Disclaimer: I of course…don't own any of The Terminator legend. The world and its characters belong to James Cameron and the Hollywood powers that be. I'm simply borrowing them for a while.

Author's note: I know I haven't updated this in a while and I have probably lost many of my regular readers on this one. To be honest, I don't know that I will be going all the way through to John sending Reese back as I had originally planned anytime soon, but allow me for the time being at least, to leave you with this final tag. The end, if you will, to the second chapter of John Connor's life. I hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed writing.

T4-Connor's War

Chapter 9

When he rounded the corner to her room, he hadn't expected Doc Mitchell to be there. At John's urging, Doc often retired earlier than most in order to be alert and ready if and when casualties came in. But there he was, standing over her cot, murmuring.

The movement caught his eye and he looked up, pausing at the admittedly surprising sight of John Connor at Kate's door. John watched the good doctor suppress a grin before patting Kate's hand and circling around the cot. As he approached, John straightened up, "Problem?"

Mitchell looked back at her, "Complained of some abdominal pain, but it's nothing serious. More of the same bruises trying to heal."

John nodded, still watching the girl, her head turned away from them. "Thanks."

Mitchell hesitated for a moment, "Do you…are you here to see me?"

John cast a sideways glance, his eyes challenging…as if daring Mitchell to remind him of their conversation that morning. "No," he said finally. And with that, the doctor was gone.

He left John still standing in the doorway, leaning against its frame. He knew she was awake. But a part of him felt quite content in the simple act of watching her rest. And perhaps it was this very realization that moved him finally into the room.

"Kate?" he whispered, circling round to the small stool on the other side. She watched, her hazel eyes already moist and hesitant as he sat down beside her. It was a few more moments before either of them spoke. After a time, it was Kate who broke the ice.

"Took you long enough, soldier," she said quietly, a small slow grin tugging at her mouth.

He looked down, rubbing his hands together. "Sorry," he mumbled. It was frustrating to say the least. A lifetime of preparation and John Connor suddenly found himself without plan or agenda, at a complete loss for words.

But it was Kate. She didn't need them. "How are they?" she offered.

It worked. "Strong," he said. "Took down 2 HKs this morning. Got a rhythm going."

"Ammo?"

John winced, "Low. And no luck with Mickey's search. They lost most of what they found in their escape."

Kate closed her eyes, the sheer idea of a machine imitating a human child was sickening enough. She could just imagine how Jo had reacted. "Doc told me about the T-9," she said.

John looked up. "I'm sorry."

"John, I have to know when something like that happens-"

"No," he cut-in. He looked down at her crushed leg, cast with makeshift, half-ass 1950's bandages. "I'm sorry."

Kate understood. "It wasn't your fault," she whispered.

"I went back for Seth."

"Of course you did."

"Didn't follow my instincts. I already knew he was gone."

Kate laced her fingers through his, clasped against the edge of the cot. "Of course you did."

He looked back at her, his eyes heavy and dim, "And you got hurt."

Kate sighed, using her free hand to hoist herself up in bed just a little further. "We're at war," she reminded him, almost as if he'd really forgotten. "It's going to happen."

John squeezed her hand, "It can't happen to you."

She frowned, "John-"

"I need you, Kate."

Kate paused, her breath hitched in her throat and something tight pulled at her stomach. John never was one for idle conversation. The reality of their present. The veracity of their future. Everything she always knew to be true about the Terminator's prophecy, their life together, all suddenly staring right at her through a pair of stone-gray eyes, hardened by war but soft enough still for just one person. Kate could barely breathe.

"I've lived my whole life alone," he went on, both hands now clasped around hers. "And that was always s'posed to be good enough. But I don't think I can do it anymore." His eyes started to sting as he leaned forward, "I can't fight machines if I don't feel human."

Her tears came first, and she managed to whisper his name amidst the tidal wave of emotions that came with this declaration.

"You…you make me feel human, Kate," he finished, his voice breaking. And it was a few moments before he realized he was crying too. For the first time since Judgment Day, John Connor cried. And his tears spilled full and free as he brushed hers away with the pad of his thumb, resting his hand beneath her chin and kissed her.

It had been so long since either had felt any real joy, that Kate barely recognized it as she curled her fingers through his hair. For her, it was so much more than a kiss. It was a vow. In it, she was finally certain…they would win. They would defeat the machines. And their fate wouldn't be left merely to destiny or chance. It was decision. One they made together…

…Sarah Connor had been right after all.