantically, denial seeming to be the best course of action for her to take, "I...I don't know, it's...it's not possible."

"It's alright Cameron, just calm down." Smiling softly, Rachel reached forward and rested her hand on top of her friend's, "When did this happen?"

"Two nights ago," she looked down again, taking comfort in the small touch from the woman opposite her. "I closed my eyes, as I always do when I'm in bed with John, and then..."

"You had a dream." Rachel finished for her, that same awe returning to her voice, looking surprisingly happy for her, "Cameron... why would that be a bad thing?"

"Cyborgs don't dream," she frowned at the young woman's exuberance over this issue. "We shouldn't even sleep. We go in to standby when we need to recycle energy, and we only need to do that twice in our operating span."

"Okay." Though Lorne found herself nodding along, the tech-stuff was way above her comfort level. Luckily, emotions and dreaming were two things she had a lifetime of experience with, "But you're not exactly a... well, 'normal' cyborg. Right?"

"That doesn't change the fact that I slept," she replied with a shake of her head, as if she was trying to make sense of all this for the first time. "I was not fond of the experience."

"So, was it a dream... or a nightmare?" Rachel joined her friend in shaking her head, "Cause I get the feeling you wouldn't be this worked up if it had just been you and John running naked on a beach."

"It...was both," Cameron looked up at her friend, almost like a kid looking up at its parents for advice, "Is that possible? Does that happen to you?"

"Yeah, all the time." Shrugging, Lorne tried her best to think of a simple way to explain the phenomenon to the cyborg, "Sometimes a dream turns into a nightmare, or a nightmare into a dream. There really aren't any hard rules to this hon, it's all subconscious."

"Then I believe I would classify it as both a dream and a nightmare," she frowned and looked back down at the floor, "I didn't like the nightmare."

Rachel leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands, totally captivated by the idea of exploring a cyborg's inner thoughts. After all, she'd always wondered what made her metal friends tick, "What was it about?"

"It was about me...and John, about our lives together...but it wasn't our lives, it was like an alternate possibility. It was disjointed, chaotic." Cameron's voice picked up both in volume and speed, that coupled with the shaking of her head made it look like the onset of a mild panic attack, her emotions spiking as a result of her lack of understanding of what her dream meant

"Then tell me about it," Rachel smiled reassuringly and gave Cameron's hand a gentle squeeze, "Maybe we can figure it out together. After all, I have a little more experience with dreams than you do."

Calmed somewhat by her words, Cameron nodded her agreement, "When I closed my eyes, it felt like only a moment had passed when I opened my eyes again. But I wasn't in bed, I wasn't with my John."

Rachel nodded, "And that scared you?"

"I couldn't find John, he wasn't there," Cameron looked for all the world like a scared child as she related her dream, almost as if she was reliving it in her CPU. "It scared me. I was in a bunker of some kind...but I couldn't control my body, it was being moved without my direction."

"Ooooohhh, Zombie Dream." Rachel nodded sagely, "I hate those. Like being a puppet without strings."

"Yes!" Cameron was openly impressed with the insight her friend was providing. Perhaps this might not be such a futile endeavor after all, "I made my way to the command center, John's command center. He was there in the middle of the room issuing orders, he saw me."

"So you found him?" Squeezing her friend's hand again, Rachel leaned forward to look her in the eyes, "That help?"

Cameron found herself smiling in addition to her nod. The smile stretching across her face was the first one she'd had since John left her that morning. "Yes. He looked delighted to see me. I walked over to him and kissed him...right there, in front of everybody. Our wedding rings made contact when he took my hand in his."

Her friend's reaction to the scene gave Lorne hope that maybe things weren't as serious as Cameron seemed to believe they were, "So, it wasn't really that bad then?"

"Corporal Cole was there," Cameron said with a frown. "She glared at me the entire time. Then...John became distracted, an explosion rocked the command center."

"So..." Lorne couldn't help but look a little sad, visions of the future stealing through her mind, "More like reality than a dream, huh?"

Cameron's brow cinched together as she recalled more details, more confusing details. "My vision distorted when another explosion hit, and then I was out in the tunnels. A woman approached me with her daughter," she paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. "She seemed...happy, to see me. She wasn't afraid, neither of them were, they seemed to be... in awe of me."

Rachel couldn't help but look confused - most humans didn't respond that way in her experience, "Because you're a machine?"

"No, because I was John's wife. Her daughter had a gift for me to give to John, a bracelet." the thought gave her pause, the thought of her husband bringing a smile to her face. "He liberated her from a work camp...she complimented my wedding ring, she said it was pretty."

Cameron glanced down as she idly played with said ring, glad it was still very much in place on her finger where it belonged.

"A lot of people feel that way about John, especially in the future." Rachel couldn't help but think about her own savior, a battle-scarred machine John had reprogrammed... the very reason she was friends with Cameron instead of cowering in terror around her like the other soldiers, "Must have been nice."

"It was, the little girl hugged me. I enjoyed it...I closed my eyes and held her tight." Cameron found herself smiling again, this portion of her experience she'd definitely classify as a dream and not a nightmare, "When I opened them I'd moved again, this time I was in our quarters with John."

"Ooooohhh," In typical Lorne fashion, the soldier was distracted by the prospect of something shiny and exciting, "Naked time with the General?"

"Not exactly," Cameron said with a frown. "I gave the bracelet to him...he threw it in a drawer. That bracelet was precious to the child, and he threw it in a drawer with all the other gifts he'd received without even looking at it beforehand. He wasn't acting like my John."

"So... he was changing then? Into a different kind of man I mean." Her friend looked clearly uncomfortable, as if afraid of offending Cameron, "More like... our John. The one we left in the future?"

Nodding solemnly, Cameron continued her story in a smaller than usual voice. "Yes. I thought I could talk to him, try to save him, but then Cole knocked on the door and came in." She raised her head to look Lorne in the eye, "She came in to my quarters, our quarters without waiting for a response. She wouldn't dare do that here."

"Wouldn't be so sure of that Cameron," The cyborg could tell Rachel was no happier about this new reality than she was, "Now that she's his right hand again."

Cameron frowned, she wasn't exactly in need of a reminder of that fact. "She informed him of the situation in the command center and he left. I tried to follow and she stopped me, she blocked my path, told me I was more use to him in the bedroom than by his side out there."

"Wow... cold much?" Quirking a brow, a semi-pleasant thought occurred to Lorne, "Did you terminate the bitch? Cause that's one of the awesome things about dreams - no real world consequences for venting your anger."

"No, I didn't," she looked decidedly unhappy about that fact, regretting the fact she wasn't in control of her actions during this dream. "She slammed the door in my face, and then I found myself in the wa room with John and his generals. They were planning something, the destruction of Skynet itself."

"I was there for that ya know." Despite the circumstances, Lorne looked exceedingly proud of herself, "We tore through the defense grid like a hot knife through butter, real old-school Blitzkrieg. Good times."

Cameron shook her head in stark contrast to her friends excitement, "This wasn't. I approached John. He'd promised to free the machines under his command, the reprogrammed ones...like me."

"Once Skynet was defeated he was to give them free will and set them free," She raised her gaze up to meet Rachel's, her brown eyes glistening again, "Rachel, he refused."

"Oh Cameron," Even Lorne looked like she might start crying, knowing just how horrible a betrayal like that must have been for her friend, "John would never do that. Even our John saw the machines as equals - we never could have won the war without them."

"I know that...he knows that, I'm sure of it." She shook her head, trying her best to refocus on her task, emotions not withstanding. "The next time I moved, I was seeing John off for battle. However it appeared that Cole had already done my work for me. She was fussing over him like..."

"Like what Cameron?" Rachel appeared oddly focused on her friend, who seemed about to start crying again. Or smash the table to bits... it was hard to tell.

"Like a wife does for her husband." Cameron clenched her fist again, this time it thankfully wasn't wrapped around her best friend's comparatively fragile digits.

If she hadn't cracked a nail earlier, she was on the verge of chipping a tooth now, such was the force they were gritted together, "The battle was successful, John came home."

"He was...inaccessible. There were crowds of people, hundreds, thousands, I couldn't be sure. John and Cole stepped out of the helicopter. John looked cold, distant, like him. Cole looked like she was thrilled to be at his side. The crowd started chanting, 'kiss, kiss'." She frowned, almost as if the words left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Oh...," Nodding slowly, Rachel frowned as well, "And now comes the nightmare."

"I tried to get to them but I couldn't. There were too many people, they were too strong." Cameron looked terrified at this moment, clearly not used to not being stronger than everyone around her. "You gave John a bottle of champagne, he and Cole drank from it, arm in arm."

She looked up and glared at Rachel, as if it was her fault for participating in her dream.

"Hey... sorry." Despite a defensive smirk, Lorne was clearly shifting uncomfortably under the cyborg's glare, "I promise not to stock any champagne in the future, okay?"

Cameron's glare subsided after a moment when she continued with her tale. "While they drank, I spotted a triple eight making it's way towards John. It had it's weapon raised and pointed at him. I managed to push my way through the crowds just in time...but I wasn't strong enough, it pushed me out of the way." She once again spoke with a raised, frantic voice. She didn't like the thought that she could be so helpless, especially when her John was in danger.

"Cameron, it was just a dream." Without any thought to the potential danger of a cyborg lashing out emotionally, Rachel reached out and snagged Cameron's hand in both of hers, patting the top gently with her own, "Not real. John is fine."

The cyborg managed a weak smile, the worst part of the dream, and the most unsettling for her personally, was still ahead, "I looked back, expecting to see the worst, but Cole managed to destroy the unit with a plasma rifle. The crowd had gone silent, I thought John had been killed... but everyone was staring at me, at my exposed iris."

"A machine tried to kill John the day he beat Skynet," Rachel nodded in understanding, "And they saw you for what you are. I doubt that went over well."

"It didn't. They wanted to destroy me. John was injured... there was nothing he could do to stop them." Glancing up from under her bangs, Cameron looked devastated at the idea of losing John, "Derek and some of John's other men managed to pull me free, to get me clear of the mob before they had their way."

Rubbing her thumb in slow circles atop her friend's hand, Rachel's voice was barely above a whisper, "Did John make it?"

Cameron suddenly flipped her hand over and clutched the Corporal's fingers in her own, "John did... you didn't. You were still at John's side when the Triple-8 attacked. It killed you. I couldn't prevent it, I couldn't get there in time to..."

"Like I said, it's just a dream," Rachel reminded her gently, "Besides, you did the right thing trying to protect John. I'm not important enough for you to be worrying about."

Though Cameron managed a small nod, knowing the woman's words were true, she still didn't like hearing them. Rachel was important. She was important to her. "I tried to see John after you died, I needed to talk about what I was feeling. The emotions were overwhelming, and I knew he could help me understand them."

"I know," Squeezing her hand back, Lorne smiled, "He takes good care of you."

But Cameron just shook her head, "No, he didn't. I couldn't see him. I was stopped at the door to my own quarters by Cole's soldiers. They threatened me, wouldn't let me past."

"Cole's soldiers?" Rachel quirked a brow at that, "You mean John's soldiers, right?"

"No, her soldiers... her assassins. She was there, she came out of our quarters, afraid the disruption would wake John... she was wearing his clothes." Barely able to give voice to what she'd seen, Cameron could feel another tear slowly winding it's way down her cheek, "I scanned her form, detecting a change. She was pregnant."

"Oh, Cameron." That was too much for Rachel to accept dispassionately, standing and making her way around the table to her friend's side, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and squeezing as tightly as she could, "No wonder you were crying."

Despite feeling oddly comforted by the woman's embrace, Cameron pried her loose a few seconds later so she could look into her eyes, "You can't tell John about this. You promised."

"I promised." Rachel repeated the words, though she obviously wasn't at all thrilled with the idea, "But why won't you talk to him about it? Cameron, you had a dream! This is huge!"

Cameron shook her head vehemently, "No. This is not 'huge', this is a problem I need to deal with. I don't want John to know about it, or anyone else for that matter."

"I just don't understand why this is a bad thing." She couldn't help it, Rachel was entirely lost, "You have emotions and fears and independent thought. Why are you so surprised you're becoming... well, more like us?"

"Because I shouldn't be!" By this point, the cyborg looked nearly frantic, convinced that her friend was going to tell her husband of her malfunction, "I'm defective. John won't want me if he finds out."

Rachel looked torn between worry and feeling vaguely insulted that her friend considered normal human traits to be 'defects', "How can you say that? You'd be more like him... is being like John bad?"

"I wouldn't be like him. This... isn't what I was designed for." The look on her face told the Corporal there was no chance of her budging on this point, "I could snap and kill him at any moment. I don't ever want to endanger him that way. This problem needs to be fixed, Rachel."

"O... okay." Shrugging uncomfortably, her promise and her better judgment now clearly at odds, the soldier forced a good-natured smirk, "You sure don't look dangerous to me, Cameron."

Swiping her eyes one last time, the cyborg ignored her last comment and turned back to her work, as if nothing had happened, "Thank you for your concern, Rachel. I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier."

"Don't worry about it," Lorne nodded slowly, at a total loss as to how to help her friend, "I'm headed back out to the barracks, you want I should pass anything on to hubby?"

"No," Returning to her sewing, tone now completely neutral, their little talk seemed to have sorted Cameron out for at least the time being. Either that, or it had just helped her enough to allow her to resume hiding her emotions from everyone. It was this second possibility that had Lorne shuffling her feet aimlessly, still not comfortable leaving, "I wouldn't want to disturb him during such an important meeting."

"Fair enough." Patting her friend on the shoulder one last time, Rachel pulled her knit cap back down onto her head, tossed her coffee cup into the sink, and trudged back out the door into the snow. More confused now than she could ever remember being before.

Lorne couldn't read, but that didn't mean she was stupid - she'd never have been chosen to go back in time and support the General himself otherwise. She understood how humans worked, at least to a point, and was reasonably sure she understood her friend better than anyone outside her husband.

Humans dreamed because the subconscious could only be shut out for so long before it demanded a little time front and center in the hierarchy of the brain, which was the reason that so many of the higher species had to sleep regularly or suffer mental breakdown. If Cameron's emotions had developed to the point her logic-driven CPU had needed to develop a subconscious to protect itself... then things were proceeding at a pace no one had expected, and Cameron could very well suffer a breakdown herself - or whatever the machine equivalent of that was.

No wonder the cyborg was terrified. And if Lorne was being honest with herself, she was starting to sympathize.


Connor Compound
Pueblo, Colorado
March 14th, 2011
1836hrs

John could barely keep his eyes open as he shoved the door to his bedroom open with a lowered shoulder, both arms piled nearly to overflowing with his laptop and enough papers to start a freaking pinata factory, and unloaded his burden unceremoniously onto his already crowded desk. Quirking a brow at a small pile of what appeared to be broken plastic, he brushed it over the edge into the trashcan and flipped his laptop open, setting it to boot before flopping into his seat and setting to work on his boots.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time to spend most of the previous night making love to Cameron, now he was in the unenviable position of trying to keep his brain functioning on two hours sleep with hundreds of lives relying on his judgment. Catching sight of Cameron's crumpled sleepwear near the foot of his bed while tossing his boots in that general direction, he was still finding it pretty hard to regret that decision.

Despite his attitude, Perry's request wasn't exactly unreasonable. Frankly, John felt like a moron that the idea hadn't occurred to him earlier. Of course those men would want to bring their families with them into the bunker, what kind of heartless son of a bitch wouldn't? None of the fighters sent back from the future had family though, and it just hadn't been a part of John's considerations up to that point.

It was a mistake he'd have to make sure he didn't repeat. It was his fucking job to foresee these problems before they happened, but he'd allowed himself to get distracted, trying to shove 30 years of 'normal' married life into the last few weeks before the world ended.

Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands, John settled in for the long haul, smirking a bit when his e-mail showed six messages from Cole in the short period since he'd left the barracks. The woman was nothing if not efficient, the figures he'd asked for springing to life before his eyes hours before he'd expected them.

John had absolutely no idea how long he'd been at it when the bedroom door creaked open off to his right, the only signpost he could force into his sleep-deprived brain at the moment was the fact he'd heard Breaking Benjamin's Blow Me Away at least three times, and considering the length of his playlist... that wasn't a good sign.

Using the interruption as a much-needed chance to stretch aching muscles, he leaned back in his chair with a groan, letting his headphones fall down onto his neck while shifting it side to side with a satisfying crack of cartilage, "When did you get in?"

"I never left." Cameron answered with a tilt of her head, holding his jacket out for inspection, "I was in the kitchen repairing the battle damage."

"You patched up my jacket?" Tossing his headphones onto the desk and spinning his chair to face his wife, John accepted the coat with a grateful smile, "I thought this thing was totaled."

"It was. The blood was particularly difficult to get out, but I persisted. I know how important it is to you." Taking the jacket and hanging it on the closet doorknob, Cameron turned John back around by the arms and set to work on the tension she'd noticed between his shoulders the moment she'd arrived. It was clear John had been pushing himself too hard again, and it bothered her more than she wanted to admit that he refused to take her advice and relax for a while, "How was your meeting?"

"About what you'd expect." John snorted without humor, shaking his head, "Perry wouldn't agree to fight with us unless I found room for the families of his men. Nearly a hundred and twenty civilians Cameron, eight of them under five years old!"

Letting slip a weary sigh, he could feel the tension rushing out of him under his wife's gentle ministrations, "Can you believe that shit? Infants, in my bunker. It's hard enough keeping them in line around Savannah, and at least she's used to machines."

Cameron frowned at the level of stress she detected through her fingertips, John's blood pressure twenty points above what it should have been for someone his age and in his physical condition, "You don't wish to have children in the bunker?"

"I know it's necessary." Letting his eyes drift closed, John smiled lazily, "I just figured it would come later. Like when mom decided she wanted grandkids."

"When are they being moved?" The thought of children was anything but a happy one for the cyborg, and she wanted to move past it as quickly as possible.

"Was just working on that, actually." Leaning forward a few inches and pointing idly at the screen of his laptop, John shrugged, apparently ready to get back to work, "Probably going to have to steal a few passenger buses. I'm sure Dooley would love that assignment."

Cameron took the opportunity to lean forward, letting her hair tickle along John's cheek, "You should relax for a while."

"Can't." Shaking his head, John was already clearly engrossed in the numbers scrolling across the screen. He knew that any error could cost people their lives, anything he overlooked could, and likely would, come back to bite them in the ass. This was game time, and he was finally focused on his task, "I've got enough work to last me weeks here. Since we don't have weeks... I'm gonna have to bust my ass."

"I can think of a few things you might find more enjoyable," Letting her lips drift along John's pulse, and down to his collarbone, Cameron tried to fight off a frown at her husband's lack of response. She wasn't used to being rejected, or interrupted for that matter. Unlike John, she had nothing to distract her, nothing to keep her from focusing on the alien and frankly frightening impulses springing to life where nothing had been before. She needed the clarity she felt when being with John, and she resented him for withholding it.

"Huh?" Clearly not paying attention, John scrolled further down the list, eyes scanning side to side while he clicked his tongue absently.

"I said we could finish what we started this morning," Leaning further down, Cameron let her hands ghost along his shoulders, fingers dipping below the collar of his shirt and running along his chest, nuzzling into his neck, "You seemed to be enjoying yourself before you were called away."

"You know I'd like that," Despite his words, John frowned a bit as he reached up and gave one of her hands a gentle squeeze, "But I have to take care of this, Cam. I'm sorry."

"Are you sure you won't..." Using all the data she'd accumulated on her John, Cameron paused just long enough to run her tongue over the spot on his neck that always seemed to 'motivate' her husband, "Reconsider?"

"I can't." Tilting his head around to drop a quick peck on Cameron's lips, John turned back to the computer a moment later, "I'll be lucky if I get to sleep tonight."

Glancing down at the hands clacking away at a keyboard instead of tearing her clothes off of her, Cameron could feel her disappointment ramping up to full-blown anger, snatching John's left hand and thrusting it in front of his face, "John..."

"Whoa!" Clearly misreading what was going on, John frowned, "Listen, Cameron, I really appreciate the effort, but I just don't have the time to..."

"You're not wearing your ring!" Cameron was glaring daggers at him, any thoughts of sex now long gone, unable to think of any justifiable reason he would have removed his wedding band.

"Oh?" Thrown a bit by her sudden shift into rage, it took John's brain a moment to realize what she was referring to, suddenly feeling like an even bigger idiot, "Oh! Yeah, I took it off for the meeting."

Rummaging around in his pocket for a few seconds with his free hand, John fished his wedding ring out and slipped it back onto his finger with what he hoped was a placating smile, "I didn't know why Perry showed up here, and the last time we saw him we weren't married. Didn't want to give him any potential leverage, anything he could use against me."

"So, now I'm something to be used against you? Just another weakness?" Releasing/tossing his hand back into his chest, Cameron could feel the impulse to lash out, to break something, rushing headlong towards the surface, "I thought I was your wife!"

"I'm John Connor." Frowning, John fiddled with his ring absently. He'd talked to Cameron about this a million times, and he had thought she understood it. "How many people have died just because they're close to me? Todd and Janelle? Riley? How many, Cameron?"

Glancing down at the small circle of silver coated with titanium, he found himself wondering when it had all gotten so complicated. The he remembered - it always had been. "I don't want to add you to that list."

"I can take care of myself. John..." Cameron was starting to struggle just to get her words out, such was her annoyance at his behavior, "...how could you. I thought this marriage was precious to you...it is to me."

"It's not like we stopped being married because I took the ring off." Shaking his head and going back to his work, John shrugged, "Just a bit of infiltration Cameron. Thought you of all people would understand that."

Eying him warily, she glanced back and forth between John's haggard face and the pile of work shoved to one side of the desk. She never had liked Perry in the future, and John did have a point. Now that she'd taken a moment to reign her emotions back in a little, she could see that. Still, she couldn't help but be a little pissed off, with him, but also the situation in general.

John had often found physical activity to be an effective stress-reliever, using his sessions in the barracks with the men to 'blow off steam'. Cameron certainly felt like she needed to release a quantity of super-heated water herself, and the idea of clearing her head while engaging in an activity she hadn't had time for in months.

Walking over to their dresser, she kneeled down and began rummaging through the 'miscellaneous' drawer, comprising anything that wasn't a traditional article of clothing - having reorganized John's system upon moving into his room, to meet her own exacting standards.

Without glancing up from the keyboard, John quirked a brow at the noise coming from behind, "Getting ready for bed?"

"No John," Finding her outfit exactly where she'd left it, Cameron actually found herself smiling at the thought of what she was about to do. "I'm going to practice my ballet."

Nodding distractedly while wading through a new slew of messages from his XO, "Um... have fun with that."

Looking at the back of her husband's head expectantly, Cameron could practically feel the annoyance she was hoping to suppress by dancing returning again. All she knew was that she wanted relief, she wanted to dance, and she wanted it now."John, order your men to clear the living room for me."

"What?" Still not glancing up from his work, John couldn't help rolling his eyes at Cole's dire predictions about food and medical supplies, "I'm a little busy right now, Cameron. Ask them yourself."

"No John, they won't listen to me. Order them to move." She wants to dance, and clearly he didn't want to be close to her, otherwise they'd be tearing each other's clothes off by now. The only alternative was the living room, but it was crowded with his soldiers. They hated her, why should she have to be the one that tells them to move?

"You're my wife, they'll listen to you."Despite understanding her reluctance to deal with the men head-on, John couldn't help but get a little tired of the way everyone in the compound kept making their problems his problems. Didn't he have enough to deal with already without the drama?

Glaring at the back of his head, Cameron could feel her fist clenching tighter around her ballet clothes, "Order them NOW!"

Okay, that was odd.

Spinning his chair around to look at his wife, John found himself a bit taken aback by the fact she looked like she was ready to punch someone, "Cameron... what's going on?"

"I want to dance and your men are in my way." Cameron's tone told him her next words were anything but a joke, "Order them to move, or I'll move them myself."

"They're working, like me." John could feel his brow crinkling in confusion, unable to fathom how it was Cameron seemed to be misunderstanding this, "Preparing for the end of the world is a little more important than your hobby, don't you think?"

Cameron stepped forward menacingly, her clothes still clenched in one white-knuckled fist, "What am I supposed to do John? Stand in the corner until you're ready to have sex with me?"

"I didn't say that." He couldn't entirely suppress a pissy look of his own, not exactly appreciating how she was making him out to be this huge asshole just for putting human lives before her whims, "Is this about this morning?"

"No, this is about you not doing as I ask." Shaking her head vigorously, Cameron leveled a impatient glance at him, "Are you going to move them or not?"

"I really don't get it." Tossing his hands up in surrender, John appeared totally at the end of his rope, "You're constantly worried about the men disliking you, now all of a sudden you want me to kick them out into the barracks for the night so you can dance in the livingroom? Not a great way to make friends Cameron."

"Fine, then I'll just 'move' them myself." Cameron began striding for the door even before she'd finished speaking, fully intending to throw anyone unfortunate enough to still be in the livingroom out on their ass.

"You can't just do that!" Jumping up to his feet, he was starting to get genuinely worried about his wife's behavior. "Please, Cameron. Just give me a few hours to get this straightened out, and I'll spend some time with you. I promise."

Turning around, Cameron tilted her head to one side, "I'm not a child that needs your attention."

"No," John was perfectly willing to admit that much, "You're acting more like a spoiled child."

Practically growling at his insinuation, Cameron's glare could have burned through lead, "Are you telling me I can't dance?"

"I'm telling you that your need to relax isn't as important as the work we're trying to accomplish." Letting slip a tired sigh, John was desperately trying to figure out what had happened to his wife, "We're all under stress right now, Cameron. That doesn't mean we get to act the way you are."

For her part, Cameron was totally unable to comprehend why her husband was suddenly treating her like a child, her anger threatening to spill over, now that he was being condescending too, that just made it worse. "What would you like me to do John? Would you like me to stay here? Be your perfect little wife?"

"Hey, no one ever forced you to marry me, alright?" John was starting to get worked up himself, not at all appreciating her attitude after everything else that had been happening lately. "If you're not happy with it, you just let me know."

She was so tempted to do just that. To scream, to yell, to knock his head clear off his shoulders. Instead, she settled for a low growl, "Get out."

John just stood there for a long moment, clearly unimpressed, "What was that?"

"You heard me." Tilting her head to the side had an entirely different effect when she was angry, much more threatening than cute and quirky. Like a predator stalking it's prey, "Get out."

John forced himself to take a long, deep breath, reminding himself that Cameron's emotions were new to her and he just might be coming down on her a little too hard, "Come on, you don't mean that."

"Yes I do. Leave now," Stepping forward, Cameron's glare left no doubt in either of their minds, "I'm not going to tell you again."

"This is where I live." Her husband glanced around pointedly, "Where I sleep. Where am I supposed to go?"

"You work it out." John had never seen Cameron sneer before, and it wasn't very attractive, even on her, "You're a big boy John."

"I just..." Looking up, the absurdity of his cyborg wife kicking him to the curb because he didn't want her assaulting his soldiers was finally landing, "Seriously? I'm riding the couch in the barracks because of this?"

Cameron's glare never let up, if anything growing more menacing by the second, his apparent lack of care for the things that were important to her making her feel worse. "You need to go, now."

"Come on Cameron, don't you think you're overreacting just a little?" John was getting desperate now, dreading the thought of trying to face his men under these kind of circumstances, "How am I supposed to explain this to everyone?"

"You're in charge, they'll obey you when you tell them to mind their own business." Instead of looking sympathetic in the least, his wife just stepped back and opened the door for him.

Slamming his feet back into his boots, not even bothering to lace them up, John started gathering up his laptop and the reams of paper littering his desk, "You need to get a handle on these anger issues, Cameron."

Letting slip a frustrated sigh, John headed for the door, "I don't have time to deal with this."

"I know, you have more 'important' things to do." The sneer was back, Cameron glowering petulantly as he passed, "You've made that quite clear. Thank you for explaining."

John just rolled his eyes at her little tirade, "I'll be in the barracks when you come to your senses and realize how stupid this is."

"Don't call me stupid!" Cameron nearly snapped the door handle while shoving the portal as far open as it could go.

Flinching back a little at her sudden outburst, as if for the first time suddenly realizing his beautiful wife could twist his head off like a child with a dandylion. "Cameron, you know I didn't mean it like..."

"OUT!" By this point she was practically screaming at him, unable to handle the rush of emotion at him declaring her desire to dance stupid. Of declaring her stupid, and childish, and every other thing her perfect memory kept replaying over and over on a horrible loop.

Connor found himself nodding slowly, not stupid enough to keep digging the hole, "Alright, I'm gone."

Snagging his jacket off the hook and shrugging into it, he picked up his laptop and stormed out the door, "We'll talk about this when you've calmed down."

His only answer was their bedroom door slamming so quickly it nearly clipped him in the back of his skull, and rattling most of the second story. Jogging down the steps as quickly as he could in unlaced boots, John caught sight of his mother making her way towards the staircase from the kitchen, obviously having heard the door slam upstairs, quirking a brow in John's direction, "You look like hell. What happened?"

Shaking his head in frustration, it was John's turn to growl as he stormed past Sarah and out onto the entryway, "Apparently, the honeymoon is over."

Making a beeline past the the gawking soldiers in the livingroom, John didn't wait for a response before he was out the door and on his way to the barracks, muttering to himself the entire way.


T.B.C

Sorry about the massive length between updates guys, I had a massive HD failure that took with it this chapter. Huge thanks to BigBew for his help in reconstructing what you see here, and rest assured I'm backing up my files on a flash drive and an online storage utility, so this shouldn't happen again.

As always, a huge thank you for everyone who has taken the time to leave a review, and I hope to hear your opinions on the new chapter.