Chapter Thirteen:

On Your Feet

"John!"

John paused with his hand on the door of his cabin, slowing turning around to regard his uncle with a cool expression.

"Where are you going?" Derek demanded.

"For a walk."

"Alone?" From the way he said it, John guessed that Derek already knew the answer.

He scowled. "I wasn't aware I had to check in with you for every single thing I do."

"I'm your counselor."

"You're also my uncle," John shot back. "You're supposed to trust me."

"I do trust you," Derek replied. "I just don't trust her."

John's eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me, Derek," he warned. He knew his uncle well enough to know how false his last statement was. Derek didn't trust anyone, didn't trust Sarah, didn't trust Cameron, didn't even trust John Connor. It was just part of his nature. But it didn't make it any harder to accept. "I know you. You don't trust me."

Derek opened his mouth to speak, then closed it quickly. He didn't even try to deny it, casting his eyes downward. They locked on the pocket-watch necklace that still hung around John's neck. "What's that?"

"Nothing," John said quickly. "It's just a watch."

In a move so fast, John could barely track it, Derek's hand lashed out and grabbed the necklace, popping it open and spotting the trigger inside before John jerked backwards, frantically ripped it out of his hand.

"What's that?" Derek demanded.

John could feel his pulse beating faster as he tucked the necklace into his shirt. A slow smile spread across his uncle's face as he gauged John's reaction.

"It's a detonator, isn't it?" he guessed. "For the machine." He chuckled humorlessly, though John could hear the disbelief and hostility in his voice. "If she can't trust herself, John, how can you trust her?"

"I just do," John said stiffly.

His uncle didn't say anything else, but John noticed the way Derek's eyes lingered for too long on the little round lump under his shirt. John felt nervous. There was nothing Derek would like better than to see Cameron blown to smithereens. Whereas Sarah would never take a step that far, knowing her son would never forgive her, Derek would kill Cameron himself if John didn't.

John spun to the door, still feeling his uncle's gaze boring into his back. He wouldn't let Derek hurt her. He had to protect her.

He had to get Cameron to take it out.

*********

"I can't," Cameron replied calmly, despite his almost frantic protests. "You may have to use it someday."

John stood across from her in the mechanics lab, scalpel in one hand and the necklace in the other. "Derek will kill you if he gets this. He knows about it. He knows what it is, and he won't stop. His hatred runs deep. He'll kill you. Cameron, please," he begged. "You have to listen. Take it out. For me, please, take it out."

Maybe it was the pleading in his voice or the desperation in his eyes, but either way, Cameron finally complied, lying down on the table. John had already taken precautions, even though no one should be wandering around this late. He'd locked the doors and put blankets over the windows.

The metal appendage he could have explained. But if someone caught him slicing into Cameron's skull, there was no way he could talk himself out of it. They'd both get thrown out.

"Where'd you put it?" he asked.

"Right near my chip port," Cameron replied.

He started the familiar motion, pressing the blade down to her endoskeleton, swallowing hard. This part always made him squeamish. It didn't hurt her, he knew that. But he felt so awful cutting into her head like this. He hated it.

When he pulled back the skin flap and saw the tiny explosive right beside her chip port, he nearly sighed with relief, plucking it off and dropping it into his palm. Half of his fears were now solved.

Cameron sat up on the table and he handed her the explosive. "Promise me you won't try anything like that ever again. I'm serious. Promise me."

"Promise," she replied. This time, he knew she meant it.

As they exited the mechanics lab, John allowed himself a small smile, breathing in the cool night air. "So," he said softly. "What would Future John do right now?"

"Future John doesn't live here," she replied quietly. "You do. So the question is…what will you do?"

John stared at her for a moment, gazed into her perfectly human-like eyes, and leaned in towards her. He hadn't kissed her since the night of their school's Romeo and Juliet performance. It had been so real then, so human, so perfect.

But this time, neither of them had to act. It was completely real.

This time was even better.

********

Sarah hid in the shadows, watching John and Cameron as they stood in front of the mechanics lab. She had no idea what they could have been doing in there, unless Cameron had needed some type of repair.

"Future John doesn't live here," Cameron was saying softly. "You do. So the question is…what will you do?"

Yes, John. What will you do? Sarah wondered.

He smiled and made the first move, leaning in slowly and pressing his lips up against Cameron's, the kiss soft and sweet. Sarah's hand automatically went to the Glock tucked under her shirt. Not that it would do any good. There was no way Sarah would shoot with John in such close proximity. Then again, she was a good shot…

Somehow she couldn't bring herself to draw the weapon. Sarah had seen them kiss before, on stage during an acting performance, but this…this turned her stomach. It was sickening…disgusting even.

And yet, she still watched. Because this was her son making out with metal. With one of them. But what struck her and confused her the most was the humanity of Cameron's reaction, her responsiveness. She didn't have to do this. She didn't have to love John; that wasn't her mission. Her mission was to protect him. It wasn't programming that was fueling these emotions. It was just…emotion?

Sarah cursed herself. Now she was starting to sound like John. Whatever it was, it was unacceptable. She could not allow it. Slowly Sarah raised her Glock, taking aim, hearing Derek's words: one shot to the chip, they don't get up…

"Don't do it."

Sarah spun around at the sound of that sweet, familiar voice. When she saw the speaker, her mouth dropped open and her voice caught in her throat. "Kyle?"

Kyle Reese stood before her, just as he had when he'd helped her escape the hospital, just as he had stood by her side during the bloody leg surgery that followed. Except now, he seemed different. He was still her Kyle, his eyes were still kind. But she could see disappointment in them as well.

"You don't want to do this, Sarah," he said forcefully.

Sarah glanced back at her hands, at the gun that was still pointed at Cameron's head. "You don't understand."

"Actually, I do," Kyle replied. He took a step forward, placing his hands on top of Sarah's and slowly lowering the gun. "I know her in the future."

Sarah turned. "So she's gotten to you too?" Kyle was on Cameron's side? Had the cyborg corrupted everyone in the future?

"No, John Connor got to me," Kyle corrected easily. "I remember the first time I met her, the first time he brought her into the Connor Camp. The soldiers recognized her immediately; they knew what she was. Some went for their weapons. Maybe they thought they were protecting John Connor, I don't know. But John stepped in between Cameron and his men, protecting her." Kyle paused, looking at her with a curious expression on his face. "I used to wonder why he did that, why he would risk his life for her. She could have taken a few rounds. She may have had to be repaired, but she would have lived. So I didn't understand his actions at the time."

Kyle shook his head. "But I don't wonder anymore. He'd already lost you. He didn't want to lose anyone else he loved. Because the two of you are the most important people in the world to him."

"She's not people," Sarah said sourly.

Kyle pressed his lips together, shaking his head slowly. "See, that's how a lot of John's soldiers felt. Many didn't trust him after that. They felt that he was being corrupted by the machines. They felt that he was incapable of making good decisions. Even my own brother began to doubt him."

"But you didn't?"

"He's John Connor," Kyle replied with his familiar, sad yet kind, smile. "And he's my son. He's our son. I'd die for John Connor. And I trusted him. Do you?"

Sarah bit her lip and turned away, her face crumbling. "I don't know."

Kyle remained silent, studying her. "I had a picture of you. Something John gave me." He smiled proudly. "You were my lucky charm. I used to wonder what you were thinking about in that picture. I used to imagine what it could be. Was it your son? Was it about the war? The machines? Judgment Day? Sometimes, Sarah, you're very hard to read." He shook his head slowly. "But not right now. I know exactly what you're thinking right now. You still can't let go of your hate."

"Kyle…" She didn't know how to explain. She's been trained, had it drilled into John, that the machines were the enemy. The Terminators were the evil ones in this war. How could she simply abandon all those years of mistrust and disdain, especially now that her son, the destined leader of mankind in the war against the machines, was falling in love with one of them?How was she supposed to react to that? Just give in to John's belief that Cameron was different, that she truly was on his side? How could she trust John again after this?

Kyle had been watching quietly during her raging thoughts, and now he took her shoulders. "Let me tell you a story. On the day John Connor sent me back in time to save you, we were standing in the Time Displacement Chamber, waiting for the machine to be prepped. He was there, with Cameron, just waiting and thinking. And then he turned and looked at her, and I could see the hurt and pain on his face as he said, 'I don't think my mother ever truly trusted me.'"

Sarah looked away, fighting back angry tears.

"He was torn apart. And Cameron just looks at him and says, 'No, but she loved you.' And it was like something broke in John Connor. I could see he was flashing back to every memory of you he had; every time you'd been there for him, hugged him, loved him, comforted him, and the grief of your absence just finally took hold and he couldn't bear it anymore. It was the first time I'd ever seen John Connor cry."

Sarah clutched Kyle's hand tightly, squeezing her eyes shut. He smiled at her sadly and she saw the tears in his own eyes.

"And Cameron was right there, comforting him," Kyle continued. "And I'll never be able to thank her enough for what she did for him, by reminding him of your love. Because we'd all been waiting for this moment. For years, John Connor had endured so much loss and grief that he had built a wall up. It was as if he never felt the pain at all. It was like he was one of the machines. And we were all waiting…waiting for him to be human again. To feel again."

Kyle looked past Sarah, at young John and Cameron, who were still standing together in the moonlight. "But now I know that for the first years after Judgment Day, John Connor had to put up those walls to keep out the pain. Because he cared that much. Because he felt the pain of every death that came because of Judgment Day, because he wasn't able to stop it. He had to block the grief in order to do his job, to be the strong one in the time of catastrophe and hopelessness. He needed to be John Connor – the Great Military Leader. But on that day, when Cameron told him that, he once again became John Connor – the man.

"He looked up at me and said in the strongest and most desperate voice I'd ever heard him use, 'You do whatever it takes to save her. Whatever it takes. I need her.' And then he gave me this message for you, made me memorize it."

Sarah recognized the words as soon as Kyle began speaking them. "'Thank you, Sarah, for your courage through the dark years. I can't help you with what you must soon face, except to say that the future is not set. You must be stronger than you imagine you can be. You must survive or I will never exist.'"

Sarah glanced back over at her son, seeing him holding Cameron's hand as the two started walking down the path toward the cabins.

"He needs her," Kyle whispered.

And Sarah couldn't deny it any longer. She broke down, crying desperately into Kyle's strong, comforting arms. How could she have caused so much grief for her son? Why had she tried so hard to get rid of Cameron?

She slowly sank to the ground. After all she'd done to him, after all she'd put him through, could John ever trust her again?

Kyle crouched down beside her, looking directly at her, his kind, sad eyes boring into hers.

His voice was soft and loving when he spoke.

"On your feet, soldier."