I do not own Terminator: Rise of the Machines.

I am not in a machine apocalypse. From a certain point of view. ;)

Not A Church Youth Group Sleepover

John and Kate and Barnes

"Hey."

"Hey."

It's a mostly chance meeting in the hall outside the infirmary.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. You?"

Mostly.

"So, this is really . . ."

"Overwhelming?"

But he's finally stepped away from the comms for a moment, there's no one asking him questions about the machines or the ruination of the world or if there's any peanut butter on this side of the apocalypse or anything.

"Yeah."

"I mean, I'm glad they're here, I mean . . ."

And he's seen her and called out to her and now . . .

"Yeah. I know. Me too."

. . . he realizing he's not sure how to have a simple . . .

"How's Jericho?"

"Better. Stable."

. . . conversation with her anymore.

After such an upheaval to everything they've become, for better or worse, used to.

It's only been a handful of hours, not even a full day.

"Did you, uh, decontaminate? After, you know, . . ."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good."

But it seems like so much longer.

"Good, good."

And that kind of freaks him out a little.

He thinks about making contact, a kiss, a hug, literally anything, if only for a second and-

"Kate? He's awake."

And their moment is broken.

"Oh, uh, okay, thanks."

She turns back to John.

"I'm sorry, I gotta-"

He shoos her away.

"Yeah, no, go-"

And that's their big conversation.

Their big connection.

And he guesses . . .

Well, that sucked.

. . . that's something he's-

We're?

-going to have to figure out.

Eventually.

"Where . . . where are we?"

He's got his brother's eyes, even through the wooziness and the bloodshot tinge.

"Crystal Peak, in a fallout shelter. We're safe. I'm Kate Brewster. I'm the one who jammed a needle into your chest to help you breathe."

His pulse is good and his blood pressure . . .

"How do you feel?"

. . . is on the low end of the safe spectrum.

"Like someone jammed a needle into my chest."

And his droll response is hardly more than a dry-mouthed whisper.

"Sorry about that. You were kind of dying."

"'s okay."

But Kate takes it all as good signs . . .

If he's got the energy to be a smartass, he may have the energy to live.

. . . he may be on the mend.

"Hey," his brother chides softly from his side, hand gripping his, eyes brimming with poorly concealed relief and emotion. "I think the proper response is 'thank you, Doctor Brewster'. This badass woman saved your life, man."

Kate huffs, feeling herself color.

I'm just a veterinarian. Well, apprentice. I didn't even graduate yet.

"Please, it's just Kate."

But I'm not telling them that yet.

"I'm, uh, I'm not even a real doctor. Not really."

And there it is.

Jericho, having taken water and crackers before slipping back into healing-not-dying sleep, at least she hopes, lays restful between them.

Barnes, eyes previously fixed intently on his brother's still face, now move up to hers.

She wasn't going to tell him, wasn't going to tell anyone.

Except John, who already knows.

But now . . .

"I'm sorry. I felt like I was lying to you. Playing the hero or something."

And then, in an even more apologetic tone.

"I'm just a veterinarian. Apprentice, really. I didn't even graduate yet."

And never will now.

Thanks, Machines.

Barnes doesn't flinch, doesn't look offended, doesn't look away at all.

She realizes he has long, thick eyelashes and a spray of freckles across his nose as a long moment of silence stretches as he contemplates a dog-and-horse doctor fiddled around with his knocking-on-death's-door brother's life.

And then he speaks.

Quiet, set.

"Kate, can I call you Kate?"

She nods.

"Kate, you saved my big brother. The guy who's looked after me my whole life. You took that needle and jammed it in his chest and saved his life. He would have died without that. I would have never thought to do that. You are absolutely a hero in my book. And whatever you need, whatever you want from me, you've got it. One hundred percent. Alright?"

It's quite the speech and she finds there's a lump in her throat.

And she just doesn't . . .

"Um, well, thank you."

"No. Thank you."

. . . know what to say.

There's people here now and it's not just her and John anymore alone in a VIP fallout shelter.

It's men and women and kids and her and John in a VIP fallout shelter.

The Terminator had told her she would be John Conner's spouse.

The Terminator had told her she would be the mother of his children.

The Terminator had even told her when and how John would die and how she would proceed once that occurred.

What the Terminator hadn't told her was that she had any kind of choice at all or that there might be a long, winding road to get to all that, like in The Notebook or some other pre-apocalyptic movie that meant absolutely nothing in the post-apocalyptic machine world.

He, John, had kinda sorta proposed to her and married her and put a ring on her finger and she kinda sorta went along with it good-naturedly because, well, the world was over and she had been sleeping with him because he was a good guy and she did care about him and the two of them were all that was left and the Terminator said it was all destined anyway but now . . .

She turns the ring around on her finger, unconsciously playing with it, the silver circle thing that matches his, as she stares blankly at the entirety of the entire bridge of her life from birth to death.

It's not at all what she expected, not at all what she had been planning.

It's not that she wants anyone else besides John, it's not that there is anything else in the apocalypse at anyway.

Everything's gone and it's all pointless and the machines probably have all the Tindr and other dating apps shut down because she highly doubts they're using them, ha-

But she hasn't processed all this, especially not anything new in the past few hours and she still has moments where she's absolutely certain she'll wake up from this nightmare and still be a apprentice veterinarian and engaged and wishing salad tasted like cake.

And well, . . .

You know what? I think I just need a fucking nap.

Thanks to MadMikeE (yes, you are spot-on) and Guest (I know, I'm sorry but thanks for reading and reviewing) for taking time for the previous chapter! :)