Warning!
This chapter will be psychological and deeply sad.
I've learned from this style of story telling in 1983 that flames tend to erupt when some people don't like what they read.
So please don't flame if you don't like it.
Deck the Halls
There was a small breeze that floated over the North African desert that tugged at the grown out raven hair on Ryan's head.
The soldier in his late twenties stood outside of a small hovel that was whitewashed to keep the heat of the day out of the living space. The lieutenant watched the sun slowly set over the hill like dunes that were collapsed then rebuilt by the shifting winds of the harsh climate.
Ryan found it interesting and almost peaceful to watch, not minding the isolation of his location, though to tell the truth he didn't quiet recognize where he was. As he watched the painted sky pensively the sound of a beautiful voice was carried over the light sandy breeze.
The voice was familiar and enticing to the man, he couldn't help but think that it must belong to an angel. With a readjustment to his leather jacket he followed the voice.
It was sweet and smooth like running honey; it was sung low as if the female it belonged to wanted her song to be background. With a silent click, Ryan opened the door to the small home.
Inside of the hovel was mostly bare with a rack of rifles near a glassless window that was letting the fading light in. A cot for two was pressed to a wall and close by a hand carved cradle Ryan remembered was a gift from a native tribal leader whose life the soldier had saved from a centaur patrol machine when he had first arrived in north Africa. The sound of creaking on the stone floor mixed with singing turned the officer's head.
The sight of a beautiful woman with haunting crystal blue eyes and long curled locks in a white dress holding a sleeping newborn baby boy with curly black hair while she creaked back and forth on a rocking chair dropped Ryan to his knees in shock and pure sadness.
Seeing the man in the door the exotic beauty stopped humming and smiled softly.
"I didn't think you would ever get back …" she commented quietly as she rocked. Ryan recovered from his shock at the sight of the girl.
Getting back to his feet he quietly walked toward them, till he was looming over. After a pause, the soldier slowly stuck a hand shaken with emotion and disbelief toward her as if checking to see if she wasn't some desert mirage playing a trick on him, catching her cheek he felt a numbed sense of touch at her moisturized skin.
The girl smiled and turned into the touch. Ryan sputtered a breath and sniffled as they locked eyes.
"You want to hold him?" She asked with a bright smile. Ryan nodded feeling a cold sting of a breeze sweep into the room.
"Hold on a minute." He stopped her as he removed his old leather jacket and beaconed her to hand him the baby. Once he had him in his grip he wrapped the newborn in the comfortable warmth of the coat like a blanket, the collar covering the baby's head gently. The small human being made little whimpers as he squirmed comfortably in Ryan's arms.
"He's absolutely perfect …" the girl cued standing and placing her chin on his shoulder, both staring at the sleeping squishy faced baby.
"I can't disagree." The soldier had a tear in his eye as he reached over and stroked the soft wavy black hair on top of the baby's head.
Both Ryan and the girl traded sad smiles than she turned back to the baby.
"Say goodnight, daddy." She said sweetly looking back down at the new born. Ryan turned in protest but knew there wouldn't be any room for argument.
"Good night, Cowboy …" Ryan said with a shaky breath and kissed the baby on his small forehead, causing the baby to shift in his sleep.
After another moment the young woman slowly eased the baby from his grip and walked to the crib and placed the baby inside adjusting the jacket like a blanket on the newborn.
Watching her secure the baby in the crib, Ryan walked to the cot and sat on the edge of the mattress. When he looked up he saw the girl looking back at him, she leaned back on the crib and still had a longing smile on her face.
Wordlessly, the black haired beauty walked toward the soldier and gently settled herself on his lap. She reached out and touched Ryan's face.
"You've been gone long time."
With a sniffle the officer enveloped her in his arms and buried his face into her chest. The girl had tears sprinkling out slowly as she nuzzled his hair.
They held each other for a longtime before the young woman broke the contact and cupped Ryan's cheek with her hand.
"Now dearest love …" she took her other hand and stroked his stubble and looked intimately into softened brown eyes. "It's time for you to wake up." She said with conviction despite tears rolling down her eyes.
Ryan shook his head with tears of his own.
"I don't want to." He croaked painfully.
She let out a silent sob and nodded in disagreement.
"You have to wake up … this isn't were you need to be right now." She consoled.
"I don't want to leave you again … I can't do that." He fought off sobs.
The young woman leaned in and kissed the soldier with all the love she could muster. Ryan returned the kiss full force; they were one in that instant sharing a soul and a life.
Then the girl broke the kiss and looked Ryan in the eye.
"We'll always be here … waiting." She pulled him into an embrace to which Ryan held her close. With a nuzzle she placed her lips close to his ear.
"I'll always Love you, but it's time to wake up."
John came down the stairs with a relative ease coming from his room that morning.
His exuberance was one part genuine the other part smug.
Today the family was pulling out their winter clothing and getting into the Christmas spirit. He had never been much for holidays after the last five years, but this time it was different, he had a family, and there was no way he was putting up with the cop out that was last years Christmas. Which turned out to be just his mom and Cameron, where they ate processed lunch meat, decorated a crappy second hand tree and John and Sarah ended the evening falling asleep together watching Miracle on 34th street while Cameron checked the perimeter.
Like Derek had said on his birthday. "When there are thing to celebrate, they should be celebrated." And John wasn't going to waste this opportunity.
As he walked into the living room he could smell the warmth of pancake batter with hints of cinnamon and vanilla. It made his mouth water just to hear the grill going.
John smiled when he realized that with the absence of the burnt smell of the Sarah Connor specialty, that Cameron must be in the kitchen, as he recalled her pursuit of such a feet as the family cook after a unfortunate oven fire caused by overcooked home made pizza forgotten in a now legendary argument between his mom and uncle over something miniscule the other day. he couldn't help but snort at the fact that Cameron now considered Sarah a security risk in the kitchen and maintains that she be supervised at all times while in it's domain.
Walking into the dinning room John caught the smell of stale cologne and alcohol. John gagged at the smell of liquor, learning his lesson after a bender a week ago.
"Mary …"
With a lifted eyebrow the young man turned to the voice to find the newest houseguest sitting in a chair and passed out, slumping over the dinning room table. A pencil in hand with a manila file folder open with medical licenses and psych evaluation reports scattered over the table and a open notebook journal. Ryan's hair was disheveled and he had a five day growth of facial hair. His plain blue button down had a three claw mark tears on his shoulder like an animal got lose on him.
John also found with interest that he had a bleed through bandage wrapped around his wrist.
Farther away from him was a plate with a half eaten turkey sandwich and a bottle of beer.
"Dude, looks like crap."
Lifting an eyebrow John walked through the dining room and into the kitchen to find Cameron as predicted in front of the skillet. She wore a black spaghetti strap tank top that showed off her toned stomach and tight cowgirl jeans complete with a belt buckle and a towel shoved half way in the front of her pants, like a quarterback.
"Hey there …" John greeted bumping her shoulder as she watched the pancakes intently. After sliding a stack on the plate next to the stove, she turned toward him and smiled brightly.
"Good morning, John" she greeted with an innocent tone to her voice. John's knees felt like butter, but after a year he had learned to burry the affection for the girl.
"Those look good." John motioned to the plate that was being filled with four strips of bacon. "That looks even better." He commented at the liberal amount of bacon added.
"Yes, I hope it is." Cameron half agreed, but instead of moving to give it to him she walked out of the kitchen. John was a little taken back by the action.
He felt like an ass for just assuming that she had made it for him. But then she still might have, and this was her way of forcing him to eat at the table.
Following the silhouette of the teen, John entered the room behind the girl and to their surprise they found the soldier up and stacking papers and placing them back into the file. He had a stray tear in his eye which was wiped away with a forearm.
"Where are you going?" Cameron asked with interest that caught John as intriguing.
"I'm late, for a meeting." He replied with a tired gruff to his voice. Cameron took a step forward.
"With who?" she tilted her head. This once again colored John interested at his protector's spur for knowledge.
The man cut Cameron a look. "Don't worry about it." Ryan answered shutting the folder with irritation.
John was about to chime in when there was a knock at the door. Looking back and forth between the two other individuals, the teen huffed when it knocked a second time and took off out of the room.
There was a silence as Ryan closed the journal.
"You didn't eat the entire sandwich I made you earlier this morning when you got home." Cameron pointed out to the plate. The soldier turned to the food in question.
"I don't remember eating it …" he sighed making a clack as he straightened the papers in the file.
Cameron blinked dejectedly before offering him a plate of pancakes.
"I made you breakfast." She said hopefully. The man lifted an eyebrow at the offering.
"I gotta get out of here." He tossed a thumb over his shoulder, before pulling his old leather jacket off the back of the chair. Cameron nodded with a disappointed face setting the plate on the table.
"You should redress that wound." She pointed back to his wrist.
"When I get back …"
"It could get infected."
Ryan huffed in annoyance at the girl.
"It's a dog bite … I'm sure it's fine." He replied shoving an arm into the sleeve of his jacket.
"German Sheppard?" she asked. Ryan shrugged.
"I don't know …" He put his other arm through the jacket and shrugged it on comfortably. "But I sure as hell know that it wasn't a Scottish terrier." He chuckled bitterly folding up the back of his collar.
"How were you attacked by dogs?" Cameron pushed. Ryan scoffed tiredly placing the journal in his inner coat pocket.
"Pescadero" he answered. Cameron blinked at the response.
"The mental hospital?" she asked.
"I know, apparently some head Shrink there named Silberman had them keep K9's on the premises … who the fuck does that?" he commiserated with himself as he moved to leave. "Give this to Derek to look over … tell him we need to talk." He said handing her the file and walked out of the dining room.
Cameron looked to the manila folder, it had the name Pescadero stamped on the front and on the tab the name of DR. SERENA KOGEN was printed in clean writing.
She knew the name well; it had been all over the media she monitored for Skynet activity. The woman was a well respected psychologist and genetic scientist. The intellectual community mourned her passing, well known after she became the head of Pescadero after Sarah's escape and Silverman's retirement. That was until she was brutally carved to an inch to her life and her mansion burned to the ground.
But Cameron had followed the story for another reason, because in the future the woman would help develop and mold the Artificial Intelligence built from Skynet's code that would be one day known as Cameron, since the day she was created the woman had been there, teaching her about human's and other odd things about life she didn't understand as a new Artificial Intelligence, in a away the butchered woman was the closest to a mother she had ever had.
Cameron's musing was interrupted by Ryan coming back into the room and picking up a slice of bacon from his plate.
"Thanks for trying." He planted a kiss to her bare shoulder and gave her a swift but tight hug from behind before he left again. There was a moment before Cameron smiled gently.
Once he was gone she gave a human sigh and went back to the kitchen and pancake batter, pouring several circles on the skillet.
"I can't believe it!" Sarah raged silently with a slam of Ryan's abandoned plate on the island announcing her presence. Cameron continued to cook.
"Good morning, Sarah." she flipped a pancake passavily.
"What kind of family celebration is this if "that girl" is going to be there?" Sarah ignored Cameron and began to eat the bacon off the plate angrily.
Cameron had become accustom and well versed in referring to Riley, who she guessed, had been the one at the door as "That Girl" which was code between the two. "I mean … say we get into a car accident." Sarah asked.
"That won't happen if I'm driving …" The girl shot flipping another pancake. Sarah gave Cameron an annoyed glare.
"If it did happen, and we were stranded for an extended amount of time … what would we talk about? Hell … what does John have in common with that girl anyway?" Sarah growled eating another strip of bacon.
It was at times like these that the cyborg would point out that Sarah was acting no better than a sixteen year old mean girl whose territory Riley was "Pissing" all over. But Cameron knew that if she accused the former cheerleader of reverting she would never hear the end of it and neither would the entire family on there way to the surprise location John was taking them to.
"John isn't interested in witchcraft or Satan worship, so it does confuse me as well." Cameron replied icily. Sarah cracked a silent smile at the comment.
"I see things are going well in here." John said out loud coming into the room.
"They were." Sarah commented under her breath when Riley walked into the room. Cameron ignored the girl's presence finishing the stack of pancakes.
John had wanted for this day to be special and for there to be some sense of normalcy between his close friend, his best friend, and the girl he loved. When John got his idea he wasn't sure, how this would turn out. He knew his mother (his best friend) would end up coming down on Cameron (the girl he loved) like a ton of bricks over something little and Cameron would only say something snarky in her own cute and innocent cyborg way that would only fan Sarah's temper and he couldn't even think about how messed up it could be when both came after Riley. But last night he had put his faith in his loved ones, but two seconds into the good old fashion Connor family Christmas his mother still hadn't grown up and Cameron was being surprisingly dismissive.
"This is going to be fun." Riley muttered to John walking on egg shells around Sarah who seemed to hear the comment and was eating the stack of pancakes with a dangerous glare.
"So, hey!" John cleared his throat and moved toward Cameron who was dumping the last of the batter on the skillet. "Why such a big breakfast?" he asked.
"You said that today is a special day … so I made a special breakfast." She smiled as she flipped a pancake. John bit his lip trying to suppress the urge to kiss the cook. He let off a smile and backed away slowly as not to do something stupid.
While John and Cameron conversed with Riley watching on begrudgingly Derek appeared in the kitchen, However when he spotted three females in his nephews life gathered in a enclosed space he was about to turn the other way unnoticed, that was till Sarah caught the hem of his shirt and pulled him back, without looking.
"Hey, John, Derek is coming with us, to whatever it is you're taking us." Sarah announced to her son in an even tone as she ate Ryan's pancakes with one hand and clamped on to Derek's shirt with the other.
Derek gave her a pleading look, but he knew that his roomy had settled with the classic Sarah Connor, "If I go, Derek has to come." indifferent attitude that left no wiggle room.
"Umm … Okay." He frowned in confusion at Derek who begrudgingly sighed and grabbed a fork out of Cameron's hands that had been meant for John and hacked off a piece of Sarah's pancakes.
Cameron glared and went back to get a fork for John.
"So … where is this place we're going?" Riley asked brightly.
"Well …" John nodded in thanks and sat on a stool across from Derek and Sarah. After stuffing a large quantity in his mouth he smiled.
"I'll show you …"
It surprised Derek just how much blind faith John seemed to have in people sometimes.
During the war, he would sit and watch John make a strange choice in decision planning, putting all of his trust in one man; Derek would throw a fit and go into rants about the nativity of John and how he was an idiot like he hadn't been through the hell and back like the rest of them. But it always worked out. The soldier never fathomed how sometimes John's plans never seemed to make sense till the end when the day was theirs. Those plans were called the "Connor Gambit" and it had happened so many times over the years that Derek learned to put his head down and do his job.
"So what was your favorite Christmas present of all time, Cameron?"
"Ignorance of Riley Dawson."
However Derek had come to realize while sitting in the front seat looking back at the three females sitting squished together in the back of the truck, all with pissed off looks on there face with the sound of the 24 hour Christmas music radio station that John was humming too as he wondered a parking lot, that maybe he could safely question his nephews decisions today.
"He knows what he's doing."
Derek snorted lightly at his nephew who had the trade mark look that said John Connor knew what he was doing. However it wasn't lost on Derek that Sarah, who was stuck sitting in between Cameron and Riley, for the blond's protection, also knew what John was doing and wasn't amused.
"How much further?" Sarah's tone was as sharp as a sowing pin. John winced at her tone but didn't falter.
"The next person who asks me that loses a hand …" John shot back laying on the horn at some teenage girls who just speed into a parking space he claimed. Sarah and Riley glared while Cameron looked at her own hand in thought.
There was ten more minutes of wandering a parking lot, most of which were spent watching Cameron and Sarah bicker about fashion, which Derek would never admit sounded like a genuine mother and daughter argument.
After finding the parking space everyone followed John down the what seemed to be the half mile walk to the entrance of the building that Stopped Derek cold.
"Century City Mall?" Sarah crossed her arms over her chest at the bitterly cold air and lifted her eyebrow.
"Yeah … I mean what better way to get into the holiday spirit then a little Christmas shopping?" John gave Sarah a grin that she couldn't help but return, in that smile he gave her, she saw the five year old boy that always wanted a family Christmas.
"I guess I couldn't argue with that?" she relented.
For the first time in a year there was a true understanding between the two that use to be so common. A silent wave link that only John and Sarah were in tune with that connected them to each other on a subconscious level that made love something that didn't need to be expressed because it was like a powerful river running through them.
Cameron smiled, because she had mentioned that quote to John the other night as he was mussing loudly about what would get the family in the yuletide fever. She liked it when John took her suggestions to heart.
Riley's face lit up and just seemed chipper at the fact that she was getting a chance to go shopping.
However, it was Derek who seemed hesitant to take a step toward the large sprawling building that housed hundreds of stores. He stood with his back to the truck door, like a cornered man. His hazel green eyes had fear in them as he read the name looming over the entrance.
"Hey Derek … you okay?" John noticed Derek's hesitancy and uncharacteristic uncertainty.
"Huh?" he looked toward the young man with surprise as if his voice shoved him out of a walking dream of horrifying familiarity.
"You alright … you look a little pale, man?" John shoved his hands in his pockets. Derek blinked his wide eyes gaining control of himself.
"Yeah …" Derek nodded his head "Yeah, I'm good, must be the cold" He cleared his throat and walked past him, ignoring Sarah's gaze.
John and Cameron traded looks, He could tell that the girl knew what was eating at his uncle, but decided to leave as it is.
"Come on" John pressed his hand on Sarah's beanie clad head, not being able to get over how cute she looked in her coat and head covering. Sarah swatted his hand away with a playful grin giving him a push.
Cameron brought up the rear of the small group that made their way to the impressive looking glass entrance of the brand new mall that was suppose to be the big thing in the city. All around the entrance people were moving, filing in and out of the area looking to get there Christmas shopping done.
While initially Sarah couldn't say no to her boy about the normalcy of traditions for their new family. The sheer volume of people entering and going through the door was a security risk.
Sarah gave John a look that said she was having second thoughts about this. Not to her surprise John seemed to be waiting for the turn of her head with the frown she was now giving him.
"Stay close to Cameron …" she glared, conceding that she couldn't deprive her boy of something simple as a shopping trip.
As the group made there way forward, Derek panicked for a moment and grabbed John's arm and pulled back.
"Wow … what the hell!" he called out in surprise. Sarah was also surprised at such a quick and desperate motion. The emotional look in the soldier's eyes made Sarah worry that Derek might have seen metal lurking that Cameron might have missed.
It only took a moment before Derek realized what he had done and let John go. He looked stressed beyond his years, as if the sight of the building was bleeding him into old age.
"I'm sorry …" he blinked seeing that he freaked out not only Sarah, John, and Riley, but he had also attracted some unwanted attention their way from passers by.
There was a pause between everyone as if waiting for an explanation. But Derek gave none after an anticipated silence.
"Umm … you go on ahead, I'm just going to be out here a moment." He motioned the family forward.
They hesitated, before everyone moved on inside.
John held the door open for the girls in a mock gentlemanly manner before looking to Derek who stood in the middle of the entrance looking at him with the same scared eyes, before he entered the large shopping mall.
The wind swept across arms depot 7 warehouse just outside the city was one of the worst stations you could get out in the middle of nowhere.
That was at least what Andrew Lawrence thought as he walked back and forth numbly over the concrete asphalt covered ground, making his jump boots click as he adjusted his heavy digital cameo coat. He should've been in Iraq or Afghanistan, but because of his dismal performance in boot camp, he was assigned guard duty outside some out of the way forgotten warehouse where there was little water on sight and nothing interesting unless you like your face to be whipped with sand. Yeah maybe this was what Afghanistan is like, but at least he would be doing something.
"This is not being all I can be!"
He sighed in frustration making his rounds again, counting his foot steps for the hell of it.
Through with his rounds for the hour (Not that it was needed) he was about to go back to his vivid fantasy about Megan Fox in a whip cream factory when a large horn blared over it.
He startled to find a small moving truck cruise past the open gate, that he had left lifted, because in all honesty who would come to the secret depot if they weren't there officially?
The soldier hitched his rifle on his shoulder and walked toward the vehicle that stopped in front of the loading dock.
"Hey!" Andrew called jogging up to the tinted window and knocked. "You need to show me your orders buddy!" he called.
The window rolled down to reveal a red helmeted female figure in a padded Motorcycle jacket. With out warning she pulled out a sawed off shotgun and pointed it at his face.
BOOM!
"Thank you for explaining …"
"Maybe John would like a hand job?"
"Cameron!"
When John said that this was a family affair Sarah somehow thought she would end up walking around the mall with John, going into the stores and looking at things and buying gifts together, which really was John choosing something for someone and Sarah putting her name on it, because Sarah was the worst gift giver ever.
However she never thought she would instead be stuck with Cameron in a sporting store getting disapproving stares from people while everyone listened to her cyborg daughter, make inappropriate gift suggestions while they pondered what to get John and Derek.
"John's nails are looking rough." She offered. "I could give him a satisfactory hand job … I've been reading books." There was innocence to her voice that would almost make Sarah laugh at the statement if it wasn't for a shocked mother leading her son away from them.
"No … Cameron." Sarah tried to cut her off.
"Oh, did you want to give Derek a hand job?" She asked. Sarah blushed a deep red at the comment.
"Stop saying that!" She snapped at the girl. "It's not called a … hand job." She hissed. "It called a manicure and men … at least most men don't get manicures." She warned the cyborg. Cameron nodded and followed Sarah into the baseball section; having sat through several games with John and Derek she knew that both enjoyed the sport very much.
"What size is Derek's hand?" Sarah asked touching the new leather of baseball gloves.
"Do you wish to give him a manicure?" Cameron asked intrigued. The woman glared at the girl, but Cameron smiled softly and handed a black right handed mitt to Sarah.
"I fooled you again." She announced with a now much wider smug smile. Sarah tried to burry a small affectionate grin as she took the glove from her hand. Then she placed it back and chose a dark tan one of the equal size and hand.
"Sarah?" Cameron tilted her head in curiosity.
"What …" she grinned to find the gloves on sale since the season was over.
"What is a hand job, and have you given John one before, and if so did he enjoy it?"
Sarah blinked at the teen through an emotionless stare.
"We'll figure John's gift out later …" Sarah announced and walked away.
"Sarah is a hand job an appropriate gift to give someone on Christmas?" she asked in pursuit.
"Shut up, Cameron!" She snapped at the stares she was getting, most of which told her that they weren't going to give her a gold star in parenting.
After paying a cashier the two left the store.
"What's that line for?" Cameron asked Sarah as they moved past crowds of shoppers.
Sarah looked out at the long line of adults with small children lined up in front of a winter wonderland display of fake cotton ball snow and a big candy cane thrown, where a fat man in a Santa suit sat with a fake beard flanked by two teenage girls in elf costumes who seemed to be keeping there distance from him.
"That's where you meet Santa Clause." Sarah answered distractedly, looking around the mall. Cameron was surprised at her comment.
"Really?" she asked. Sarah flipped her phone open.
"Yeah, when John was five I took him to one of those for the first time. Son of a bitch squeezed my ass and John kicked him in the balls and I decked him the face. Never been back there ever again." She placed the phone to her ear.
"Is that why you have to buy John's presents on Christmas?" Cameron asked.
Sarah didn't respond, just fixed her with a weird stare.
"Derek isn't picking up." She scoffed after a moment. "Here …" Sarah handed Cameron the bag. "I'm going to go outside to see if Derek's still out there, Watch his present." She walked briskly away.
Cameron glared at old Saint Nick and decided that it was time he answers for why he had been shunning John all these years.
The sound of a saxophone laying down some melancholy jazz telling a tale of longing for a blond named Julia that a wry handsome young man in a suite played seemed to be a fitting mood of the barroom of the Sultan of Swing. The piano accompaniment took the edge off the grit like a woman's touch to a hard boiled man's heart.
The bar had no inside lighting except for a row of neon signs that illuminated the bar room in a red and slightly blue hue that was easy on the eyes of the drunken fools on their early afternoon benders. It was an old saying to run to the light if you're ever lost in the Sultan, because you've other died or found an exit.
There were few people in the dark hazy bar room. Most kept to themselves, drinkers this early in the afternoon always were those looking to run from something, or in some cases just wanted to forget their past entirely. So, the need of conversation or human contact of any sort was unwanted.
Somewhere in the middle of the large polished wooden bar sat Ryan nursing an empty glass of scotch with the ice perspiring in the warm building that was offering shelter from the ironic bitter cold overcast day in sunny Los Angeles. The former officer sat on the bar stool looking into his empty drink. The neon blue lights winking behind him hit the ice just right and for a moment he saw her eyes again.
The soldier covered his face with his hand when the piano and sax hit a crescendo in the song, welling up a deep emotion that hurt too much to put into words.
"Keep … hit me again, and make it a double!" he said with a growl of pained sadness. The men cleaning a beer mug with a white hand towel stopped and nodded, bringing a bottle of scotch and filled the glass. When Ryan removed his hand the blue eyes were gone. With their disappearance his soul unclenched, taking a strong gulp of the burning liquid and sighed in relief.
Closing his eyes, he listened intently to the saxophone and the notes connected to it. Suddenly with enough concentration he could hear a baby crying in them. He rested his hand against his palm and took in the sound, drinking in the pain that slowly was killing his soul.
The sound of the door opening turned the man from his tortures musing to the sight of a familiar woman with elegant long black curls that reached just to her lower back and pinned back. Her beautiful face had light blush on her cheeks and a beauty mark on the line that separated her cheek from her nose. She wore a plaid button down that was tied around her lower chest with the buttons on the top mostly undid exposing her creamy cleavage that was supported by an almost visible black pushup bra. She walked up to the tired man softly swaying her hips to the music wrapping her body into his personal space
"You look tired …" the woman had Sarah's concern green eyes, nuzzling her nose into his matching grown out hair.
"You're late Weaver." Ryan gritted, taking another drink ignoring her inappropriate affection.
The Liquid Metal smiled at the comment and shrugged, savoring the discreet looks her sexy glamour was getting from the bar patrons.
"Unlike you, I have a company to run and look after … it takes time." She said coyly crossing her legs on the stool in a courtly manner as she sat next to him. He scoffed dismissively at her excuse and refused to look at the woman in the eye as she stared at his appearance.
"You could have shaved and maybe changed your clothing, for me." She stated running a cool hand across his thick stubble. Ryan slapped her hand away from his face.
There was a pause between them letting the melancholy jazz play off the tension.
"Call her off." Ryan cut through the silence sharply.
"Call who off?" Weaver asked innocently. Ryan slammed his glass down.
"Don't play cute with me. You think that I don't know about the Red Mask stalking Sarah in the shadows?" His voice was gashing and straight as a deadly arrow.
"How would I know what she's up too?" she flashed a grin at the bartender who was ogling the small tattoo Weaver gave Sarah on her lower back.
"Because, sometime after my father left me to find my mother on my own, that psychopath started showing up every time I got close to where you were holding her. So don't sit there and tell me that you don't have a fucking clue!" Ryan jabbed his finger at her like he was holding the metal at knife point.
Weaver frowned at the soldier's accusation. Out of all the people the liquid metal had met and contended with she hated the Captain next to her the most. John and Cameron Connor had killed her boy and their son Ryan was the creation, born out of love of John Henry's killers. She didn't find fate amusing that after all that she had taken from John and Cameron and all she had done, she could never inflict the same pain they had her, never being able to kill their child.
"You walk the same road, if I remember correctly she was the one who trained you? If there is anyone who knows how the Red Mask moves … It would be her most distinguished student." Weaver shot back at the man with a smug look of satisfaction at being able to throw it back in his face.
Ryan growled dangerously snatching Weaver by her shirt and pulled her inches from his face. "I'm warning you right now, if you're apart of this plot to kill Sarah, the truce is over." He shook her. The machine tilted her head at the threat.
"And who do you think will benefit from the conclusion?" she seemed amused at his comment.
"I dead serious … if the Red Mask even so much as looks at her wrong I'll personally dismember you and your AI." Ryan grinded his teeth to a growled tone.
"I'd love to see that …" Weaver glared at the warning.
"Try me!" his voice was soaked with hatred, looking hard into green eyes.
The stare down between the two carried an off setting amount of tension. There was an almost primal rage in Ryan's eyes that reflected something that Weaver saw as a weakness to be exploited to level the playing field.
"I'd be careful, Detective … that protectiveness might turn into an obsession that you can't control …" the liquid metal cupped the soldier's cheek as she whispered.
Ryan went rigid at not only the comment, but the way the machine had said it. He let go of her and turned back to his drink. Seeing the chink in the armor she moved to exploit it.
"You wouldn't be the first Connor to find comfort in me while I was in this form." Weaver gave a sultry smile the man's way.
The ex officer refused to look at Weaver taking a hard gulp of his drink as if to clear the memories of the past that her comment had dragged out of him.
"Go to Hell." He grunted riding the burn in his throat.
Like a dog on a bone Weaver was determined not to give her enemy the satisfaction of escaping her strong jaws. She stood and slowly strutted behind the stoic Connor.
"You know when I came to him, back in Central America … he use to think you were asleep." Weaver slithered Sarah's arms around Ryan's. "But you weren't … sometimes at night when you lay in bed, you still hear them?" The cyborg grinned victoriously when Ryan's jaw tightened visibly. "You can still hear her little whimpers and gasps as he worked in her, her whispered strangled moan of his name when she came for him." Weaver gripped the worn leather of his jacket into balls in her hands and whispered a moan in Ryan's ear.
"John …"
CLICK
The sound of a pistol hammer being cocked back echoed and the feeling of a warm chrome barrel of a .45 pressed against her navel stopped the metal's monologue.
Ryan discreetly pressed the barrel of his side arm into Weaver with enough force to leave a bruise. "Your mind games don't work on me you terminator bitch … I'm not my father." He said with a ruthlessness that seemed to contradict his statement.
"It's only a matter of time …" the woman removed her body off him, but instead of backing away she walked around and pressed herself into his personal space. "You're a twenty seven year old disgraced Tech-Com officer who's lost the love of his life and is dealing with it in a bottle of alcohol." Weaver grinned at the parallels she was drawing as Ryan holstered his pistol. "Sounds a little familiar to me." She shrugged.
Ryan snatched the woman stealing his air by the neck with his cybernetic hand.
"I know the difference between loving someone and being love with someone … my old man didn't." There was a scared rage in his voice that he couldn't hide. Weaver pushed his hand off her.
"You might know today and maybe two weeks from now, but in several months when you're run ragged by all of Red Mask's plots and Skynet's legion of machines, close to your breaking point … I wonder when you'll start to lose that containment in your mind. And in your living hell you'll turn to your mission, because in the end it's all that you'll have left. Soon Sarah Connor will become your obsession … then sometime later" Weaver trailed off unfinished letting him soak in her words. "You'll start to justify the way you long to taste her … or what those satiny panties feel like under your palm when you're rubbing your fingers against her warmth …"
"That's enough!" Ryan stood, clamping his hand on Weavers chin. With a flash of cold hatred the machine once again shoved his hand off.
"You remember what I said … you rein in your lackey or I'll burn you and you're bastard A.I. to the ground." His voice had venom as he pointed at the woman aggressively.
"I'll be waiting …" she spoke with a cold and challenging voice. Then with out missing a beat she walked out of the room leaving Ryan standing in her wake with pure hatred.
"One more glass!" Ryan slammed the bar counter.
As he waited he tried to push what she said out of his head, but he couldn't ignore the parallels
Especially, today of all days.
"What can I get my mom that says sorry for being an ass?"
John walked through a sundry store looking at things that really didn't speak to his mother's personality.
"I doubt they sell armor piercing rounds here."
There was apart of John that wanted to buy Sarah something expansive, just to let her know that she was important, but then he remembered that his mother hated expansive things, something about his grandmother doing that to keep Sarah from telling anyone.
"Whatever that means?"
"This looks cute …" Riley held up a bust of a teddy bear in a fatigues. John snorted and took it from her and placed it back.
"Yeah, because when I think of my mom I think glitter and teddy bears." He sighed.
"Well, maybe if you would start pitching ideas instead of problems." She glared with a huff. There was a pause between them before anyone spoke. "Plus I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this …" she shrugged. "I personally don't see that you did anything wrong." She sniffed, fingering a crystal wine glass.
"I was being a dick … that's what I was doing." He sighed again figuring that maybe this might take a little more time than he thought.
"Well … I get why you would go to such lengths for your mom and all … but I don't get Cameron."
John acted as if he didn't hear that slight hitch in Riley's voice. It was something dangerous, something that went beyond a rivalry between teenage girls; it was the same pure hatred that Derek used when he was forced by John to address his protector by name.
"Because, I love her …"
"Oh shit!"
John less then subtly turned in alarm to Riley, who looked like she was about to puke on his shoes.
"Well, you know like I love my sister …"
"Who are you!"
"Because, she's my sister."
"Shut up John!"
There was an awkward pause as John poked at a shelf.
"Totally …" Riley nodded uncomfortably as well as with some anger at the conversation, which once again cued John in on something being off.
Riley's phone buzzed and she agitatedly pulled it out of her purse and read the text.
"John … I need to go … Kay's making cookies or some shit like that and I need to be there." she addressed him with contempt.
"Umm … I don't know where everybody is, but if you give me a moment I can call someone up and give you a ride." John dug into his pocket.
"No, I'll take a bus … or whatever." she walked away from him.
"Riley … whatever?" John pursued her out of the store.
"Yeah, John or whatever …" she stopped and sighed. "Just you know what, just spend the rest of the afternoon with your Angel and forget about me … It's what you're best at!" she stormed off leaving John a little baffled at what just happened.
"I think I just got whiplash from that mood swing?"
John gave a confused frown. Something told him this was triggered by Cameron, but in hind sight what was wrong with what he said, from an outsiders perspective it was very common to hear someone say they love a sibling. He was sure that he had said he loved Sarah ten thousand times to people in passing and no one ever gave a second thought about it.
However he knew he needed to do something about the little slip up about Cameron. He had been holding it in for so long and keeping it buried that it was starting to pop out like a weed through concrete or worst, it starts coming out randomly in conversations.
"Yeah mom I ordered the pizza we like and I love Cameron."
"Damn"
John sighed and decided to go find his mom, before she started buying presents without him, still under the illusion that she somehow could magically buy gifts that weren't lame or in some nightmare cases insensitive.
His gaze turned to a little boy in a small aviator jacket in the arms of a girl who reminded John of Cameron. The little toddler had black curly hair and brown eyes and he was cracking up at something to which the girl was laughing at the little giggles as they got into the Santa Clause line. He smiled happily
He suddenly spotted the real Cameron sitting on the fat man dressed as Santa's lap and looked to be being coached to lick a candy cane in a very suggestive manner.
"THIS SHIT ISN'T HAPPENING TWICE!"
Sarah walked out of the row of glass doors to the front of the mall. When she got out she closed the collar on her coat at the bitter whip of wind that slapped her body harshly.
With a moment of looking she found Derek sitting on a plastic bench his hands in his jacket looking at the stone patterns on the floor. Sarah's face lightened and a small understanding face seemed to replace the worried one.
She walked up to him and loomed over his hunched form. Derek looked up and blinked at her.
"Hey" he grunted.
"Hey …" she lifted her eyebrow at the soldier. "What are you doing out here?" Sarah asked shivering slightly to make her point. Derek shrugged dishonestly and leaned back on the bench.
She glared knowingly, and after a beat she moved and sat down next to him. After a silence her teeth chattered loudly.
"You should go inside." He addressed her with a momentary look.
"When you do." Sarah shivered stubbornly, never being use to cold weather no matter where she went. Derek sighed at her comment and both traded looks.
Wordlessly Derek removed his hand from his pocket and placed an arm around her pulling her close to him. Sarah's general pride wouldn't have had any of this … but the appeal of the warmth coming off him was just too good to pass up.
She snuggled into him leaning her head onto the side of his chest. There was another long silence that both sat on the bench, sometimes getting smiles from people who seemed to mistake them as a married couple cuddling.
"I know why you won't go in there …" Sarah looked up at him. "Century … this is where you said the work camp is. Kyle told me that they systematically murder people in this place in the future." She finished searching his eyes for something.
"It's not just that … this is where they took him, after they ripped Kyle from me, this is where they forced him to shove bodies, human bodies into these large ovens … sometimes infants." His voice was caught on emotions a moment to which he cleared his throat.
Sarah looked down a moment, trying to respect his reputation by turning away from his teary eyes.
"My mom use to tell me, when I was little, before she went off to dance practice that Kyle was my responsibility that it was my job to look after him. But … this place is just a reminder that I let her and Kyle down." He sighed. "Sometimes I think that it should be Kyle here with you and that it should've been me that died in 1984 … If I had been there when it all went down in Topanga … I would have volunteered for the mission." He looked off to the distance.
"To protect Kyle?" she confirmed looking back up at him. Derek locked eyes with Sarah his hand stroked her rosy cheek.
"And you … I would die for both of you." He nodded.
There were no words that could recapture the feeling that seemed to over take her. Sarah knew the love for John that inspired such a claim from her, but to hear someone say that about her … she couldn't remember the last time anyone since Kyle had ever devoted their life to her like Derek had.
"Maybe you're here for a reason." She sat up and touched his face with both hands. "You, being here with us in the past, protecting John. Maybe that is your redemption, to protect Kyle's legacy?" Sarah ran a cold hand over his warm cheeks letting his stubble scratch her palm. "Maybe that's what we're meant to do together." Derek's eyes flashed at the secret truth to John's paternity, yet she told him causally, knowing that he knew already. Derek didn't ask.
Then they kissed again. This time both mutually went for another in that moment. Like before Sarah's words to him were perfect complement to the kiss that wasn't fiery or passionate, but simply brought on a feeling of completeness of the soul.
"You know there seems to be three constants in my life, Cam, Robots, guns, and Santa Clauses with wondering hands."
"It's a tough life."
Sarah and Derek came apart to and were startled to find a winded John panting with one hand in Cameron's the other on his knee. Both seemed not to notice the couple on the bench.
"John?" Sarah called.
At the voice both John and Cameron's let go of each others hands.
"Why hello there." Cameron said with an automated innocent voice that seemed to make her sound more suspicious. John shot her a glare and shook his head.
"What are you guys doing out here?" John asked looking from Derek to Sarah.
"Nothing … what are you doing out here?" Sarah said to quick for her to sound believable. John and Cameron shared a look.
"Nothing, Just … uh, needed some fresh air." John panted to which Cameron nodded with a serious frown.
There was an awkward silence as both couples tried to play it cool and not give their secret away to the other twosome.
Cameron bumped John and motioned to the door to which the teen cursed under his breath.
"We'll catch up with you guys at the truck!" John said with a nod before he took Cameron's hand and sprint off.
"Wait, where's Riley?" Sarah called, but the two disappeared into the parking lot. "Oh what the hell do I care?" she huffed after a moment. Derek lifted an eyebrow at her comment.
Just then three uniformed mall security guards rushed out and looked around the area, followed by a clean shaven fat man in a Santa suit with a busted nose.
In the late hours of the day the sun peaked out through the clouds bathing the last of its reddish glare of the dying winter's day.
The sound of the ocean crashed over the motorcycle engine as Ryan cruised over the sandy soil leaving a small trail behind him. He stopped in front of a small rusted metal barred gate that guarded a grassy field of plaques that had the date 1984 chiseled on the top.
Ryan skidded to an easy halt and shut the engine off. He put the stand down with the heel of his boot and removed his helmet. He stared blankly out at the unmarked graves from 25 years ago.
After silently hanging his helmet on the handle he dismounted and walked forward off the sand and onto the grass. He opened the gate and past through it with the accompaniment of a rusted squeal and bang when he let it go.
He stopped at the crest of the grassy hill and looked down on the hundreds of unmarked headstones in rows bellow.
He closed his eyes and let the cold wind sting his face before he sighed sadly.
"Hey … It's uh … it's me." He smiled sadly. "I'm sorry we haven't talked more but, I've been a little busy lately … I know that's no excuse coming from someone whose use to hate when your grams and grandfather gave the same excuses, but maybe I understand a little better now." Ryan chuckled with a sigh.
He let a long pause pass before he continued.
"I'm not sure if you're up there, since you technically haven't been born yet, but since your old man isn't an expert on heaven I guess there's hope." He gave a shaky breath. "I know we never met, but I think about you a lot, Cowboy, you and your mother." He nodded with a small tear running down his cheek. "Even though it may not seem like it from up there." he gave a shaky snort.
Ryan listened to the ocean crash a little as darkness started to settle over the setting.
"You know I keep thinking that maybe if I had been there when you were born, I could have done something. Or If I had known how truly sick your mom was I would never have left her when your grandpa called …" his voice cracked. "But I thought your great grandmother needed me … and you know how much your old man likes to play hero." Ryan looked down at his feet. "Well, I guess I've learned my lesson?" he looked up again with a bitter shake of his head.
He went silent again letting things roll around in his brain.
"Well … I guess I'll let you get back to your party … thanks for sparing a couple of minutes for your dad." He smiled sadly.
He sniffled and placed his hands in his pocket.
"Oh I almost forgot …" He pulled out a small wooden carved fighter plane that wasn't painted. "I had been meaning to give this to you for awhile." Ryan placed it in the grass. "I'll let your great grandpa give it to you …" He nodded.
He lowered his head for a moment.
"Give a kiss to you momma and everyone else for me and tell them that the way things are going down here … It won't be much longer." He cleared his throat. "They'll know what I mean." He smirked sadly. He lingered a moment longer and looked up at the sky.
"Well I guess this is goodbye, but only for a little while …"
He consoled with a hard sniffle and with his thumb he cleared his stream of tears out of his right eye.
"Happy birthday, Cowboy."
The inside of the Connor home that night was alive with Christmas lights, decorations, outside lights, a Santa and his reindeer display, and reefs, Lots and lots of reefs.
"The previous family has a hard on for Christmas."
John snorted at Cameron's almost bitter sounding comment to which he was sure she had no idea what it meant.
"What the hell happened!" Sarah asked as she and Derek came down the stairs with boxes to find Cameron completely wrapped in Christmas lights.
"You now, I've spent the last five minutes pondering that same question?" John chewed on some spearmint gum, trying figure where the streams of lights started.
"Me too" Cameron chimed in standing with her arms out.
Derek set his box down on the couch and snorted at the sight of the girl.
"I say we forgo a tree and just toss some decorations on the metal, she's already lit." he scratched his stubble.
Sarah and John grinned lightly at the comment while Cameron just tilted her head.
"I would be a good lawn decoration." She commented to John who was walking around her untangling one of the four strands.
"I don't know … angel's usually go on top of the tree." He grinned cheekily stopping a moment. Cameron smiled warmly at his comment.
Derek rolled his eyes to the sky and Sarah wrinkled her nose at the statement. John looked at his parental figures reaction.
"What?" He glared. Sarah and Derek exchanged looks before going back to John.
"We were just in awe at the smoothness of the line." Derek said sarcastically.
"I liked it." Cameron replied once again with a smile just for John. The teen grinned and pointed to the girl as if it was giving him validation.
"Don't encourage him." Sarah huffed playfully ruffling her son's hair as she padded by in socks to the front door.
"Hey mom, my phone has a problem." John looked up from is squatting position untangling the cord at Cameron's feet.
Sarah frowned at the comment and fixed John with a worried stare.
"What is it?" she asked pulling her boots on.
"Your number isn't in it." He grinned.
"What do you mean? My number was the first programmed …" she was jogging her memory until she saw his cheesy wiggle of his eyebrows at her. Sarah crossed her arms and had a stupid grin on her face.
"Did that come out as smooth as it felt?" she asked.
"I liked it." Cameron said to which John winked and pointed to Cameron again. Sarah glowered at their almost automated response.
"John, go take the professor upstairs and untangle her." She called more than amused at her boy's good mood as she opened the front door and stepped out.
"You complete me!"
What started out with jokes and some laughing from John turned into silence as the young man traced lines on Cameron's skin. She sat on his bed next to a pile of untangled lights watching John intently as his hand smoothed some of the tight reddened indentions on her smooth skin.
He couldn't help himself, it looked painful and even though she had told him a million times that she didn't register pain the way human's did, he still felt the need to massage the little bite marks on her shoulders, plus Cameron wasn't protesting.
Both were silently excepting the contact, knowing that words could possibly ruin the intiment closeness that they found themselves in.
After a moment, John realized that he was just now randomly stroking Cameron's bare stomach while she watched him, laying down on his to small bed. He found himself feeling no better then the perverted Santa.
"Well I guess that's it … you're untangled." He announced, giving one last rub of his thumb to her navel to which she smiled contently. He cleared his throat at her reaction and moved his hand to his propped up knee. "Just … uh remember next time when your untangling lights try to keep track of them." he laughed.
Cameron nodded and then when it occurred to her that John wasn't going to restart her favorite form of his affection she pulled down her tank top hem and sat up.
Both teen's faces were inches apart as they sat on the small bed.
John wanted to kiss Cameron, he wanted to take her in his arms and connect himself to her. He wanted to show her how much he loved her. But she had boundaries that she had set down, there was a line in the sand that she had drawn that was meant for his protection, so she said. Though he would like nothing better than to ignore it, he respected her position however misguided it was.
"Thank you" Cameron gave a ghost of a smile and gave him a peck on the cheek. John closed his eyes as if her lips where scolding hot. He let it pass while she stood and went for the door.
"Cameron …" John called with a heavy breath. She stooped and turned toward him.
"Yes"
There was a look of fright to her, as if she was hoping that he wouldn't open old wounds by bring up the terms of there arrangement, not to pursue her, nor her him.
"Look … I know about these rules you put between us." He started, getting to his feet.
"John …" she tried to cut him off but he put his hand up.
"I'm not going to argue with you … not tonight." He assured her. "But, I got to say this before it drives me crazy." He sighed nervously.
Cameron blinked and waited in anticipation.
"I don't know how to build up to this other than to just say … I love you." He shrugged. "I've loved you since the first time we met in New Mexico even when I found out who you were, even when you were hunting me downtown on my birthday I couldn't stop it. All this with Riley it … I couldn't change these feelings for you." When John was done he felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
There was a thoughtful pause in the room as he watched the angelic girl try to sort through what he had said.
"Tell me I'm crazy … but I know you feel the same way." He laughed at the thought that he must be crazy, because there was the very real possibility that he was projecting her programming as feelings.
"No, you're not crazy." Cameron said with an innocent almost sad voice. "I'm not familiar with human emotions so I'm not able to explain the intricacies of how my mind works." She frowned. "But, you are my whole world … I can't see myself without you." She looked at John with a flash of emotions. "Without you my life has no meaning."
John looked to the floor and cleared his throat of emotion as she opened door. Once she was in the hallway she turned to look at him.
"John …"
He looked up at her.
"There are rules because … I can't live without you."
Cameron looked as if she let something slip she hadn't meant to.
When she shut the door she left John alone with his own pained devices.
The night air was appealing to Sarah who walked outside the house into the dark front porch.
Strolling out to the landing of the second staircase, she looked up at the millions of stars that twinkle out over the peaceful night. A small smile graced her beautiful face as she closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the distant city below, mixed with the sound of crickets by the nature trail near the house.
There was a small thud from inside the shed that caught Sarah's attention. Opening her eyes she turned to her destination to find the light on under the crack of the door. She almost went back into the house to grab the shotgun when she noticed Ryan's black racing motorcycle near by.
She was a little surprised at his appearance, since their conflict with the nut job who was claiming her as his property; she hadn't seen the soldier more than once, though she knew that he had been around here and there over the last week.
She tiled her head and wrapped her arms around her. She pondered why she suddenly cared that the officer was out in the cold and not inside, nor could she fathom why she was worried that he might be injured and need help.
With an interest grin she walked toward the shed.
Ryan stood over the wooden work table, hunched over looking at scattered photos and files of mental patients mixed in with security screen captures of the Red Mask stealing Military grade weapons from some long forgotten depot.
Millions of questions ran through his brain … to many faces and lives to fit into the equation. Ryan wasn't sure if he was chasing smoke signals in the dark or if he was chasing his tail, justifying his need for answers with farfetched ideas.
He turned and looked at a picture of the petite red helmeted killer.
"What are you planning?" he asked out loud.
The shed door opened, letting a cold breeze shift the papers on the desk.
"Sorry …" Sarah apologized and shut the door quickly.
Ryan didn't look at her as he turned his gaze to a set of Blue prints tacked onto the wall of the shed.
Sarah crossed her arms and looked at the two layouts near the window.
One had a name and date scribbled on the front.
PESCADERO ASYLUM, CIRCA 1922
The second had a similar title and date.
PESCADERO STATE MENTAL HOSPITAL, CIRCA 2001
On the recent Blue print there were red strings tied to the thumb tacks that created a replica of the perimeter of the old asylum, also there was a collection of bage thumb tacks scattered on the map like they were pinpointing people's locations.
"What's all this?" she asked looking at the random pictures of buildings and faces tapped and tacked to the wall.
"Leads on your bloody names … and the red mask." He answered gruffly.
Sarah observed the man's tired frame that had several injuries that should be addressed.
"We're uh … putting up some decorations for Christmas and ordering some pizza, you're more than welcome to join us …" she tried to put some food in front of him to get a positive answer.
"No" he snapped with his back still to her.
She was taken back at the harshness and growl to the voice as if she was interrupting something that was life or death.
There was a pause before the soldier sighed and bowed his head wearily.
"I'm sorry …" he cleared his throat. "Thank you for the offer, but I gotta figure this out." He turned his hard brown eyes to look at her. She felt a twinge of guilt at the look of tiredness that seemed to over take him.
"Any progress?" Sarah walked up to him taking the spot across from him shuffling through the papers causally looking at worthless physic evaluations she knew all to well.
"Just names and theories." He crossed his arms.
Sarah came across a list of high level military grade explosives.
"That's one hell of a list for Santa …" Sarah held up the piece of paper. Ryan grinned at her comment.
"Red Mask stole a several boxes worth this morning." He answered pointing to a screencap of the girl in question loading boxes into a storage truck.
"There's a lot you could do with this." Sarah secretly felt envious of the killer for having better toys to play with than her.
"Well whatever it is … Pescadero's her target." he sighed thoughtfully. "She's been smuggling weapons in there for a week now." He turned back to the blue prints.
It took Sarah a moment to realize that the red stringed perimeter was the foundation of the old building, if that collapsed the whole hospital would go.
"You think that she's going to bring the entire hospital down?" she asked.
"Does she need any help?"
"It's a possibility … Pescadero is a Skynet laboratory." He scratched his chin thoughtfully.
There was a part of Sarah that wasn't surprised by that. In her three years of hell she couldn't find a fitting place that could bring the sterile uncaring of the machine and the twisted mind's of the human race together then in that place.
"If she's working against Skynet … then why would she want to kill me?" she asked out loud.
"I don't know … I just don't know." Ryan's head lolled tiredly.
Sarah sighed and the maternal instincts kicked into high gear.
"Hey maybe a break would do you some good … a shift in prospective." She offered walking over and placing a comforting hand on his back. The man shook his head and rubbed his left eye.
"I feel like I'm running out of time here." He sounded resolved despite his demeanor.
Sarah twitched her face with disapproval, but didn't press the matter and walked toward the door to which he escorted her.
When they reached the door he opened it for her to which she stepped out into the cold. Before going she turned to face him.
"This thing with this Red …?" Sarah tilted her head with a mock playful look that made Ryan smile.
"Mask, Red Mask." He corrected her.
"Right … this rivalry with the Red Mask is this personal or purely fascination?" she leaned on the frame.
Ryan looked to his toes in thought a moment using his weight on the door.
"Personal …" he looked up at her with phantom indignation.
Though strongly believing in letting things be there was a part of her that was wanting to know what it was about this strange almost comic book like assassin that had the future soldier so driven to stop her.
"Why … what did she do?" Sarah asked despite herself.
The young man shifted in more clear sign of anger.
"She tried to kill you … twice." He looked her in the eye with a protectiveness that made Sarah feel a maternal spread of warmth.
There was a pause before Ryan was launched into deep pensiveness, griping his chin with his thumb and an arched index finger.
"And I want to know why."
Author's Notes
So like I said this was deeply psychological and dark and let me tell you folks it's only going to get more the same as this story moves along.
Before I get the flames I will try to explain this if you didn't get it from the story. Ryan is not in love with Sarah … I repeat Ryan is not in love with Sarah. The situation that Weaver is forcing Ryan in is that of obsession. The idea that he will become so worn down mentally and physically that he'll start to lose prospective on everything he holds dear and become obsessed with his mission which in turn is Sarah.
So my plan in general is for everyone to buy into Jameron and Sarah/Derek.
If you didn't like the psychological stuff in this than I hope you enjoyed the story from what you read, because this is probably the last humorous chapter.