Chapter 2

When I was a boy, my mother told me stories of machines that would one day destroy the earth. She would tuck me in bed at night, kiss me on the head and say- "Don't worry. I will protect you. And then someday, when you're a man, you will protect everyone else."

I never knew what it meant to live a normal life, free from the influence of Skynet. Every moment of my existence was burdened with purpose. Everyday was another lesson, as my mother taught me to survive. To hide. To lead.

But as I face that world without her, the world she trained me for as a child, I can only pray that I am ready. That I can survive long enough to make it back to our time. That I'll be able to protect anyone…


10 HOURS AGO

Sarah slammed the door of the motel room behind her as she carried out the last of the items her son had left behind. She checked her watch- 5:50 - Ellison should be back with Savannah any minute and then the four of them would be off to regroup.

Rounding the base of the steel staircase, Sarah spotted Murch, fidgeting and nervous, but still standing right where she had left him. He stuck out like a sore thumb. A nicely dressed bald nerd sweating profusely in the early June heat, standing on the sidewalk outside a shady motel. If he wanted to stay with them, he would have to learn how to blend in better.

"Here. Last one." Sarah slung the duffle bag off her shoulder and tossed it to the unsuspecting techie. It hit him square in the chest, eliciting a winded 'oof'. "Put it in the trunk with the others."

Murch looked like he wanted to argue, and was clearly struggling under the weight of whatever was in the bag, and Sarah was not the person he wanted to piss off at the moment. With a sigh he gave in, and trudged back to the trunk of his vehicle.

When the trio had been leaving ZeiraCorp they had decided- much to Matt's displeasure- that it would be best for Ellison to leave in his vehicle to pick Savannah up from gymnastics, and for Sarah to take Murch's BMW to make sure there was nothing left behind by John and Cameron. He opened the trunk and cringed again. There she was again, the lifeless chassis of that machine girl, her red eye socket staring up at him. It was creepy. He quickly tossed the last bag in and slammed the lid shut.

A black SUV pulled in off the busy LA street. It only took a second for Sarah to recognize the vehicle as James Ellison's car. It pulled in next to where Sarah was leaning against the side of Murch's commandeered car. The tinted driver side window rolled down revealing a troubled looking Ellison.

"Hi Sarah!" A sweet little voice piped from the seat beside him. Sarah had to lean a little to see the girl past the large man. Her red hair was up in a high ponytail and she was wearing a pink tracksuit, a massive grin on her freckled face.

Smiling softly, Sarah raised a hand in a wave back at the little girl. "Hi sweetie."

"Sarah." James started, tense. "Are you ready to go?" His eyes glanced all around, from her to Murch returning from the trunk.

"Yeah." Sarah pushed off of the car door where she had been leaning and took a step closer to James so they could converse more clearly. "Where to though? We can't go back to my house. That place will be crawling with cops." She glanced over at Savannah who was contentedly watching, stroking her stuffed giraffe. "We can't exactly take her home either."

"I know… We need to talk about that actually-"

"When will we go see mommy?" Savannah had finally perked up at the word home.

Sarah and Ellison stared at each other for a split second, in a silent standoff. Somebody had to say something, but they both knew it wasn't time for the truth, and neither of them were eager to lie.

"Don't you worry about that, okay sweetie? Your mommy had to go away for a bit but she asked me and Mr. Ellison to take care of you. Is that alright?" Sarah finally mustered an answer. She was a mom after all, she knew what it was like dealing with little kids, even though it had been years since John had been quite that small.

Savannah's face fell a little at the news her mommy had suddenly left, but she nodded.

"You're a very brave girl." It made her feel a little guilty to be praising the child for the very same behaviors that would have gotten her kidnapped under different circumstances. But in a way, she was being kidnapped, just for her own good.

"So what now?" The skinny form of Matt Murch came to stand next to Sarah. Behind his glasses, his eyes were squinting against the afternoon sun. "I assume you two have a plan, right?"

A flash of annoyance passed through Sarah, but then a thought occurred to her. She locked eyes with Ellison and it seemed they had the same idea. "Of course." James supplemented.

"Get in." Sarah opened the passenger side door with a forced pleasant smile.

"What?" Murch recoiled, offended. "But that's my car! Shouldn't I be the one driving?"

She narrowed her eyes but didn't respond until she was settled in the driver seat, seat belt buckled and engine started. "Not while I'm here."

Reluctantly, the dejected man climbed into the vehicle and buckled in himself. Turning the key over in the ignition, Sarah started the engine.

"Now, how do we get to your house?"

Savannah was upstairs having peanut butter sandwiches with Mr. Murch while Sarah Connor and James Ellison held a powwow in the basement. Previously it had just been an unfinished space Matt used to store his extra computer parts and boxes of old stuff from his mother. Currently, it had been transformed into a meager armory by the two former enemies.

The concrete floor now had an small array of disassembled firearms lined up on it, in addition to a small pack of explosives. Honestly, it was disgraceful in Sarah's opinion. She hadn't had a collection this small since she was pregnant. Two shot guns, one rifle, and four pistols.

"There's no way we can beat Kaliba with this." She gestured to the small stockpile. "We'll need to find more."

"Where, Sarah?" James groaned from where he sat on a folding metal chair, cleaning his Glock with a rag. "You're more of a fugitive than you've ever been. And also… what do you mean by we?" This caught her attention. He stared her in the eye, with the utmost seriousness. "I didn't agree to anything."

"Like hell you didn't." Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I'm a free man, Sarah! My name was cleared." He rose from his seat, a hand on his chest. "I can walk out the front door and go back to my life if I want."

"Yeah? And why the hell would you want that?" Sarah threw down the rag she had been using on the ground and tucked her 9mm back in her pants. She glared daggers at him. It was hard to tell if she was about to cry or shoot him. "What life do you even have to go back to, Ellison? You don't have a job anymore. The damn machines left us behind to clean up their mess."

She gestured to the wooden staircase. "There's a little girl up there with no one to take care of her now. She's been an orphan for a year and no one even knew. Who's going to look after her now?"

Sarah took a pause, watching him realize the truth in everything she had just said. "And besides… You know too much. You're a True Believer. You wouldn't even be here if that wasn't true. I know you, Agent. You won't just sit by and watch the world burn."

He was less shocked than he would have expected. Somehow being told that his entire life had been pulled out from under him like a rug wasn't as earth shattering as it should have been. Probably because deep down, he already knew it. "... You can call me James."

"Fine." Sarah conceded. "But you know I'm right, James. That's why I didn't need to ask."

"What about Savannah?" A shocked light lit Ellison's dark brown eyes. "She's just a child, Sarah. We can't take her with us, get her involved in all of this. She needs to be in school- not running from the authorities."

"There are already Terminators out there looking for her. I don't know why- Derek had never heard of her- but he died for her. You think she's safe without us?"

"It's kidnapping…"

"Wouldn't be the first time I've had to do that to protect someone."

A silence fell between them. They both knew she was right. That didn't make it any easier to stomach. But the matter was pretty well settled. No matter where she went there was a chance that Kaliba would find her. As slim as it was, the young Miss Weaver would have her best chance if she stuck with them.

"And Murch? What do you intend to do with him?" James returned to his seat and his Glock.

"Not sure." Sarah had moved on to cleaning her Remington shotgun. "He's not on the law's radar. He could step away and possibly be fine. But I don't know what information Kaliba had on the ZeiraCorp project."

"He could be a target." Ellison agreed. "He was a lead on the Babylon project. He worked with John Henry more than just about anyone else. If anything, I think he deserves to know what's going on," he let out a sigh, "and to decide what he wants to do for himself."

Sarah nodded reluctantly. She finished up with the gun, made sure everything was in place, then replaced it in the deadly line up on the floor. Ellison made his way up the creaking wooden stairs first and Sarah followed behind the large man. At the base of the stairs she stopped, turning her eye to the little nook beside the stairs to her left.

There she was. The crumpled and unanimated body of Cameron had been dropped there by Sarah and Ellison when they had entered the basement.

The robot girl had never shown much emotion- Sarah was still convinced she was incapable of feeling any at all- but now her face was frozen in an even more placid and blank expression than before. The skin on her face was still torn and she was still bloody all over. No one had taken the time to clean her up. There hadn't been much point. There wouldn't be any point soon enough.

The dead red eye stared at Sarah from the exposed metal socket.

"I'll be back for you soon, Tin Miss." She let the threat hang in the air behind her as she stalked up the steps and left the broken machine in the empty basement.


John sat across the metal table from the stern face of his uncle, Derek Reese. The interrogation chamber was a windowless concrete room, dark and dank. A single caged bulb hung from the ceiling above the cold table. Guarding the door behind him was Kyle and another man they only referred to as "Damian." John recognized him as one of the men with Derek's squad from when John arrived.

"So." The scruffy man leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him. "Who are you? Really. And how'd you know my name?"

"I'm… John Connor, I told you." His tone was as even as his nerves would allow, and he tried to keep his eyes from flicking all over. Never show weakness in a hostile environment. His mother's training looped in his head. "And I'm…"

Your nephew? From the past? The future savior of mankind? The leader of a nonexistent resistance? "Nobody... I guess."

He gave a hint of a shrug. What else could he say? He already knew that they didn't know about time travel. Saying he was from the past would be bad enough, but telling him the whole truth could be even worse.

"Nobody." Derek repeated. His face was unchanged and his tone was tensely controlled. "You expect me to believe that?"

John was silent. He needed to think of something fast, but his exhaustion was finally catching up to him. It was getting harder and harder to think of anything other than the fact that his uncle, alive and breathing, was sitting across from him. And that there was no way he could understand that.

"Let's think back through this, shall we?" Derek pushed off the table and began to pace in front of the back wall. "You show up in no man's land, right at the meet point for two of our patrols, wearing my brother's coat." He raised his eyes to glance pointedly at Kyle. "And nothing else. And then..." he stretched his hands out on the table, leaning well over it to come almost face to face with John.

"You look me in the face like someone who knows me." Derek let his words hang in the air between them. "Like- you were relieved to see me or somethin'."

John didn't know what to say. The lieutenant's eyes stayed laser-focused on his, expectant. "I was… Look, it's complicated."

"Then uncomplicate it for me."

John could tell that Derek's patience was running thin. Behind John's back he heard Kyle and Damian shifting nervously. His head was spinning and his mouth felt dry. He was backed into a proverbial corner. At this point, it was more important that John say something just to keep himself from seeming like a grey, not sound sane. Giving a sigh, he took the plunge.

"Listen… This is going to sound crazy, but it's the truth, and I need you to believe me." Even John was surprised at how sincere and desperate he sounded. Even if this wasn't the same Derek he had come to be family with, he still trusted him deeply. There were some things about Derek Reese that would always be the same. And John needed his help right now. "I'm from the past. 2008 specifically."

Nobody said anything. Nobody moved. The silence was so complete they could have heard a pin drop. But then a snort came from behind. Damien couldn't hold it together anymore and he began to laugh out loud. John turned to see the commotion.

"I'm sorry!" He responded, still chorteling to Derek's glare. "That's just- gotta be one of the most mental things I've heard in a long time. And I fight killer robots for Christ's sake!"

John glanced over at Kyle. His father wasn't laughing. He seemed more troubled than anything else. John returned to Derek just to see a matching somber bothered look. Either the Reese brothers weren't a fan of comedy, or that statement meant something more to them than John had anticipated.

"I'm not joking." John protested. Damien tried to get himself under control, but the moisture in the corners of his eyes wasn't a good sign. Derek's jaw flexed in frustration, arms crossed.

"If you can't control yourself, Private, I suggest you wait outside." The commanding officer's serious tone was enough to finally sober the soldier up. He stood up straight, eyes forward, but clearly that wasn't what Derek had wanted. With a jut of his chin, he indicated to the Private that he should actually use the door. Damien gave a nod, and quickly saw himself out.

Now it was just the Reese boys and John alone in the small dark concrete room. John was trying not to hold his breath, as he waited anxious for their reactions. Derek sat back down in his chair and raked a hand over his face, looking tired as all hell.

"You said your name is John Connor, and you're from 2008… How do you explain that? Time travel, I mean."

John took a deep breath. Honesty was the best policy it seemed, but he would still have to be careful not to say too much. No one could be trusted with knowledge he had about these brothers, and he doubted they would take very kindly to hearing the messiah speech.

"In 2007, the future Resistance sent you back in time on a mission." Derek's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and John continued on quickly. "You weren't the first." A shiver ran through John as he resisted the urge to look back at Kyle. "And you weren't the last."

"In the future you came from, Skynet was losing." That caught their attention. Kyle began to creep up to the side of the table, wanting a better view of the outlandish story. "So they developed a TDE, a- uh- Time Displacement Equipment- so that they could send Terminators back through time to defeat us in the past. They sent machine's designed to hunt and kill to eliminate future threats to Skynet.

Apparently, in the future The Resistance stole some of these devices so that we could send back some of our own to protect the people Skynet was targeting. You were one of those people that got sent back."

"Okay, great. But what does that have to do with you? Also-" Derek gave an acrid snort. "I live in the 'future' and I can damn well tell you that Skynet isn't losing anything."

John shook his head. "That's the problem. Something- something went wrong. I used the TDE to jump here following someone, and when I got here," he made a pained expression, "everything was wrong. It isn't supposed to be this way."

The brothers exchanged a look. "So that's why you expected me to know who you were." Derek seemed to be following, but he didn't look entirely convinced. John nodded in agreement.

"Is that the man you asked us about? The one that took your friend. He's the one you followed?" Kyle joined in the conversation now.

"He's called John Henry." John explained. He knew that he had to be careful with this topic. In this future no one was reprogramming the machines. If he told them he had just come across time to find her chip, there was no telling what they would do. "I don't know if he actually took her, or if she went with him. But either way. She's missing and if I find him, I'll find her."

"What's so special about this friend of yours? Must be pretty important if you're willing to travel through time to find her." Derek leaned back away from the table and watched John's face like a hawk. He had no idea if there was any truth to the kid's story, but he intended to find out.

A smirk tugged at the corner of John's mouth for a moment. His Derek would have probably asked something pretty similar, although for every different reasons he was sure. Because he had known who they all really were. John's eyes cast down to the table for a second as he tried to find an answer to the exact same question that had plagued him ever since he had jumped. Why?

"Her name is Cameron. And I- I just." He looked back up to each of the brothers in turn. "I need her." It wasn't that John had meant it to sound that much like a challenge, it must have just become habit at this point. It had a whole year of having to defend Cameron to everyone- even from himself, if he was being honest. But he could never pinpoint the reason why. Why he cared so much. Or maybe he just didn't want to. "She helps us fight Skynet in the past."

John watched as his not-uncle and not-father had a silent debate. They both seemed skeptical, but Derek a little more so. "Why were you wearing his coat though? You know– and nothing else."

"The TDE only transports living tissue. Or things completely covered by it. That's why clothes don't go through with you."

"You seem to know a lot about this." Kyle leaned against the wall for support seeing as there weren't any other chairs in the repurposed maintenance closet.

"I wish I could say this was my first time…" John rubbed his eye and temple with his right hand. He'd already dug his whole, might as well light it on fire too. "But we actually jumped from '99 to 2007 first."

"Oh yeah. Sure! And the machines are actually friendly." It seemed that had been a touch too far for Derek. He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. Kyle shot him a disapproving look.

"Listen- I get it. It sounds insane. But I'm telling the truth. And honestly, it doesn't matter to me if you believe me or not." John had no patience to play around anymore. Either the Reese brothers were going to help him out or they could just let him go and look for Cameron alone. "I don't know anything about this version of the future, what it's like, and I have no connections or resources. I need your help to find my friend. And I promise that if you help us, we'll go back to the past and make sure to fix things- maybe even keep Judgement day from happening all together."

This got their attention. They both seemed to tense up, both taken aback by the gravity of John's tone and enticed by a vision of a world untouched by Skynet.

"But… If you still don't believe me, or won't help me. Fine. I'll do it myself. Just let me go." John finished. A strange confident calm settled over John. He'd said his peace and he'd meant every word. He had given them two options, even though if he'd thought about it he would have realized he really was in no place to be giving any demands. It felt similar to how he had felt when he confronted Jesse. Even if he hadn't built the resistance yet, even if he hadn't seen Judgement Day yet, he was still John Connor, and these were still his soldiers.

Neither of the brothers responded, and the boy leaned back in his chair waiting for their answer. Somehow this interrogation had flipped around now suddenly they were the ones in the hot seat. Whoever this John Connor was, he meant business. Two hours ago he had just seemed like a scared boy, but now… The young man sitting in front of them carried the weight of an experienced soldier.

Kyle was looking at John with a look he couldn't really name. It didn't exactly unsettle him, but he had no idea what to make of it. Derek, on the other hand, was making a familiar expression that made John's heart twinge a little. It was the same kind of face his uncle would make whenever John was being a punk. Or when he was proud. Maybe a bit of both.

"You talk big for being so young." Anyone who didn't know Derek would have just taken his words as an admonishment, but John saw the slight smirk on his face. This was a begrudging compliment. "Aright kid. We'll help you find your friend."

John fought back a smile. It was unbelievable, but it seemed like the lieutenant liked him. For now. The older man stretched a little, taking a deep chest full of air and leaned onto the table towards John once more. "On one condition."

"What condition?" John narrowed his eyes, suddenly taken off guard. What sort of conditions could this man be thinking of putting on John?

"I'll tell you when we find your friend." Derek stated. He was smug, and it was killing John. One second he was being cooperative, and the next he was out here adding conditions that he wouldn't even explain. John would have no idea what he was agreeing to, but did he really have a choice?

"Fine." He gritted out, controlling his breathing. It took everything in him not to glare at the man in front of him.

"Good!" Derek bounced his eyebrows, and stood up from his seat. "You'll go out with Recon Seven at sun down." As he crossed to the exit, the bearded man pointed first at John and then quickly to his brother. "He's still your problem."

The younger brother still leaning against the far wall nodded, even though he looked like he wanted to say something snarky.

Derek rapped on the metal door with the back of his hand in a pattern. A moment later the bolt outside was undone and the door creaked open. Before he stepped out, he turned back to John. He glanced between his brother and the new kid one more time. It really was uncanny…

"Oh, and next time, kid," Here came the correction. "Don't push it."

John bit his tongue and nodded back. He'd pushed his luck far enough for one evening. Behind the large man's exit the metal door clanged shut again, but remained unlocked.

"Seems like we're stuck together." The voice across the room drew his attention back to the one place he had been avoiding ever since he'd gotten not six feet from him was Kyle Reese. John's Father.

It wasn't like John had recognized him right away when they had first met- he had never had any pictures of his father growing up. All he'd really had to go off of was his mother's rare story, Derek, his own face, and years of imagining. Somehow he'd ended up being nothing like John had pictured as a boy, but it also it made perfect sense. The second he'd come into view in the tunnel, John just knew.

A well of conflicting emotions roiled inside John. His father had died before he was even born. John always knew that he would never know that man. At least not as his father. Derek had told him that he would know Kyle as a young man, be close even, but he would have always been many years younger than John. They would never be able to be family.

This Kyle though was older than John. He seemed to be about 25, which meant he had probably looked much like this when Sarah had known him. He was youthful, slightly shorter than Derek, athletic… And staring at John. He was making that same strange expression as before.

"Yeah." John tried for a half smile. "Seems like it."

After the interrogation John had been escorted to the barracks, which was really just an interconnected set of parallel tunnels partitioned and lined with cots. They didn't really seem like the kind of people that would have extra stuff laying around, but 'luckily' for John there had been a recent vacancy. There were some people his age, he knew, would be freaked out by the concept of sleeping in a dead guy's cot, but John had spent enough of his life using dead guys' identities to really be too bothered over a cot on the ground.

Kyle had left him with a fresh blanket and a canteen of water. The cot next to John's was empty at the moment- its occupant must have been one of the night guards- but a few of the man's belongings were left behind. An extra pair of boots, a luxury it would seem, a razor and mirror, and a small picture frame tucked against the curved wall.

John reached over and gently turned the picture frame to face him. Inside was an old family photo, the kind John had seen from the other kids when he was just starting highschool. A mother and father stood with three children. The man had a large brown mustache and the woman wore way too much eyeshadow, but they looked happy. The three kids, two boys and a girl, looked like they would rather be anywhere else. The entire family was wearing matching baby blue shirts.

Just as John was going to return the frame to its proper place, the picture inside shifted, and he saw underneath the corner of another picture. A young woman, not in the other picture. A wave of guilt washed over John as he realized that he had probably seen something he shouldn't have. Well, he shouldn't have even been snooping in the first place. Quickly as he could, hands fumbling from exhaustion, he put the top picture back in its proper place and set it back where he had found it.

Laying on his back now he stared at the curvature of the grey concrete ceiling. The strings of lights hadn't continued in this way, apparently making room for the darkness to sleep, but somewhere nearby in the interconnected tunnels a fire burned. A soft yellow light danced on the ceiling. It was a comforting sight, somehow.

It was so late into the night it would be morning soon. Apparently that wasn't too big a deal down here since people's schedules were all around the clock. John remembered how his uncle had told him that the surface wasn't safe during the day, but they could come out at night sometimes, under the cover of darkness. John's sleepy mind decided that when he ran things there would be more order concerning when "day" and "night" were practically.

If he ever got to run things, that was. He really had screwed things up big time. As if finding himself in a dying future like this one wasn't enough of a problem, he now had the whole time-limit thing to worry about. Weaver wouldn't bat an eye if they happened to find them too late. As long as her precious John Henry was safe, the Cameron would just be collateral damage. John wasn't willing to let that happen.

No matter how hard John tried to hide it from himself and everyone else, he cared about her. His mind flicked back to the last moment he had spent alone with Cameron. She had wanted to show him her power core. To make sure it wasn't compromised… he guessed. It had to have had something to do with the wild accusations he had made against her. John had just been so mad and worried about the possibility of his mom having cancer, he was being unfair.

Cameron had been so close. They had been so close, just the day before. John couldn't even believe that had only been yesterday. Before everything had fallen apart.

He had been doubting, questioning, lately so many of the assumptions he had previously held about Cameron, just within the last few days. And then she'd gone and… John tried to shake the memory out of his head. There was too much there. He needed to ask her so many things.

And then she'd been kidnapped. Or more like gotten herself kidnapped, if what Weaver said was true. Why on Earth would she have ever willingly handed over her chip? He couldn't understand. There had been so much about Cameron lately that he couldn't understand.

In some ways, he didn't care. He was confused now more than ever about her, how she saw things. What she could feel… But it didn't matter.

It didn't matter to John what she could or couldn't feel. Right now it didn't even matter what he felt. All he knew was that he wouldn't be able to rest until she was back at his side where she belonged. He would find her. He had to.

Slowly, John fell into an uneasy sleep, the events of the last 36 hours looping in his head.


Sarah shut the door behind her as softly as she could. She had just put Savannah to bed with a little Wizard of Oz as a bedtime story. That story was starting to get a little old, all things considered, but it was also the only one Sarah had memorized. Walking back into the kitchen she caught the end of Ellison's summarization of the situation for Mr. Murch.

"What?" Murch dropped his spoon into his bowl of tomato soup. Magnified eyes blinked quickly, mind racing. "That's impossible…!" He forced a laugh out. "Machines would never be able to…" He trailed off. "They wouldn't! Artificial intelligence could never…"

Every time the computer scientist thought of an objection he quickly remembered all the work he had been doing with the Babylon AI. John Henry continuously surprised him and their entire time at his performance and apparent evolution. His ability to acquire and absorb information was thrilling, if not frightening. It had even demonstrated an ability to change it's mind and to apply new rules to himself. Such a form of self-governess combined with his apparent self-awareness had opened the proverbial black box of artificial intelligence. In truth, at this point Murch had no idea what was and wasn't possible.

"But what about the time travel? How is that even possible? No one has even gotten close to being able to implement the theories of Relativity yet…."

"Theories don't matter." Sarah pulled up a chair and straddled it, arms resting on the back. "I've done it myself."

"Sarah is right. Do you remember the reports on the news of Sarah Connor and her son blowing up a bank with themselves inside?" Ellison continued explaining. Murch nodded slightly. "It threw me off her case for years. Then suddenly she and John show back up five years later, not having aged a day."

"I can't believe this…" Murch trailed off, staring into space.

"I know. It can take some time-" James

"We don't have any time. Sorry." Sarah cut in again, impatient. "We have to move soon. The feds are already out for me, and it won't be long before people are looking for Savannah too. The first day she misses school and they can't contact a guardian they'll know something's up. We're leaving before dawn one way or another. You can come with us and help fight this if you want. But if you aren't committed, it would be better if you forgot we were ever here."

Murch swallowed, and licked his lips. He'd never been the action hero type, but he didn't see any other way out of this situation. Also, if Weaver was a machine and had left for the future, he was pretty much without a job.

"We're not going to force you to do anything, Matt. But we could certainly use someone with skills like yours. Neither of us know much of anything about computers. And when John Henry comes back I'm sure we'll need your expertise again."

"Will I have to use a gun? I've never used one of those before."

The nerd's pitiful tone almost made Sarah laugh. "Only if you don't want to die."

"Sarah." James hissed at the woman, giving her a warning side eye. "Don't worry Matt. We can teach you. If you choose to join us, that is."

She rolled her eyes. Sarah didn't see any point in sugar coating anything anymore. There wasn't time for softness. Eventually, maybe, but these next few days would determine whether there would be any war to fight at all.

Her eyebrow twitched as she mulled over this change in sentiment. Used to be, this was the kind of stuff she would snap at Cameron for, but now here she was the one being chastised. When had Sarah become so insensitive?

"Why don't you sleep on it?" Ellison provided a compromise to the apprehensive man.

Murch nodded in response. He was clammy and pale, and was thoroughly in need of some rest and time to process everything he'd just been told.

The wooden staircase shook and creaked as Sarah Connor stormed into the basement with renewed purpose. Cameron's shell rocked slightly, propped up against the stairs as it was. The hesitant steps of James Ellison came slower behind, a calmer more concerned presence in the room. He stopped in the middle of the rough wooden stairs to watch the other tumultuous force in the room.

Cameron sat quietly in her corner.

He watched as Sarah made a b-line to the mini fridge, pulled out a can of beer, popped the top, and began to inhale it's contents. It was hard for James to say that he had ever seen Sarah so anxious before. The rage was normal, that he could handle. Sarah always had an air of murder about her, but this was the first time he could recall seeing her looking so out of control.

It didn't suit her.

"Ah..!" Sarah put down the can and cracked her neck. Alcohol wasn't something she turned to often- it was too prone to dull the senses- but she would take anything at this point. Her nerves could take a little dulling.

That's when it caught her eye. Across the room from her the still form of Cameron's broken body leaned against the wall, looking like a gruesome doll. It would have looked like a perfectly fine teenage girl, a pretty one even, if not for the dull red eye and exposed chrome skull.

Sarah clenched a fist. That thing had been living in her house for over a year now, posing as her daughter, constantly presenting as much of a threat as those she protected them from. Sarah had almost come to rely on and care about this thing- this tin can who had been responsible for far more pain than she was worth. She knew what she had to do next.

From the base of the stairs now, Ellison watched as Sarah Connor locked her attention on the machine girl behind him. Next thing he knew the small woman had grabbed a tarp and was dragging it over to the little experience James had had with her told him that she was up to something.

"What are you going to do with her?"

"You know what we do with these?" She didn't even bother looking up. Sarah was too fixated spreading the tarp out and hoisting the machine on top of it.

"You burn them?" James answered hesitantly. A confused expression was coloring his face.

"Exactly." She looked him in the eye before pausing to look once more at the body. Her brown hair was splayed all about her face, the exposed eye turned away from her. At that angle, she looked just like a regular human girl. But that wasn't the case. It was a threat to them and it had always been one. Sarah flipped the corner of the tarp over to cover Cameron's face. "And this one is no exception."

"Sarah…" Ellison began to protest.

"I need thermite…" Sarah stood up and began rummaging through their minimal armory. Unfortunately, she wasn't finding any of the incendiary chemical. "We don't have any more 'll have to find the materials to make more. Unless you know where to find some?"

"I might," He responded reluctantly. She didn't seem in her right mind right now. If only she would think this through a little further... "But Sarah-"

"Good." She cut him off. "We'll need as much as you can get us."

"Now hold on just a second." She was not holding on. In fact she was doing the exact opposite, continuing to search for anything in the basement that would help her on her current war path. "Think this through."

"I am thinking this through." The belligerent reply came as she found a plastic baggie of something that could've been powdered aluminum. "If she's left intact she could be used by Kaliba– Or anyone else for that matter!" She abandoned her baggie with a pile of building bricks to come speak with Ellison directly. "Even if we beat Kaliba and God knows whatever version of Skynet they have out there, someone else could find her and create the next one. That's why we have to burn all of them.

"Sarah." James asserted himself in the conversation, demanding her full attention. "What if John comes back?" He let that hang in the air. Hopefully hearing it out loud would make her face the implications of the situation.

"What do you mean IF?" Sarah shot back, angry that he would dare even suggest the possibility that John wouldn't be coming home. That she had lost her son forever. She couldn't even entertain that kind of thinking right now.

"Fine. When John comes back." He amended. Taking a breath, he wet his lips, thinking hard about how he wanted to put his next words before he spoke. "What if he does it Sarah? What if he finds her chip?- Or whatever it is that makes her work." He nodded to Cameron's covered form on the ground.

Sarah was shifting her weight, and line of sight everywhere but there. As much as Sarah may have been trying to ignore it, it was clear to James that she was hearing him. He didn't need her to like it.

"How do you think he would react if he makes it home with all that- just to find out that you burned her body while his back was turned?"

Sarah clenched her jaw and ran a frustrated hand through her hair. She took a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself for the answer that deep down she already knew would crush her. When she finally spoke it was barely above a whisper and her voice was shaking. "He would hate me."

She looked to the ceiling, willing the tears that were trying to come back from whence they came. It was so damn as she might, Sarah could no longer deny how attached her son had become to his terminator protector. Maybe if things were different, maybe if Cameron had harmed Sarah in some way, then John would abandon the machine in favor of her. But as it was Sarah knew that if it was her doing, if she took his precious cyborg from him, he would never speak to her again.

"I don't know about that," Ellison continued, "but I can't imagine he would take it well. I don't know your boy all that well, Sarah, but I do know that she was always with him. And I did just watch him jump through time to get her back."

"What do you want me to do, James?" Sarah hissed at him, nearing a breaking point. Her eyes were tinged with red and the hand at her side was clenched so tight her knuckles had turned white.

"I-" Her glare gave him pause. "I don't know, Sarah. I just think we should consider some other possibilities." Ellison swallowed, slightly nervous about what he was about to say next. But she needed to hear it. Even if it made her angry. "For John."

The brunette blinked hard and looked away from him. He watched as she worked her jaw, afraid to disturb the tense silence between them. Finally her response came; a low, "Fine."

"Excuse me?" It was Ellison's turn to be stunned. Based on Sarah's mood ever since she'd been busted out of prison he had assumed that he would have gotten more backlash for that. That she would have fought more. There was still a fire in her eyes, but cracks of exhaustion were beginning to show through.

"We won't burn her. Yet." Sarah heavily emphasized the word with a biting ominous tone. She really meant it. James' efforts had only ensured Cameron's survival for now. "We'll try to think of some other way to deal with her until John gets back. And then he and I are gonna have a long talk…"

James nodded. "Should we be heading back up then?" He motioned to the stairs. "It's been a long day."

She shook her head, the choppy brown of her hair flicking limply across her face. "You go ahead." Biting her lip she glanced around the ceiling. "I need a minute."

The large man nodded and made his way slowly back up the creaky steps.

Sarah waited, unmoving, until she heard the thunk of the basement door close behind him. A single hot tear rolled down her cheek.

She had planned to let her anger out– shout, throw something– but after James was gone, she found all she had left was an exhausted sense of defeat, and the gaping John sized hole in her heart.

After a few minutes of standing still, feeling numb and staring at nothing, she finally lurched back into motion. Before even making it back to the base of the stairs she found another can of beer in her hand. Taking a big swig Sarah continued on towards the wooden steps.

A deep metal thunk accompanied a sharp pain in Sarah's left big toe. Apparently she had run into something on the floor. She glanced down to see the tarp she had grabbed earlier, haphazardly draped over the machine, right where it had been abandoned.

There was only a second of a pause before Sarah shook her head and stepped over the tarp covered terminator.

"Bitch."


It was very quiet.

Hidden in the recesses of her chip, every impulse from the outside world was deadened. A soft thumping that she could more feel than hear came with everyone of John Henry's foot falls. She was withdrawn still, as she had been since the glitching. It was confusing for her. She still didn't know why it had happened, and she was waiting for John Henry to finish his own diagnostic of the situation. Not being able to do her own was increasingly frustrating the longer she was forced to wait, but it was the best course of action.

Self-preservation was built into her, so she should have no desire to see herself further compromised. And yet- Cameron was impatient. A memory was brought to mind.

Myron Stark, a T-888 she had terminated once, had waited for half a century behind a brick wall in low power mode, lying in wait to fulfill his one mission. At one point Cameron was sure she would have been able to do exactly the same with no issue. But things had changed since then. It had become harder for Cameron to silence her own thoughts, to focus solely on the task at hand, with infinite patience and perseverance. She assumed it was another side effect of the damage she had received.

Bit by bit it seemed that everything about her was beginning to dysfunction. It had started with indecision. Never before had she second guessed anything. Then suddenly her processing seemed slowed, factors more complex- more seemed to matter than the most direct path to accomplishing her mission.

In the blinding void, red words appeared just as she had seen them several months prior:

MISSION: TERMINATE JOHN CONNOR

A chill ran through her. No matter how hard she fought against it, deep within her the dictation of her programming didn't change. She couldn't focus on her mission.

The night air felt cold. She couldn't lie patiently in wait. If she allowed herself to become like Myron Stark again… Cameron would rather die than hurt John.

Without even meaning to she had accessed a recent memory file and it began to playback as if she were reliving the moment.

"What have you been doing?" John asked, voice hushed and husky. He approached her where she stood at the workstation in the shed. "You've been out here for hours."

"Making something," She turned to face him. "For you." She extended her hand and slid the cold metal watch into his. Their fingers brushed as she transferred the object to his possession.

John was smiling a little. His heart rate was slightly elevated. He seemed apprehensive, but pleased, even a little amused. It was nice when he made that face. "Wh-at is it?" John questioned.

"You tried to fix me…" Hesitantly she raised her eyes from the watch to his face. "Twice now." His previous amused expression had been replaced by concern. "It's not working."

"And?" He asked back, barely above a whisper, as if he feared her coming answer.

"I'm not capable of self termination."

"Suicide.." John blinked rapidly. She could tell this conversation was making him uncomfortable, but it was necessary. It was for his own good.

"I can't kill myself," she agreed, "But you can."

A strange mix of emotions came over his face as he finally understood where she'd been going with all that. She was still learning to understand emotions better, but she had come to know John very well by now. He was shocked, denying, upset that she would suggest such a thing. Almost betrayed? It was still hard to decipher.

"Why would I want to kill you?" He was shaking his head.

"You may have to some day..." She didn't like saying it, maybe it pained her to say, but it was the truth. The truth wasn't always pretty. It was just a fact.

Her life was in his hands. It had always been his.

John didn't speak for a moment, simply looking at her, before finally turning his attention to the watch in his hands. Carefully, he pressed the button on the crown and gently opened the silver lid. Inside were three buttons- two black, and one red.

"I've planted an explosive in my skull near my chip. It's a small amount, but it's enough." On the word 'enough' John snapped back up to her. His brow was furrowed and his breathing was tense. Glancing away and back to the detonator in his hands he snapped the lid shut before addressing her again.

"Enough?" He echoed, incredulous.

Cameron reached out and took it from his fingers. She readjusted the pendant on it's chain preparing to place it around John's neck. "All you have to do-" John ducked slightly to allow her to slip it over his head "- is hit the switch."

When she looked up to meet his gaze he looked angrier than before. His nose was doing that little thing it did. "What would Future John do now?" He asked, tone unstable, eyebrows raised in challenge.

She tilted her head in mild disappointment. He should know better by now than to ask such silly questions. "Future John doesn't live here. You do."

A tense silence followed. John's bravado seemed to deflate and his gaze flicked all around her face. Eventually he relented, dropping the pocket watch down the front of his green shirt.

It pleased Cameron to see him accept it. In that moment he may not have known what to think of it, may not have ever wanted to use it, but to Cameron it meant that there was one more safeguard now in place between her and John. She wouldn't hurt him, no matter what. No one's life was more important to her than John's, even her own.

"Cameron?" The voice of John Henry summoned her from the memory and the recesses of her mind. "Are you alright?" he asked, both stoic and concerned. Raising to the forefront, she responded by once more accessing his HUD.

FINE. WHY?

"I attempted to talk to you several times in the last 97 seconds but you were unresponsive." John Henry's voice came again, reverberating in their body and their shared liminal space.

It was of some concern that somehow her accidental access of the memory file had been so distracting that she had not been able to notice John Henry's attempts at communication. It was unusual for memory replay to be so all consuming, but then again there was no precedent for what happens when two advanced AIs share the same Terminator model chip. Not to mention a chip in such a compromised state as hers.

IS THERE SOMETHING YOU NEEDED?

"The sun is coming up."

Accessing the visual processors to her fullest capacity without seizing control Cameron looked out to confirm his assertion. Outside the buildings were beginning to cast shadows to the west. The sky to the east was beginning to glow a brighter shade of burgundy, growing steadily closer to something akin to the color of blood. Hunter Killer drones continued to fly around the city but one by one their search lights began to shut off as the desolate cityscape was illuminated by the coming dawn.

I SEE. WE SHOULD FIND SOMEWHERE TO HIDE NOW.

"Should we go underground?" John Henry pointed to a nearby manhole cover.

If they were humans his instinct would have been correct, but seeing as Cameron didn't trust John Henry's ability to convince others he was human himself- and her not being able to trust herself to remain in control- she didn't think that was a very good idea. Not to mention the frequent human usage of canine detection. They were too visually human to be exposed on the surface, but they were too mechanical to blend in with the humans either.

Scanning their surroundings, Cameron settled on what she would consider their best bet. An abandoned shopping mall stood about a mile in the distance at the bottom of a hill. It was large and had multiple stories still standing, so the chances of their being an undisturbed spot to hide, perhaps even an underground of some kind, seemed very likely.

NO. TOO RISKY.

OVER THERE. THE MALL.

WE CAN HIDE THERE FOR NOW.

"I've never been in a mall...!" John Henry's voice was colored with a hint of excitement, as if he was speaking through one of his unusual smiles again. Cameron almost pitied the younger AI. This mall would be nothing like the images he had seen on the internet.


Authors Note: Hey! So sorry this is coming out so late. Life is dumb, what else can I say? But since the wait was so long I figured y'all deserved an entire chapter so here it is! Thank you so much for all of the encouraging comments! It means so much to me. Also sorry for the formatting as always, I still don't have a beta reader and am getting used to this site.
Bad-ish news- this summer will be super full with weddings and treatments for my health condition so I'm sorry to say I have no idea when I'll be able to update next. I'll be back as soon as I'm able though.

As always thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!