Never known for her patience, Sarah stood up immediately when Weaver entered her office. The T-1000 didn't look surprised by Sarah's presence, but then Sarah was fully aware Weaver, like many terminators, didn't always express emotions correctly.
"Good morning, Sarah."
"What's going on?"
Weaver sat first her purse and then her carry bag on the wood desk before answering.
"You'll need to elaborate a bit more, Sarah."
"Ruth has been feeling terrible for a week."
"I know, poor thing," Weaver commented in her typically cold fashion.
"I'll ask you again, what's going on?"
This time, Weaver successfully applied the correct facial expression, one of irritation at being hounded by Sarah.
"I have no idea. Ask, Ruth."
"All my daughter will tell me is she doesn't feel well. Now tell me what is going on! Does Ruth have matrix disease?"
"No, not that I know of," Weaver replied, her frown changing to one of concern. "Has Ruth had trouble maintaining her preferred form?"
"No, she's just in pain and feels awful. You're a T-1000, Weaver. What's wrong with my daughter!"
Ignoring Sarah's persistent demand for information, Weaver sat down at her desk and removed her tablet and several files from her carry bag before placing it on the floor beneath her desk.
Growing angrier by the second, Sarah walked over to Weaver's desk, placed both hands on the edge and leaned over to glower at the petite metal.
"Tell me what is wrong with my daughter!"
Weaver's eyes shot upwards and fixed on Sarah. With all the coldness Weaver could muster, she replied. "You should take this up with Savannah, though I am confident my daughter will not violate patient-doctor confidentiality. Savannah is quite professional and takes her ethical responsibilities serious."
"No thanks to you," Sarah grumbled.
"No, the credit must go to our dear friend, Mr. Ellison. Now, seriously, Sarah. Take the matter up with Ruth or Savannah."
The T-1000 disengaged from the staring contest and began the process of organizing her work for another grueling day as Weaver as the City Administrator. Realizing the stubborn, unreasonable, aspect of her terminator personality had engaged fully, Weaver had brushed Sarah off as politely as was possible to the T-1000. Determined to get answers to her questions, Sarah stormed off without another word.
Waiting for Sarah to completely vanish from her department's work areas, Weaver worked the TechCom leaderships communication system.
"General, your mother just left. She's in a bit of a tizzy about Ruth. I just thought I would warn you.
It had been just over two weeks since Cameron had returned from the long patrol that had scouted the Skynet activity at Denver. A lot had happened in those two weeks. Life changing things had happened and John wanted to shield his family.
This just wasn't one of those things that could be kept quiet, no matter how badly John wanted to delay it. He could hear with ease the passage of his mother through his headquarters, hurriedly making his way towards his office.
Like Weaver, John worked the communications system and waited for a response.
"Yes, General?"
"Have my sister report to my office."
"Yes, General."
Hoping to buy time, John went back to peering at the map display on his desk as he waited for Sarah to storm into his office.
"John!"
"Please knock before entering my office," John said tersely without looking up.
It was all he could do not to laugh as Sarah pounded on the open door of his office three times before shouting, "General Connor, permission requested to enter!"
"Permission granted," he replied, enjoying toying with his mother.
"What is wrong with Ruth? I can't get an answer from anyone! Weaver knows something but won't tell me a word. Savannah is hiding behind that doctor patient confidentiality crap, and all I can get out of Ruth is she feels awful!"
John didn't look up from his map display. The inevitable confrontation he and his sister both had hoped to delay as long as possible had now arrived.
"John, answer me!"
Giving into the inevitable, John looked up at Sarah, cleared his throat, and addressed her with his General Connor voice. "Sit down and wait. I've summoned Ruth."
Realizing that was all she was going to get out of John as a response, Sarah sat down, fuming mad at her son and everyone else who had frustrated her efforts to learn what was wrong with her daughter.
Ten minutes passed before a timid knock sounded on John's door.
"General Connor, permission requested to enter."
John looked up at his little sister. If he didn't know Ruth was a T-1000 he would have sworn her face was a shade of green from nausea.
"Permission granted. Take a seat, Lt. Guderian."
Ruth sat down in a couch against the far wall of John's office and looked back and forth between John and Sarah.
"What is wrong with you, Ruth! You answer me right now!"
Looking at John for some sign of support, Ruth found none in her brother's expression.
"It's time, Ruth," was all John had to say.
"I don't feel good, Mom," Ruth finally mumbled.
"I know that much," Sarah snapped. "You are worrying your father and I sick by not telling us what is wrong with you!"
Frustrated by the invasion of her privacy and the knowledge that Sarah not give up until Ruth explained the reason for her feeling ill.
"Mom, you can figure it out," Ruth finally informed her mother.
"Hardly," was Sarah's retort. "I'm human and you're a T-1000. We have different health issues."
Running her hand over her lower abdomen, Ruth could stop the snide remark from escaping her lips.
"Well, gee, Mom. I feel sick all the time. It's worse in the mornings. I wish I could throw up like a human female, and my Dan is not going to touch me until this passes."
Silence filled the room as Sarah considered Ruth's response.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Sarah glared at John. "Why weren't Derek and I informed? This was a matter for the leadership council!"
"No, it wasn't," John barked. "It was decided long ago we needed more T-1000s! Weaver cannot safely carry one so that leaves Ruth!"
Unabashed, Sarah turned her attention back to Ruth. "Why didn't you tell me, baby girl?"
Ruth looked at John who returned her look with a sad smile and nodded.
"Because my Dan and I wanted to wait."
"Why? Did Derek and I do something?"
"No, Mom," Ruth cried, bursting into tears. "I lost our first baby, a little boy, and we just wanted to wait until we knew I would be able to carry this baby to term."
Sarah covered her mouth with her hand as she came to her feet and hurried to her daughter. "Ruth, baby, you should have told me you miscarried!"
"Oh, Mom, it was horrible," Ruth wailed, causing John to wince. Not wishing to be party to what was going to be a long and emotionally draining exchange between his sister and his mother, John silently left his office, closing the door behind him.
"Sarah knows."
"Yep, the cat's out of the bag," John replied.
"That is a strange expression that I have never understood," Cameron replied, tilting her head. "Why would anyone want to put a domestic feline in a sack?"
"Brace yourself is all I have to say."
"I know. Sarah will be most displeased she was never informed."
"It was none of her business. I understand why Ruth and Dan wanted privacy."
With great sadness, John watched his wife run her hand over her own lower abdomen, knowing she would never say a word, but that she envied Ruth her grief. In Cameron's twisted terminator logic, a miscarriage represented opportunity. As horrible as it was, and John knew Cameron was sad for Ruth in her own way, there was a sadness in Cameron he'd not seen in a long time. A sadness he'd not recognized for what it was.
Before Hailey had come into their lives.
Ruth could give birth, in a way, and Cameron could not.
Setting his reading glasses on his night stand, John turned the table lamp off and stretched out. He waited for Cameron to recline in her usual position, resting her head on his shoulder. As Cameron lay quietly, John ran his fingers up and down her back, lightly scratching. Cameron clung to him, not saying a word.
She would not patrol tonight, instead lying next to her husband, wishing their nest wasn't empty.