Interesting! I didn't expect so different opinions on the first chapter. Yes, I exaggerated John's behavior, however, in the show he was the most annoying pain in the ass, especially in S2. Therefore I think that on a bad day (and he HAD a bad day in chapter 1 – read carefully!) he could react like I portrayed him. Hadn't anyone of you had a bad day before? A day on which you'd rather strangle each and everyone around you instead of talking normally to them? I did! And not only once, so I believe that his reactions weren't that much off. Besides … at the end he realized his overreacting.
To soothe 'broken hearts', here's the next chapter already. Man, I'm too generous … ROFL
After he sent Cameron out of the house, John finally began to see how idiotic he behaved. In this chapter you'll find out what were the consequences of his overheated reaction.
Chapter 2 – John
Another lightning illuminated the windows and just a second later a rolling thunder caused John's gut to vibrate in the low rumble. Even the glasses on the shelf clinked, just like the whole house would be shaking slightly. This one was close! Since the storm began, John subconsciously counted the seconds between the lightning and the thunder and this time, before he could count down one second, the thunder came. For the last ten minutes the storm was closing in on their residence and he had no doubts that it would pass directly over the house. In one, especially 'illuminated' minute, he counted 35 lightning flashes and the night was from time to time bright as a day. Needless to say that the thunder accompanied the lightning and built uninterrupted rumble background.
He was nervously pacing all over the living room, gazing through each window that he passed, hearing to the steady, heavy rhythm of thick raindrops, hammering against the glass. Ever since he literally chased Cameron out of the house, he felt uneasy. True, she was a terminator and a little bit of rain wouldn't do her any harm. But being out there in such terrible weather was something that made him worry. Strange indeed! First I literally throw her out of the house and when she's out, I begin to worry that something might happen to her.
Ever since the entrance door slammed behind her, he felt like being a total jerk. Seeing the mighty storm, rolling over the L.A., he felt even worse. His eyes swept over the clock, just to see that she'd been out for more than two hours now. Nothing unusual, actually. But he knew that she preferred to stay indoors in such heavy rain. He suddenly had to grin at the thought. She sometimes acts much more human that we all give her credit for. I don't see why a machine would mind standing in the rain and yet she does. He remembered how surprised he was, as he once noticed her obvious discomfort after returning home from her round, completely soaked as the sudden downpour caught her.
The storm was getting even stronger and his relentlessness grew with its force. She should be back by now! Did she really resent me so much for my words? Yes, I absolutely crossed the line, but she's not an angel either. She lies to me, she deceives me… He stopped at the window again and contemplated a chance to go out in search of his wayward protector. But just one look through the windows told him that he would only be wandering around without any hope to find her. Especially since he believed that she didn't want to be found. The trees, bent in the gusts of wind, the raindrops, almost as thick as nuts, falling, or better even: flying almost horizontally, told him that he'd better wait inside for the storm to calm down. In the now almost constant flashing of lightning he could also spot some not so small twigs, obviously torn from the trees, flying around. Good that they don't crash against the window. Otherwise we'd have quite a nice heap of glass shards in here. Not to mention the soaked floor.
Seeing the almost impossible weather, almost impassable roads around the house, really caused him to worry for his protector. Cameron was out there, alone in this fury of the nature's most powerful weapons and she was dressed, as far as he could remember, only in her skin tight jeans, a long sleeved sweater and a thin jeans jacket, all of it of course accompanied by her standard combat boots. Does she know that she looks impossibly cute in those boots, wearing them to any attire? Not exactly the appropriate type of clothing for such weather. Hell, I hope she found some shelter and isn't roaming around like a lost puppy in this downpour.
After another half an hour, he finally sat down on the couch, noticing that the storm was drifting away. He felt just a little bit relieved, but considering the fact that Cameron still wasn't back didn't allow him to relax.
"It seems like the worst is over." His mother's voice from the kitchen door almost made him jump in surprise.
He turned to look at her, and saw her leaning against the door frame and looking at him in silent amusement. "Don't do that, mom! I had no idea you were there. I thought you were in your room." He sighed and panted slightly.
Sarah smirked at him: "What? Can't I even come down in my own kitchen without scaring my heroic son?" She then scanned the room: "Where's tin miss?"
John shook his head: "She went on patrol before the storm and didn't come back yet." He sighed. "It's not pleasant to be out there in such miserable weather."
"She's a terminator, she'll be fine," Sarah smirked. She noticed her son's distraction and her mind quickly began to put together all the little things that she noticed before, but at the time dismissed them as unbelievable, impossible or simply misunderstood. She noticed that her son, however impossible it might have been, cared for the cyborg girl much more than he was ready to admit to himself or anyone else. He was generally still treating her poorly, but when he thought no one could see him, his eyes and face betrayed his true feelings. And now … now he wasn't even trying to hide his concern.
"Yeah, I know. But still … I don't think she ever stayed out in such weather." John mumbled more to himself than to answer his mother.
Suddenly, Sarah believed what she desperately didn't want to believe. But there was more to this situation: "Did you two have a fight?"
John's head jerked into her direction and he looked at her with guilty eyes: "Well, sort of." He closed his mouth.
However, Sarah wasn't ready to allow him getting away so easy, so she insisted: "Is she malfunctioning again?"
John's eyes widened in astonishment: "Why would you think that? No, I …" He stuttered for a second: "I simply said some things I shouldn't have said."
Got you! Sarah was satisfied and horrified at the same time. She now knew that her son caused that the tin miss ran out into the storm and it made her feel uneasy, because he blamed himself for it. "She's a big terminator, John! She doesn't have emotions, she doesn't care for words. Whatever you might have said … she'll get over it."
John cut her off, angrier than he wanted: "Wrong mom! She cares. She cares and I insulted her." What the heck? I blame her for everything that went wrong in the last months and yet her I am, protecting her from my own mom? Am I really that dense that I can't see for myself that Cameron is just trying to protect me at all costs? That she definitely cares for me?
Seeing his mother's astonished expression, the future savior of the human race suddenly felt like he'd been cornered so he waved his hand dismissively: "Whatever." Then he stepped to the window and looked outside. The storm was moving away in the distance and only light rain still reminded that there had been a very foul weather here just minutes ago. Leaves, twigs and dirt, carried hither by the wind from god knows which dumpsters, lay scattered across the road where the wind and the rain dropped everything. He waited for his mother's answer, but after it didn't come, he turned to her: "It stopped. I'll go out to see if I can find her."
Without giving Sarah the chance to protest, he quickly stepped to the entrance door and opened it wide. He waited for few seconds, allowing his eyes to adapt to darkness, assessing the situation outside and as he saw that the wind died too, he switched on the light at the door. He quickly scanned the driveway and suddenly felt like his heart stopped for a second. There was a heap of … something … in the middle of the driveway, not more than 15 feet away from the door. And that heap was dressed in blue denim.
No! No, please, no! He suddenly panicked as he realized that that unmoving heap was Cameron, lying there like dead. It took him only few hasty steps to reach her and he fell to his knees at her side. She was crumpled in an almost fetal position, lying on her right side facing away from him. He carefully reached to touch her left shoulder with intention to gently nudge her, but his hand stopped in the midair. The memories of her lying in the puddle of water on the church floor and him, trying to butcher her scalp to take her chip out came back. Is she perhaps really malfunctioning? Is it safe to touch her? For a second he hesitated, but then he grabbed her shoulder and shook her. "Cameron?"
No answer. No movement. No reaction at all. His heart began beating much faster and fear that she might be dead flooded his mind. She should reboot in 120 seconds. Wait as long, you moron! He had to remind himself, but knew nevertheless that it was probably just a false hope. She was almost certainly lying here for much longer than two minutes and if she hadn't rebooted by now, then something was very wrong. Very, very wrong! He sat back on his heels and waited. He didn't even notice Sarah, who exited the house too and stepped beside him.
"Is something wrong with her?" She asked quietly, seeing the distress her son was in.
John didn't even raise his head, just shook it: "I have no idea. I'll wait for two minutes and see what happens then."
"John! You should be careful. Remember what happened the last time she rebooted." Sarah warned him in fear that he might become over confident and do something stupid. Like he wouldn't be doing stupid things all the time!
"Yes, mom. I know everything. I am careful." His annoyance could evidently be heard in his voice.
He waited with hands, folded in his lap to prevent his mother from seeing them shaking in fear, sitting on his heels and counted the seconds in his mind. After he passed the two minutes marker, he knew with certainty that something wasn't right. Something was definitely not right. He reached for her and turned her on her back. As soon as she rolled over, he gasped in shock and heard the same voice coming from above, emanating from his mother's mouth. The vision of his protector shook him and left him completely stunned. The right side of her face was burnt beyond recognition and clothes on her upper torso had been burnt away, revealing a deep burn, reaching from her neck down to her breasts. The hair on the right side of her head melted away as well as skin, covering her chip port, which was open. From the previous times as he pulled her chip, he remembered the blue light in her port and the absence of it woke only the worse expectations in him. His hands began to tremble vigorously and he gasped for air in shock. "No! Please, let her be OK! I can't lose her! Please!" He wasn't aware that he was talking aloud.
Sarah was equally shocked and didn't even register John's shaking voice. She stared at the creature, who used to be a beautiful teenage looking cyborg girl, but who now resembled a zombie rather that anything else.
After few seconds John managed to overcome the initial shock and began to search around the body for the missing port cap. If he was to do anything to help her, he first had to find that. With still trembling hands he swept across the floor and hoped to find it. Just few seconds later he gulped and exhaled in relief, as his fingers came across the metal cap. He didn't want to think how it could be torn away from her port. That was something he would be debating later. Now his task was to carry her back into the house and revive her. He carefully picked up the cap and stuffed it in his pocket. He got up from his knees, reached with one arm under Cameron's knees and with the other under her armpits. He remembered from before that she was heavier than a human girl of her built would be, but that didn't matter at the moment.
He strained and lifted the lifeless body up, leaned her head against his shoulder and turned towards the door. As he was turning he saw Sarah's stunned look. "What? Is something wrong? I can't possibly leave her here." His words were harsh and he wasn't ready to listen to any nonsense at this moment.
Sarah shook her head in silence. She knew very well that they had to bring Cameron back in the house. But she didn't have to like the way John was handling her lifeless body. He was way too gentle and worried for her taste. Like he would be carrying his lover. No! That's not possible! He's just worried for his protector and maybe a friend. There can't be anything more! She tried to persuade herself and even succeeded in her efforts, at least for the time being. She followed John, who was already at the door and after she stepped over the threshold, she quickly checked if anyone saw what just happened. After seeing that no one was out there, she sighed relieved, closed and locked the door.
Meanwhile John already laid Cameron on the couch and as he straightened up he gasped in shock again. His eyes widened uncontrollable. Now, in the well lit room, he could see actual damage to her face and body. It seemed that half of her skin simply vanished, simply melted away and he suddenly began to ask himself if it would heal at all. Sure, she'd been injured before, but this … this was beyond anything she had to deal with before. He looked into his mother's eyes with a hint of despair in his face: "She must have been hit by the lightning. I don't know if she …" He trailed of, not wanting to express his worst fear. Fear that Cameron might never be Cameron again. In this moment he finally admitted to himself that he had been harboring feelings for her for a long time. I promise to treat you right, the way you deserve to be treated. Just come back to me, Cameron, please!
Then he concentrated on the task at hands. "Could you bring me pliers, please? And a screwdriver." He turned to his mother. She just nodded and went into the kitchen to fetch the required items. While waiting for her to return, John pulled out the port cap from his pocket and inspected it. He still couldn't understand how a cap that was screwed to the port could come off. He took a good look at it and noticed that the screw was broken. It must have been torn by the lightning. Then he turned to Cameron's body, swallowed hard again as he saw her heavy injuries and hesitantly reached for her chip port. He had to overwhelm the anguish as he felt her burned skin under his hands and concentrated on the port. He took a good look at it and saw that the rest of the broken screw still sat in its socket. He scratched his forehead in contemplation how he could solve this problem.
"Here you are, John." Sarah just entered the room again and laid the screwdriver and the pliers on the table. She looked at her son, who was still inspecting Cameron's open chip port. "Will you be able to fix her?"
John straightened and looked at his mother thoughtfully: "I don't know. The screw which fixes the cap is broken. I think I can replace it, I just don't know how to get the broken piece out of the socket." He glanced at Cameron's port again and suddenly his head jerked up: "I could try drilling a small hole into the rest of the broken screw, then insert a counter clockwise smaller screw and screw it out." He jumped to his feet and ran for the door.
Sarah looked after him in surprise. What's he up to now? Then she turned and looked at the cyborg, lying unmoving on the couch for a long time in silence. After a minute, she sighed: "You just had to go out in that weather, right? And now my son feels obliged to help you." She shook her head. "Maybe we should simply burn you and solve quite a few of our problems."
"Burning her is not an option! It wouldn't solve any of our problems it would make them much bigger!" John's voice was more than a little pissed off and he looked at his mother angrily. He was holding a small tool box in his hands and glaring daggers at his mother, who visibly flinched upon hearing her son's angry voice. She wasn't expecting him to return so soon.
After throwing another withering look towards his mother, John stepped to Cameron. "Please, let me do what I have to do." He didn't turn to face his mother, but he could hear her going away and letting him do what he had to do.
He hesitated for a second, his eyes lingering on the inert form of his cyborg protector. I can't lose you Cameron! I have to bring you back! He took few deep breaths and slowly reached for the tool box, he just brought from the shed. After few seconds he pulled out the correct tool and set on getting the remains of the broken screw out of the socket. It was a delicate work, especially considering the fact that he was scared to death to damage her chip. If I could only take it out! Damn you Skynet! Did you have to make the port so damn complicated? For few minutes he worked in silence, taking care not to make any hasty movements, even holding his breath when he started a delicate phase of his efforts. All the time he tried to push his fears away. Fears, that he wouldn't be able to bring her back. Fears, that the open port and almost exposed chip could have gotten damaged in the rain. Fears, that she wouldn't heal. Fears, that she would go all nuts on him again. But strangely, the thought that she might go bad again was the least disturbing of them all; what he feared the most was that he wouldn't be able to bring her back.
He finally managed to pull out the remains of the screw and looked at it thoroughly with a deep sigh of relief. He reached into the box again and pulled out a new screw, exactly the same dimensions as the broken one. For the first time since he found Cameron on the driveway, he smiled. At least I have solved this problem! But then his eyes fell on her head again and smile vanished from his lips. The most important work was still waiting to be done.
Carefully, he grabbed her chip with the pliers and turned it counter clockwise. With utmost care, he slowly pulled it out of the socket and with trembling hand, put it on a tissue on the table. He suddenly realized that he was holding Cameron in his hand. The small chip he was gazing upon was the essence, the very personality that was Cameron Phillips. Another sigh left his lips after the chip was safely lying on a clean cloth. He now finally picked it up with his hand and thoroughly inspected it. He couldn't find any physical damage apart from the one he already knew to be there since the car bomb explosion. Taking a soft brush from the box, he began to carefully clean it. He didn't want to haste anything, so he took his time with cleaning and after about 15 minutes and few changes of cleansing tools, he was finally satisfied.
Now he picked up a small flashlight and checked the port itself for any possible damage, moisture or dirt. Something beside the port, that he didn't notice before caught his attention. A small object, located just at the port, which, as he could remember wasn't there the last time he saw her port. In a sudden recognition his eyes widened uncontrollably. Damn! It's the explosive she planted there to kill her should she go bad again. He leaned back and subconsciously reached under his shirt to take the detonator in his hand. For a second his palm enveloped the watch housing. Without warning, his head jerked aside. No! I can't allow it! I won't allow it!
He reached for the explosive and probed how it was fixed to her skull. After seeing that it was only glued, he carefully tore it away and removed any remains of it from the skull. He straightened again and with slightly inclined head admired his work. That's right now! I cannot allow you to sacrifice yourself! Not for me, not for anyone! He suspected that she might not be exactly satisfied with what he just did, but shrugged at the thought. I'll deal with it if it comes up.
Few minutes later, after he thoroughly inspected the port itself, he was satisfied that everything was obviously OK. For a second he lifted his head and looked towards the kitchen door to see his mother, still leaning on the doorframe, looking at him worriedly. He gave her a small, pained smile and nodded. She just nodded back without saying anything. She knew better than to disturb him now.
His look returned to the chip and with a ragged breath, he picked it up with pliers and carefully inserted it in the port and turned it clockwise. Then he screwed on the covering cap and waited. He leaned back and gazed intently at Cameron's distorted face. Oh god, how terrible she got hurt. And it's all because of me; all because I've been such an idiot.
He waited impatiently, holding his breath and hoped that everything would be all right. The seconds seemed like an eternity to him and he felt how his relentlessness grew with each passed second.
He almost lost track of time as he saw a slight twitch of her head and in next second he could hear the soft whirring sound, announcing that she was coming back online. The last few second before she opened her eyes were the longest ones in his life. Then her head jerked up and her eyes, one intact and one heavily burnt, opened abruptly. She needed few seconds before refocusing and her eyes rested on his face. In that very moment he realized that he was too close to her, should anything be wrong. But he dismissed the thought. She wouldn't hurt him!
"John?" Her quiet voice was the most beautiful music for John's ears.
"Yeah, Cameron? Are you OK?" He smiled at her, but a small twinge of fear still remained.
Cameron remained silent for a long second and answered: "I'm not 100%. My organic sheath had been damaged." Her hand jerked up to her face and missing hair. After she felt what was there, she suddenly looked horrified. "What … what happened?"
John was now beaming at her. She was his Cameron, she was OK and she would heal. He launched herself at her and enveloped her in a hug without thinking. The hug lasted for few seconds only and she didn't return it. After he finally realized that he was hugging her … really hugging her … he let go of her awkwardly and looked into her completely stunned face. Her eyes were bigger than he'd ever seen them before and he coughed while looking down: "I'm sorry Cameron. I shouldn't have done it." But his heart was saying something differently.
Then he sighed and looked into her face again: "I don't know what happened. I found you lying on a driveway seemingly dead. I guess that you've got hit by the lightning." His eyes lingered on her face and worry crept into his voice: "Will those terrible burns heal?"
Cameron's face now returned back to normal and she nodded: "Yes. I estimate that I'll be back to normal in three days, four hours and twenty minutes."
John grinned at her: "Good!" Then he got serious again: "You really scared the hell out of me. Don't ever do anything like that again."
"Like what?" Cameron tilted her head in that annoyingly cute gesture of hers.
Just few hours ago, John's face would darken at the sight, but now he grinned again and admitted to himself that he liked it. "Like running out in the storm."
Cameron hung her head, just like an ashamed girl would do, but only a second later she looked into his eyes resolutely again: "But I have to check the perimeter."
John shook his head in dismay: "Not when the perfect storm is above us."
"Are you all fixed, tin miss?" They both forget about Sarah, who now left her position at the doorframe and joined them.
Cameron looked at John's mother and answered: "Not completely. My sheath will have to heal."
"I see that. I meant if you're … you know … you?" Sarah was eyeing her suspiciously.
Cameron fixed her with her undamaged eye and it was obvious that she didn't understand the question: "Of course. I always am me."
John snorted, relieved, that she was almost back to normal: "She meant if there's anything wrong with your programming."
Cameron paused for a second and then looked at John: "My programming is intact." Then she gave him a ghost of a smile: "Thank you for explaining."
Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes: "I'm glad that you're OK." She turned to John: "I see that you have everything under control. I'm going to bed now." She turned and left them.
John was still looking at Cameron and his heart ached at seeing her injuries. Almost subconsciously he reached for the damaged half of her face and his hand remained hanging in the air as Cameron slightly flinched before he could touch her.
He looked at her in surprise, not understanding why she flinched. He saw how she almost looked ashamed: "Is something wrong Cameron?"
"I don't want you to see me like this." Cameron almost whispered without looking at him.
John was astonished. She never before displayed such behavior. It was something he would never expect from her. He bowed to look at her face from down under and smiled at her. Her good eye finally looked at him. "I don't care how you look, Cameron. I'm just happy that you're as far OK and that nothing worse happened to you." He paused and straightened up. He noticed that Cameron's head finally followed him. "I was worried to death as I saw you lying there. I thought I lost you."
Cameron was looking at him astonished: "But … you hate me? You said you don't want to look at me again."
Now it was John's turn to look at the floor and blush. She didn't accuse him of being such an ass, she just stated the facts. And that hurt him more than it would hurt, should she yell at him or give him a cold shoulder. But she just repeated his statement with her childlike naivety. He looked at her disfigured face again and saw how she looked at him with completely shocked face. He swallowed hard: "I said many things that I didn't really mean before. I'm so sorry for saying such things to you Cameron. You didn't deserve to be the target of my frustration."
Cameron fixed him with her good eye and searched his face. She couldn't see anything else but true remorse and relieve.
Her gaze caused John to blush even more intensive. But then he remembered how often she lied to him and he felt that it was perhaps the moment to come clear with that too: "But you shouldn't lie to me anymore. I know …" He sighed and stopped her with raised hand, for he saw how she already opened her mouth to speak. "You only lie when the mission requires." He saw her nodding. "But that still doesn't make it right. You see, Cameron, trust is something very important, perhaps most important issue in a relationship between two persons. No matter the nature of their relationship." He sighed and put his hand over Cameron's hands, which were lying neatly folded in her lap. "I want to trust you Cameron, I really do. But you'll have to stop lying to me. If there's really something that you cannot tell me, then rather say that you can't tell me. Just … don't lie to me anymore, OK?"
TBC