John lay asleep, breathing slowly, softly, his eyes in motion as he drifted into REM sleep. In these moments he seemed so peaceful, so unlike the whirlwind he would become, so different from the John she had known. But there were moments that man shone through the youthful teenage exterior. This John appeared to feel more, to still carry hope within him, so unlike his future-self. As much as she had learned from him, so he had apparently learned from her and her kind. In the future, this man was more machine-like than his enemies; he understood them on a level none in his time could begin to contemplate.

Cameron could not understand why her thoughts continued to dwell on questions like these. Her mind had difficulty focusing on any task not directly related to him, and such obsessive thought-patterns could not simply be attributed to her programmed mission. She remembered Vick's video recordings in that moment, wondering whether the other machine had felt as she did, or if he had been simply initiating proper contact to achieve his assigned mission. Could others of her kind learn as she had, or had this ability been something special that future-leader had given to her, and her alone? Would she have fallen for him in this way if he had not programmed her as his protector?

She terminated the errant line of thought, focusing exclusively on John. Often times she had stood guard, as she did now, watching him in his sleep, ready to protect him on a moment's notice. But such was not enough for her now, and she moved to lay beside him for a moment, careful not to wake him. They were only 15.2 centimeters apart now, and she could feel the warmth that emanated from his body. As if sensing she was near, even in his troubled sleep, he turned and fell into her, and her arm wrapped gently around him in reply.

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Yawn. John's eyes opened as he stretched, realizing he had actually slept in for once. It was unusual for him to sleep long; his mother's training had been ingrained into him, you could never stay in one place for too long, you could never feel safe. Sleep required that one feel at ease, and that was a rare event for either of the Connors.

"Did you sleep well?" Came the voice beside him. He nearly fell out of the bed with surprise. Cameron lay in the bed next to him, gazing at him with a questioning look on her face.

"Uh.. yeah... I guess I did. We're you there all night?"

"Not 'all night.' Five hours, 13 minutes." Cameron began, deciding that the seconds elapsed were irrelevant.

"Not that I mind, but why?" John began, his face flushed.

"It seemed right." Came her stoic reply. "Was that wrong of me?"

"No... Just surprising." Worry clouded his features for a moment as he paused. "It would be.. uh.. best if my mother didn't know about this."

"She would not approve. She doesn't like me." Cameron finished for him. "I understand."

"It's not that she doesn't like you... just that... she doesn't see you as I do." The worry passed from his face and he smiled slightly. "Thank you... I haven't slept that well in a long time."

Cameron was tempted to try and kiss him, but thought better of it. She began to understand that human relationships moved at a very slow pace, relatively speaking, and she must be cautious. At first she hadn't considered Sarah's opinion on the matter, but it was obviously important to John that his mother not be disturbed by their closeness. She smiled back at him, feeling happy, feeling content.

Sarah's footsteps echoed down the hall as John trudged off into the bathroom for his shower. Cameron looked at her quizzically, unsure how much the scarred woman knew.

"Good morning, Sarah Connor." Cameron said simply, without a touch of sincerity or emotion, purposefully sounding as mechanical and machine-like as possible. It would be wise if she appeared less than what she was, that she might not appear as threatening. Perhaps that would comfort Sarah and assure her that all was well.

"I don't need your pleasantries." Sarah said sharply.

"I understand." Her voice rattled off mechanically. Cameron tried not to take it poorly. Sarah only saw her as another machine, a more evolved version of a microwave or a telephone. But she still felt something akin to hurt; she knew herself to be much more than another gadget. She could feel, she could learn, she could even bleed, did that not mean she was alive? Did that not mean she had a soul? She remembered John's words then, though she knew he had been lying, the memory still pained her.

"Don't play me for stupid. I know what's going on." Sarah continued, before trudging off into the kitchen. Cameron tilted her head, wondering if John's mother had been bluffing, a common human tactic, or if she knew more than she let on. Cameron fretted over it for several moments before deciding to ignore the problem until more information was available.

There was little else to occupy her time while John attended to his morning rituals. Cameron opened the curtains and watched people go about their daily lives. This world was so very different from the one she came from, it was like the contrast between day and night. In school, one of the teachers had been lecturing about the Dark Age, a human era stretching from the fall of an entity designated "Roman Empire" into a long era of war and chaos. The parallels were obvious to her: this world, this civilization was destined to fall as before, bringing about another Dark Age. She frowned for a moment, wondering why her classmates did not pay more attention to the topic. It was in their own best interests to understand their history, that they should avoid their terrible future.

She closed the curtains again, walking about the house, ensuring that no potential threats lay anywhere. It was a routine for her, and it brought comfort to her. Her feelings for John were very different than the imperative of her programmed mission, but fulfilling mission requirements brought a different sort of satisfaction. It couldn't be described as pleasurable, but it made her to feel useful, something she found to be of great importance.

Her thoughts wandered back to John, as they often did, and she found herself smiling as she played back recent memories. Humans placed great importance on the "first kiss" and she found that it was a very pleasing memory for her as well. What she felt couldn't be properly described or categorized, and that fact should have bothered her, but it didn't. Future-John had always treated her so tenderly, often to the point of alarming his men, and she was beginning to understand why. A part of her wondered if she would still be functioning in that time, but she had seen no sign of herself in that future, and it worried her. Partly it was because she didn't want to leave John unprotected, but a much larger part was that she didn't want to leave John at all, she wanted to continue to function, to live by his side.

"What's going on?" A voice interrupted from behind her. It was Derek, alarmed at her lack of motion for the last several moments.

"I was thinking."

"About what?" He asked, his voice laced with cynicism.

"Things."

"We're all just data to you, aren't we? Things." Derek's voice was angry, laced with a dark, deep-seated hatred.

"No. You are not just 'things.' Some of you are much more." And with that comment hanging in the air she turned and walked towards John's room, having heard him exit the bathroom. Behind her Derek watched her go with just a hint of grudging respect.

John pulled the t-shirt over his head and began tossing several random items into a duffel bag. The frenzied activity was mirrored in Sarah's room, and Cameron realized that they were preparing to leave this place.

"Where are we going?" She asked curiously.

"I don't know, mom just told me to start packing. I stopped asking 'where' a long time ago. I'm sure it's because of Sarkissian." John's voice was tainted with sadness, and Cameron felt a need to comfort him. She did not know the words to help him, but she grasped his hand and squeezed it gently, sliding her fingers between his. After a few moments she broke contact and headed to her room to attend to the items she would be bringing with her. Behind her, Sarah frowned slightly and resumed her hurried packing.