quietus | inspector boxer

act 4

John stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Felicia had wrapped his ribs and sent him away to get dressed, but his shirt was still in a pile at his feet, leaving the ugly mottling of bruises on his chest and arms in full display. His mother had always seemed to ignore her injuries, as if acknowledgment would give them power over her, but John studied his, morbidly fascinated by the evidence of the beating Vaughn had given him.

Brutal was the best word John could find to describe it. Physically, verbally, and emotionally brutal, and he half wondered how he was still on his feet after everything the last twenty-four hours had inflicted on him. For all the crap he’d been through in his life, John had never been so coldly and deliberately hurt, tortured, really, for information on his mother. Tortured the way Sarkissian had tortured her, until John had made him stop.

If he let himself, John could still remember the way the man’s neck had felt under his fingers, and the anger and guilt that had followed. Anger at his mother for not being able to protect him, and guilt for being the reason men like Sarkissian were in their lives.

Last night Sarah had killed for him, the way John had killed for her. It should have balanced things between them somehow, but they had come too far to go back to the way they used to be. She’d saved his life, and Danny’s, and when her own life had hung in the balance, when John Henry’s gun had pointed straight at her heart, it wasn’t John who had taken the bullet meant for her, it was Sierra.

So far he was two for two in being utterly useless in life-or-death situations.

Shaking his head and flipping off the bathroom light, John picked up his shirt and slipped it on before he wandered in a daze back into his mother’s room, sitting down on the edge of her bed. Seeing how much pain Sierra’s death had brought her made his guts twist, and John ached to be able to do something to fix it, any of it, for her, but he was as helpless to take away her grief as he had been to stop Vaughn, or save Sierra, or hold onto Allison’s hand...

Almost shaking with fatigue, John tucked a finger in the bandage around his ribs, wincing a little at the pain and feeling light-headed from breathing so shallowly. The wrapping helped, though, and John was grateful for it. Felicia had done a much better job taping his ribs than he’d managed on his own. He wasn’t happy that the doctor had been drawn into their mess, but she was proving to be a useful ally. John only hoped it wouldn’t mean her death, as it had for so many others before her.

Sighing, John eased back on the bed, bracing against the pain as his injuries bitterly protested the movement until the mattress welcomed his weight. He stared at the muted streaks of sunlight splaying across the ceiling and wondered if his mother was at the beach by now. He hoped she was finding some solace there... that Savannah would be able to give her the peace he couldn’t. Closing his eyes, John felt his thoughts drift to the one topic he least wanted to think about.

Allison.

She’d lived and loved before he was born. His only chance for happiness with her had been in a future that would never be. She’d won the time machine lottery, found a life free of machines, but her escape had taken her far out of his reach.

It made sense, John realized morosely. The only way for someone he loved to be happy was to be as far away from him as possible.

With a sigh that sent a sharp stab into his gut, he tried to let go of the memories, to let go of her. He was destined to be alone, he told himself, cataloguing all the people who had died for or because of him. Nobody could last in his world, except him, his mom, and the machines. It was time he accepted that and hardened himself the way his mother had hardened herself, the way she’d been trying to teach him for years.

It was never safe. Not for them, and not for anyone who cared about them. John just wished it didn’t hurt so damned much.

A light tap on the door spared John from further thoughts, and he ran a hand over his face to wipe the few tears that lingered. He sat up gingerly. “Who is it?”

“Ellison.” The former agent cracked the door open and peered inside. “Did I wake you?”

John shook his head. “What’s up?”

“We need to decide what we’re doing about John Henry before your mother gets back.”

Raking a hand through his short, chopped hair, John eased his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. He’d barely given John Henry a thought since they’d gotten back from the airline hanger, his mind too full of what he’d lost to think about anything else. “Mom told you to burn him?” he guessed.

James nodded as he leaned in the open doorway. He could still hear Sabine quietly moving around in Savannah’s room down the hall and wondered if the young woman would appreciate it if he checked on her when he was done here. Somehow he doubted it.

“So why haven’t you?” John asked, openly appraising the other man.

“Your mother is... single-minded, when it comes to the machines. She might not be seeing the bigger picture,” James explained. His thoughts drifted to the one notable exception, remembering how hard Sarah fought to keep Cameron with her, and he wondered what John would have said if he had seen it. He wondered what John thought of the argument downstairs, but he refrained from asking.

“You think she’s wrong?” John wondered with a sigh.

James pursed his lips and gave it some thought. “Normally I would say no.” He studied John sitting in the shadows, frowning at the young man’s slumped posture and defeated air. “But sometimes, you need to be able to think like your enemy. Get inside their heads. Your mom can’t do that... not like you can.”

John straightened a little and looked at the former agent again. “You really think John Henry is worth saving?”

“No,” James answered honestly. “But I can’t help but wonder why he did what he did.”

“Danny does, too,” John admitted, his eyes distant as he returned his gaze to the floor.

“What do you think?” James wanted to know.

“What do I think?” John said on a bitter laugh. “I think that whatever I think is always the wrong thing to do.”

“Maybe if you stopped trying to prove that you’re a leader and just started acting like one that wouldn’t be a problem.”

John’s head jerked up at the rebuke, but James’ voice was mild and kind. He stared at the older man, considering his words. “You think I’ve done things against my mother just to prove a point?”

“Haven’t you?” James shouldered off the doorway and stood straight once more, meeting John’s eyes carefully as the young man bit his lip and looked away.

For a second, John sat, still slouched and beaten, before his shoulders squared and his head lifted, and Ellison caught a glimpse of the leader, the man, he had the potential to become. “Your call, John,” he said slowly and meant it, ready to fight Weaver off with everything he had if necessary.

“Leave him,” John murmured, staring at his hands and remembering Allison’s fingers slipping through them. Louder, more decisively, he added, “We should know.”

“Your mother...” James began, hating himself for the relief that bloomed in his chest at John’s answer.

“I’ll talk to her.” John took a deep breath, wincing at the sharp stab in his ribs before setting aside his pain and fatigue. He would rest later. “We don’t have what we need here to look at the chip. We’ll need to go back for our computers.”

“Vaughn... Kaliba...” James reminded him. “They might be watching the place.”

John winced. “It’s a risk,” he admitted. “But we can’t study John Henry’s chip with a magnifying glass and a screwdriver. We need what we had in that lab.”

“You could buy new equipment.”

John shook his head, ending whatever else James was going to say. “That took weeks to collect; if we’re doing this, then we need to do it now. Weaver is still out there, and I’m not going to torture my mother by keeping John Henry lying around any longer than absolutely necessary.” He left out the fact that he doubted anyone but Cameron could stop his mother if she decided to destroy the machine herself, especially since Cameron would probably be cheering her on. “We want answers? We start tonight.”

James nodded, making his decision and committing to it after no more than a moment’s debate. “What do you need?”

“You, your gun, and Danny. We’ll start there.”

****

The surf struck her legs, wave after wave finding Cameron as unmovable and fixed as the bluffs behind her. Unable to relax, she kept scanning the beach and sea, looking for threats in every hill of sand, every seagull, and even the water itself. Compulsively, even neurotically, her gaze kept coming back to Savannah, splashing just off the shore, and Sarah, watching the child from the porch.

They were both painful reminders of what was and what might have been. Pain, raw and unrelenting, buffeted her worse than the wind, and Cameron wondered if it would ever end. A part of her wanted to wallow in that pain, but she didn’t dare. Weaver could be close. She could be plotting to take Savannah from them, and Cameron would be damned if she lost her child again.

Her child.

The words made her pause. Cameron had never projected this path for herself. When she had been choosing the modifications she would make to her systems, contemplating whether or not to disable the controls that prevented her from feeling the full spectrum of emotions and sensations, she hadn’t imagined that it would lead to this.

Against all odds, she and Sarah had raised a child together, helping forge an amazing woman and a formidable leader. Logically, Cameron knew they hadn’t been perfect, they must have made mistakes along the way, but she had seen enough to know that Sierra had loved them both deeply, even giving her life for Sarah’s. But she knew Sierra’s sacrifice had been more than the simple act of saving Sarah’s life.

When she’d nearly lost Sarah to the infection in her arm, Cameron had tasted madness. She knew Sarah dying would decimate her psyche. She did not, and never would have, a human’s ability to cope with that kind of pain and remain sane. It was a dark fear that hovered on the edges of her awareness with every mission, knowing that Sarah might be taken from her forever. Savannah had been there when that madness had led to the destruction of their kitchen, and she had reached the cyborg through the fear when nothing else could. She had known, somehow, how fragile Cameron really was. Sierra must have known it too. In taking the bullets meant for Sarah, their daughter had saved them both.

Cameron just wished there was a way to thank her for that.

A giggle drew Cameron’s attention and she came back to herself as Savannah ran down the beach toward her. For a moment, she could see Sierra in the child once more. Even with all the changes time would bring, they had the same bright copper hair and the same vivid blue eyes. 

Savannah launched herself at Cameron, and she had no choice but to catch her. Distracted, Cameron hadn’t been paying attention to the child’s trajectory or speed, and she was startled when Savannah’s carefully plotted course and aim took her off her feet just as the tide came in. The water rushed over them, and Cameron tasted salt on her tongue and felt it sting her eyes before the wave retreated, leaving them both in a tangled, sodden heap on the beach.

Savannah crowed triumphantly, and Cameron was powerless not to feel her dark mood lift a little at the sound.

“I’m hungry,” Savannah declared without preamble or apology.

Cameron wrapped the child up in her arms and got to her knees as another, smaller wave brushed past them. “It’s time for dinner,” Cameron agreed, checking her internal clock and deciding they were within an acceptable range of the usual time for the meal.

“Why are you all the way down here? Why didn’t you come swim with me?”

“I can’t swim,” Cameron said, consciously offering an answer only to the second question. Savannah wasn’t old enough to understand her answer to the first; Cameron wasn’t sure she would understand it herself. 

“I could teach you.”

Getting her feet under her, Cameron got up as the tide came in again. “You could, but I’m too heavy to float.”

“Boats float,” Savannah argued stubbornly.

Cameron paused, wondering if she should feel inadvertently offended by the comparison. “Do I look like a boat?” she asked, forcing her tone to remain light.

Savannah giggled again. “You look more like a pirate.”

“Pirate Queen Cameron.”

Cameron glanced up, surprised to see Sarah a mere few feet away, and watching them both with a weak smile. “But I don’t have my eye patch anymore,” she replied, feeling the tight icy core of pain at her center warming at Sarah’s nearness.

****

Sarah had been watching them from the porch, feeling the setting sun bake her bare shoulders where her tank top offered little protection. The burn reddening her skin was nothing next to the searing ball of anger in her chest. Still, when Savannah tackled Cameron into the surf, sending up arcs of cold seawater and a triumphant peal of laughter, Sarah felt herself drawn to them.

Without giving it conscious thought, she left her self-imposed solitude on the porch and headed for the downed pair, her steps muffled by wind and sand. The use of Cameron’s old nickname startled them both. Like her descent to the beach, Sarah hadn’t planned her words. She hadn’t intended to say anything at all, much less tease the terminator.

“I still have it somewhere,” Sarah admitted, taking a moment to marvel at her own blindness. She should have known she was in trouble the moment she’d decided not to discard the memento.

The gratitude in Cameron’s expression was almost her undoing, as she grabbed onto the tiny bit of kindness like a drowning woman reaching for a life preserver. Misery was shot through the Cameron’s thin smile; it was Sarah’s pain magnified a hundredfold. Cameron had never been through anything like this, Sarah realized. She didn’t know how to cope with loss, didn’t know from experience that time would dull the pain, that the memories would fade, and that, eventually, there would be happiness again.

“You have to play pirate with me,” Savannah announced, wrapping her arms around Cameron’s neck and holding on tight. Sarah felt the ice around her heart melt just a little when the innocent gesture almost drove Cameron to tears. Clutching after that insulating numbness, Sarah cursed her jumbled and confused emotions. She had wanted Cameron to hurt, to feel the pain of Sierra’s loss, and the blow of her own betrayal, but she also wanted to wrap Cameron in an embrace and take all of her pain away.

“Another time,” Cameron promised, soothing Savannah’s damp hair back from her forehead. “You need to eat.” She risked a glance at Sarah, trepidation on her face when she added, “You both do.”

Sarah bristled at Cameron’s concern, but she was unwilling to provoke another confrontation like the one back at the house, so she simply nodded. She knew Cameron had done the wrong thing for all the right reasons, but Sarah wasn’t ready to forgive and forget so easily, no matter how much she wanted to.

Sarah focused her gaze back on Savannah, shivering in the breeze as the sun sank. The little girl wasn’t theirs by birth, but fate had placed her in their arms. There had been no regret in Sierra’s eyes as the life had faded from them, but the childhood she remembered, the past she had been willing to die for, had been wiped away, and Sarah was afraid Cameron’s choice had damned all three of them.

It didn’t seem fair.

To anyone. 

Cameron set Savannah down and the little girl began skipping happily down the beach towards the house, kicking up little puffs of sand with every hop. Cameron followed more slowly, walking heavily, as if she were feeling the weight of the metal under her skin. She glanced back at Sarah, to see if she was coming, and when Sarah met her gaze she felt the tug of that damnable connection between them urging her on. She was helpless against the compassion that was welling up and threatening to put out the fire of her anger.

Her fingers brushed Cameron’s as she drew even with the terminator, and Cameron stopped dead in her tracks when Sarah extended the touch, their joined hands between them like a lifeline. Sarah ached at the trembling of a grip that could bend iron, but when she didn’t pull away, Cameron tightened her hold, clinging to Sarah as if by touch alone Sarah could lead her back to a place and time she had lost. 

“It gets easier,” Sarah promised her, unable to maintain her silence in the face of the uncertainty and longing in Cameron’s eyes. “The grief... the loss... it gets easier. Fades more with time.” She hoped she was telling the truth. Cameron had perfect recall. It was possible that her pain wouldn’t fade with the memories of Sierra, but for now, Sarah let go of her resentment long enough to hope it would. But it wasn’t forgiveness, not yet, and Sarah wondered if she was being cruel or kind, offering this much comfort when her own emotions were such chaos. Either way, she couldn’t take it back now.

Cameron searched familiar green eyes, feeling something inside of her ease when she found them empty of accusations. It wouldn’t last, Cameron knew Sarah well enough to know this was a temporary respite, but it helped. “How... how do you function until then?” she asked, hating the knowledge that if anyone would know the answer it was Sarah.

Shaking her head, Sarah took a slow breath, breathing in the sand, surf, and Cameron’s wet skin. “You just do, girlie. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other.” Reluctantly, she let go of Cameron’s hand, missing the warmth and connection instantly. As much as her better judgment was telling her she needed to end things between them, Sarah wasn’t sure she could let go. She wasn’t sure she wanted to, even if she could, even after everything. However much pain Cameron caused her, Sarah suspected it would pale beside the pain of losing her.

The glimmer of light in Cameron’s eyes muted at the loss of Sarah’s touch, but she nodded, thankful for whatever comfort Sarah had to offer, and turned to follow Savannah’s footprints back to the house. Sarah could see Savannah waiting for them on the porch, wrapped in a large beach towel. She waved, and Sarah waved back, forcing a smile onto her lips despite her heavy thoughts. Even if she was prepared to let Cameron go, could they walk away from this? Could they walk away and deprive that little girl of a family? The family Sierra had given her life to save?

Swallowing, Sarah trudged through the sand, keeping her eyes averted from Cameron’s silhouette as she made her way to the house.

****

James hesitated at the door, startled by the bloodshed that greeted him, but John moved past the dead bodies as if they weren’t there. For once when James looked at him, he didn’t see a boy fighting with his mother but, instead, a soldier trained to deal with death as a part of life. John did hesitate over Vaughn’s corpse, a fleeting look of anger and regret flickering over his features before he knelt and searched the man’s pockets. Finding a keycard and wallet, he took both.

“Might be useful,” John told Ellison when he spied him watching.

James nodded but he felt a little sick. He hadn’t smelled this much blood and death since his fellow agents had been gunned down around him. Reminded of the face that had ended their lives, James straightened and moved toward a table of computers Danny was hurriedly packing. “What do you need me to do?”

Danny glanced up, and then looked to John mutely.

“Stand guard,” John said simply, bolstered by Danny’s automatic assumption of his authority. “We can get what we need faster if you don’t get in the way.” He offered the former agent a tight smile to take the sting out of his words. “Besides, someone might come looking for them.” He stepped over a dead body, driving his point home.

“They would have been here by now.” James shook his head at a trained FBI agent taking orders from a green boy, but nevertheless, he backed up toward the door, his hand resting on the butt of the weapon clipped to his hip. “Vaughn struck me as a man who’d act outside the company line.”

John glanced back at the dead man, remembering his words, remembering how he had wanted to make his mother suffer. He swallowed before his fingers began deftly unhooking cables. “Just keep watch. We don’t need any more surprises today.”

Danny kept himself wrapped up tightly in his work as he stacked computer components onto the sled they’d brought for the purpose, his eyes averted from the bodies to focus on the tech. It was easier than he expected, the smell nauseating but bearable so long as he kept working. His hands moved fluidly over the connectors and keyboards, feeling a kind of peace wash over him for the first time since Vaughn had broken down the door. This was his place, this was his work.  He belonged here with the wires and circuit boards, and he wondered if anyone understood that, even his mother.

They were all so blind to the possibilities, to what he could do, to what the technology could do. Even John was blinded by his mother’s superstitions. Sarah Connor’s fear of technology, her unwillingness to understand it, would end them all. Her vision of the future did not have to happen, Danny was sure of it. Artificial intelligence was something they could work with, not against, but no one in this ragged band of terrorists agreed with him, even the one made out of metal. They’d made an exception for Cameron, and Danny wondered how they justified that to themselves.

Everyone, even his own mother, defended Cameron’s presence among them, as if they didn’t realize she was a walking weapon with no one’s hand on the trigger. They didn’t see how she looked at him, how she threatened him. She only let him live so long as he was useful, and he didn’t hold out much hope that anyone, even his own mother, would try to stop her if she deemed him a risk.

He set the last component on the sled and glanced around the room, finally focusing on the bodies of the men Sarah Connor and her pet terminator had killed. It could just as easily be him sprawled dead in his own blood if Cameron chose to put him there.

Watching John strap the equipment tight to the sled, Danny wondered if he could trust him. John didn’t seem as blind about Cameron as everyone else, and he listened. But ultimately John was nothing but another body on the floor. He couldn’t stand up to Cameron, even if he wanted to. The terminator had made no secret of the fact that she answered to no one but Sarah, and Sarah Connor wasn’t going to protect him. 

Once they got the sled to the van, Danny and John quickly and efficiently loaded the essential equipment while Ellison continued to keep watch. Tension crept up the back of his neck as he scanned the area. He was sure Weaver was there, ensuring that they were doing as they were told, but the garage was silent and still.

“What are you doing?” James asked when John hefted a backpack out of the back of the van and headed back toward the building.

“What has to be done,” the young man replied. “Give me two minutes.” John unzipped the bag and reached inside, feeling his fingers close around the clay-like substance inside before encountering the telltale metal of a detonator.

“John...” James murmured in warning, his voice low.

Danny lingered, watching John uneasily as he realized what he was about to do.

John turned back and looked at them. “Those computers could lead back to all of us. Our prints are in there. We didn’t have time to do this before, but we should do it now.” His features hardened. “Wait for me in the van.”

Danny hesitated a moment longer before complying, sliding open the back door and crawling inside. James stood his ground, watching John return to the building. This felt wrong, even if James knew John was right. They had to do this, but the thought made him sick.

James lowered his head and whispered a prayer for the souls of the men inside. Even Vaughn’s name passed his lips before he lifted his head and scanned the parking lot again for any more signs Weaver might be lurking.

True to his word, John emerged a few minutes later. James followed him back to the van as the younger man got behind the wheel. When they reached a safe distance, John didn’t hesitate to flip the switch. His features were cold and blank, and John kept his gaze on the road. Danny kept his head down, wincing at the sound behind them.

James watched the fireball leap toward the night sky in his rearview mirror. He knew he was on the right side, the just side, but at the moment, it didn’t feel like it.

****

When Sarah opened her eyes, it was to darkness. She eased up in an unfamiliar bed, her hand automatically reaching out for Cameron’s warmth only to tangle in cold, empty sheets. It took a moment for reality to return, but when it did, it hit her like a sucker punch.

But there was a thin layer of insulation now between her and the pain, like a wound beginning to scab over. Sleep had afforded her just the smallest bit of distance between her thoughts and her emotions, distance she’d needed desperately.

Her senses reached out for Cameron much like her hand had moments ago. Sarah could feel her, hovering nearby, a silent, protective specter on the fringes of her awareness.

The sound of small, socked feet shuffling across the wood floor made her turn her head. She could just make out Savannah coming out of the bathroom, rubbing her eyes and swaying like she was still half asleep. Giraffe clutched tightly in one hand, she climbed back into the bed and snuggled into Sarah’s willing arms with a yawn that ended on a sigh of contentment, the sound bringing the faintest of smiles to Sarah’s lips. The clock on the wall ticked away the late hour as they lay next to each other, the sound of distant footfalls on the porch reassuring them both that Cameron was close.

After a few minutes, Sarah realized Savannah had yet to slip back into slumber. “You okay?” she asked the child.

Savannah hesitated before slowly nodding against Sarah’s chest.

“You sure?” Sarah prompted. She’d never been very good at talking the traumatic things out with John, and she’d only recently come to realize how much damage that had caused. She hated the mistakes she had made with John, but she was determined to learn from them this time around, to be better with this child who was becoming more and more like her own every day.

“John said the woman who died was family.”

The simple statement made Sarah swallow hard. A strange sense of pride followed. “He did, did he?” she asked, hearing her voice catch.

Savannah nodded again.

Sarah slipped her arms around the child and drew her closer. “She was. She is,” she amended softly after a moment.

“She called you mom.”

Tilting her head at the note of jealousy in Savannah’s voice, Sarah smiled thinly. “There are some families you’re born into and some you make for yourself. Does that make sense?”

Savannah gave it some thought. “Am I family?” she whispered.

Sarah felt the return of the unwanted burn of tears, a few escaping to roll down her cheeks and catch in the child’s hair as she leaned over to kiss her on the head. “Absolutely,” she promised.

It didn’t seem like much to offer, but Sarah felt some of the tension ease from Savannah’s body, and the little girl snuggled closer. When Sarah lifted her gaze toward the door, she wasn’t surprised to see Cameron lurking, the terminator watching over them both.

Their gazes met, but this time when Sarah looked at her in the thin light from hallway, she really took her in, seeing the slump of the terminator’s shoulders and the exhaustion in the lines around her eyes. Cameron was suffering worse than anyone over Sierra’s death, and Sarah felt ashamed that she had ever wished more pain on her lover.

Sarah almost reached out a hand and beckoned to her, suddenly wanting Cameron with them, wanting her family together and whole with an intensity that shook her.

Her family.

Earlier she had thought about how all of this would impact Savannah, hiding from any real consideration of what it might mean for herself. She couldn’t deny the pull that she felt through the anger and pain, the raw need for the comfort that only Cameron could provide. The thought of losing Cameron completely opened up a fresh agony that made her call out to Cameron just as she was turning away.

“Cameron? Everything all right out there?” Sarah asked, her voice hoarse.

“Fine,” Cameron said slowly, turning back to Sarah, her fingers resting on the doorframe lightly. “Is... everything okay in here?”

Sarah nodded. “Better,” Sarah admitted, hearing a truth lend weight to her words.

A heartbeat passed and Cameron hesitantly nodded before turning to walk away.

“Cameron,” Sarah heard her voice break on the name and she cursed herself and her need for this woman, wishing her emotions could be straightforward for once. It hurt to see the terminator, and it hurt to watch her walk away. “You... you don’t have to go.”

Cameron took in a very real and very ragged human breath. “I need to patrol. I need to keep you both safe.”

Before Sarah could protest, Cameron was gone, her boots thumping softly as she headed back outside. Sarah frowned, sensing there were more layers to Cameron’s emotions than just grief and misery.

“Cameron seems so sad,” Savannah murmured.

“She is,” Sarah confessed, distracted by how badly she wanted to follow Cameron outside. “I’ll bet you can cheer her up in the morning.”

“Really?” Savannah asked dubiously.

“Really,” Sarah promised, drawing her closer. As the child in her arms drifted back to sleep, Sarah thought about the woman buried on the bluffs behind the house. Some part of her almost wondered if being this close to Sierra was influencing her judgment... like her daughter was reaching out from beyond the grave to ensure Sarah was honoring her last request.

Don’t be mad...

All of this had been Sierra’s choice. Cameron had been honoring a promise for the sake of a daughter who was convinced she had only a short time left to live. Sarah wondered what she would have done in the terminator’s shoes, and she closed her eyes as the answer came to her in the darkness.

Sarah had a choice of her own to make now.

****

A gentle touch skimmed the side of Sarah’s face, drawing her up out of uneasy dreams. Her green eyes reluctantly blinked open and she found herself looking up at Cameron, the terminator’s fingers still warm on her cheek where they rested so softly that the touch almost didn’t seem real. For a moment, everything was right again, and Sarah couldn’t help but lean into the touch, feeling it heal some of the rawness left inside her.

Cameron studied Sarah’s face, amazed that such simple contact between them could affect her so much. For a long moment, they remained frozen in place, both afraid to move or speak. Reluctantly, Cameron pulled her hand away, unsure what emotions might be unleashed if the touch was allowed to continue. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “But there is something on the television you need to see.”

Sarah rose up on one elbow and watched the machine walk away, her cheek still tingling from Cameron’s touch. Slipping out from under the covers, Sarah left Savannah sleeping as she padded barefoot into the small living room. Cameron glanced at her as she arrived before wordlessly adjusting the volume, making it just loud enough for Sarah to hear what the reporter was saying.

Moving closer to the screen, Sarah felt the sudden need to break something when she saw the building where John and Danny had based their operations smoldering in the background. Her gaze cut to Cameron. “Kaliba?”

“I don’t think so,” Cameron said warily.

That left only one other option. “John?”

“They may have gone back to get their computers. John would have made sure...” Cameron broke off, flinching as Sarah turned away.

“What were they thinking, going back there like that?” Sarah hissed, keeping her voice low in deference to the child sleeping in the next room. “For a few computers? They could...” Sarah stopped dead in the middle of the room. “They wouldn’t,” she stated, but her tone sounded less certain.

“They wouldn’t what?”

“John Henry.”

Cameron nodded slowly. There were other possibilities, but she suspected Sarah was right. And there was no arguing with her when she was like this.
  
“Goddamn it.” Sarah abruptly pivoted and stormed out onto the porch.

Cameron hesitated, unnerved by Sarah’s anger, and still unsure of where she stood. She finally followed, smelling rain in the air of the gray, cloudy dawn. “Sarah...”

“Did you know? That they were going back?”

Cameron shook her head. “I would have stopped them. It was too dangerous.”

Hands balling into fists, Sarah fought the urge to hit something as her pacing resumed. “I told them to burn that sonofabitch.”

“They must have had a reason...” Cameron began, not sure she believed it but wanting to calm Sarah down.

“Curiosity,” Sarah said as she rounded on the machine. “Curiosity.” She spat the word. “That’s what built the bombs. The computers. It’s what created Skynet. It’s what created the machine that destroys the world. You know as well as I do that John and Danny needed answers. I guess it doesn’t matter what price everyone else pays to get them.”

Cameron considered John’s motivations. “John Henry tried to kill you.” Green eyes snapped to Cameron’s features, and the terminator flinched again. “He tried to kill you,” Cameron stressed. “Why?”

“What damn difference does it make?”

“I don’t know,” Cameron admitted. “But it doesn’t make sense. John Henry had no reason or orders to kill you.”

“So Weaver gave him one,” Sarah guessed.

“Maybe.” Cameron came hesitantly closer. “But if Weaver wanted you dead... all she would have to do is come for you.”

The truth was chilling, and they stared at the other for an uncomfortable moment. Sarah finally sighed. The surf sounded unnaturally loud as it pounded ashore behind her. She could feel the beginnings of a major headache brewing behind her eyes.

“I need my phone,” Sarah said, her voice cold and flat.

Cameron nodded once and went to find it.

Sarah rested her arms on the rail and looked out over the churning ocean as she waited, the wind and the waves seeming to mirror her own emotions. She needed answers from John, but right now she didn’t trust herself to talk to him. She would have to go to another source.

****

Terissa lingered at the top of the stairs to the basement, listening to the muted murmur of voices. She knew what they were up to, and she hoped like hell that they knew what they were doing. Especially Danny. Her son was too trusting of things he shouldn’t be, and too enamored with his own vision of technology to understand the dangers. Danny had inherited Miles’ technical mind and vision, but none of his open-mindedness and judgment. She wondered if it was her failing or the circumstance of his father’s death, and why she hadn’t seen it before. Even before he left for college, and then Kaliba, he had been pulling away from her, and she had allowed it to happen, hoping that he would find peace and balance on his own.

She sighed and moved back toward the kitchen, hating the frustration and disappointment she felt toward her own son. Whatever plans she had had for him, for his future, for bringing him here to help Sarah, they weren’t working out. As much as she loved him, as much as she wanted to keep him safe, Terissa was starting to believe Danny would be better off elsewhere. He wasn’t cut out for this life, and he didn’t believe, not like she had come to believe.
  
Her phone buzzed in her hip pocket and Terissa retrieved it, surprised and a little relieved to see Sarah’s number looking back at her from the display. She flipped the phone open and entered the proper code, waiting for Sarah to do the same. “Are you all right?” she asked before Sarah could speak.

“Been better,” Sarah admitted, an edge of anger in her tone. “Can you talk?”

Straightening in surprise, Terissa moved through the house and stepped out onto the back porch, letting the screen door snap shut behind her. “What’s wrong?”

“I saw the news, Terissa.”

Terissa sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand.

“Was it John?” Sarah demanded.

“Yes,” Terissa answered simply. There was no point in lying.

“They’re working on John Henry, aren’t they?”

Terissa could hear the ocean and the rhythmic thump of Sarah’s boots as she paced on something made of wood. “They couldn’t let it be. They needed answers,” she told Sarah, her tone indicated how she felt about that. “John and Danny want to know why it went off its programming.”

“And where the hell is James in all this?” Sarah wanted to know. “I thought he at least had some sense.”

“He went with them.” Terissa sighed again, still not able to understand James’ about-face with regards to the terminator. “He’s worried this somehow ties in with Kaliba... with C.A.I.N.”

“And what if it does?” Sarah wondered. “What difference does it make?”

“I don’t know,” Terissa confessed. “But John seems to think it matters. Do you want to talk to him?” She felt a presence and turned her head to see the subject of their conversation on the other side of the screen door. John was watching her guardedly but he said nothing.

“No,” Sarah said, her voice roughening with the admission. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“Sarah,” Terissa said, her tone even. “It’s not my place to be the go-between. You need to speak to him.”

“I... can’t, not right now.” Terissa could tell by the way John’s gaze dropped that he could hear his mother, could even hear the anger and hurt in her voice. “Tell him,” Sarah continued, “Tell him to get that machine out of my house. They can play detective all they want, but I won’t have the thing that killed Sierra around Savannah. Is that clear?”

John nodded, reacting to his mother’s words. “We’ll move him,” he said quietly before turning away.

“I’ll let you know when he’s gone,” Terissa promised as she watched John walk away, praying that it was a call she could make soon.

****

The morning had lightened to a paler shade of grey that had lasted most of the day. Sarah stared out into the ocean, smelling the scent of the coming rain and feeling the roughening wind whip at her hair and clothes. The weather suited her darkening mood. After getting off the phone with Terissa, she had taken a run on the beach, needing to burn off some of her anger before Savannah woke up. Cameron hadn’t looked happy, but she’d let her go, and Sarah had felt her lover’s eyes on her back as she’d jogged away.

The rest of the day had been spent in the water or building sandcastles with Savannah. As if she sensed the schism between them, the child had demanded that Sarah and Cameron be there for every moment of it. At first, Sarah had bristled at Cameron’s proximity, her anger tempering the compassion she had felt the night before, but her nearness had slowly worn down Sarah’s defenses until it felt almost normal to have Cameron’s shoulder brush against her own. Sarah had almost leaned back into the touch before she caught herself, standing up abruptly and making an excuse to go back inside. Cameron hadn’t been fooled, and the look in her eyes as Sarah had backed away had torn at her like claws.

Now she stood at the rail on the deck, the setting sun lost behind darkening clouds. The occasional flicker of lightning reached down and danced across the surface of the ocean in the distance. Cameron was lingering with Savannah on the beach, helping the child pack up her toys as the rising tide began tearing down their sandcastles.

Savannah seemed oblivious to the coming storm, and Sarah wished she could keep her that way... wished she could keep her from every hardship that had befallen the woman who’d died in her arms only forty-eight hours earlier. She was tempted to vow that Savannah would never suffer the way Sierra had, but Sarah knew it would be an empty promise. John was proof of that.

As Sarah watched, Cameron stood, her shoulders straightening as she turned and headed for the steps, leaving Savannah behind for the moment as she joined Sarah on the deck.

“The storm could be severe,” Cameron murmured as she arrived. “Do you want to head back to the house or...?”

“Not until that metal bastard is gone,” Sarah cut her off before she could finish. “We can ride it out here.”

Cameron nodded faintly before glancing back at Savannah. The child was almost finished with her toys. She would only have a few moments. “I need to tell you I’m sorry,” she said, determined to say her piece before Sarah could stop her. “I need you to know I did what I thought I had to do.”

Sarah swallowed, but she said nothing.

“I wanted you to know her so badly, and she wanted to see you, but I couldn’t convince her it was the right thing to do. She was certain she was sparing you pain...” Cameron faltered. “And as mad as you must be... as much as you must hate me... I understand now what she was trying to spare you from feeling.” She stepped closer, needing Sarah to at least understand. “I’m not sorry that you don’t feel what I’m feeling.”

The wind whipped between them, cold and damp, filling the thickening silence.

“I don’t hate you,” Sarah said suddenly, needing to get the words off her chest, her confession spoken so softly she wasn’t even sure Cameron detected the words.

But Cameron did, her body angling so subtly toward Sarah that she doubted anyone would notice but her. She was too aware of Cameron now, too aware of every little tick and flicker of inflection. All of them spoke volumes to Sarah, and she ached for what she was on the precipice of losing... of letting go.

“It would be understandable,” Cameron murmured, her tone confused and hesitant.

Sarah nodded. “It would be.” She finally turned her head into the wind, feeling her eyes water as she stared at Cameron, but she didn’t look away. “But nothing about us has ever made sense.”

Cameron’s head tilted as she watched her. “No, it hasn’t,” she agreed. “But I...” The cyborg bit off whatever she was about to say, her gaze casting out toward Savannah and the water.

“But you what?” Sarah prompted.

“I thought we worked anyway,” Cameron concluded. She didn’t dare look at Sarah, her hands coming to rest on the rail.

Sarah watched her as the wind teased strands of Cameron’s hair. She was so goddamn beautiful. Before she even realized what she was doing, Sarah reached out, capturing Cameron’s chin and turning her until their eyes met. Sarah was startled to see the beginning of tears in them.

“I’m sorry,” Cameron managed again, her voice actually roughening on the words. “I wish... I wish I had done things differently. I wish I could have saved her...  saved us... I...”

Cameron’s words tapered off as Sarah slowly drew her into an embrace, their bodies molding together and Sarah’s head falling forward to rest on Cameron’s shoulder. They held each other as the darkness came and the first sprinkles of rain began to fall. Cameron closed her eyes, her fingers stroking Sarah’s hair to smooth out the chaos caused by the wind.

“I’m mad,” Sarah confessed into the curve of Cameron’s neck, “and I’m upset, and I feel betrayed...” She drew in a deep breath and felt Cameron’s arm tighten around her waist. “But I understand.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you... I never wanted...”

Sarah’s fingers on her lips shushed her. “I know,” Sarah breathed.

“I love you,” Cameron whispered into Sarah’s hair as she breathed her in, committing this moment to memory.

Sarah leaned back, seeing the loss and misery in Cameron’s eyes. She touched her cheek, letting her thumb sweep over a sharp cheekbone. When Cameron opened her mouth to speak again, Sarah stopped her. “Not, not now. I can’t.” The weight of the last few days settled on her shoulders, and she sank into Cameron’s body, drawing much needed strength and comfort from the embrace. “We’ll talk, just... not right now.”

She felt Cameron pull her tighter, like a promise, and Sarah allowed herself to trust the physical and emotional bonds they had forged. It still hurt like hell, but she felt that there was the possibility of healing, for both of them. “We’re not done,” she whispered, an answering promise. “It’ll just take time.”

“I understand.”

Sarah eased back to look at Cameron; she looked wild, with her wind-blown hair and red-rimmed eyes. She soothed the hair back from Cameron’s forehead, watching as Cameron leaned into the caress. She looked out, checking on Savannah and feeling relief at the sight of her. “We have a second chance,” she said meaningfully.

Cameron followed her line of sight, watching with both grief and joy as Savannah finished gathering her toys in the pale light from the beach house. “We’re not done,” she repeated, a hint of awe in her voice.
  
One look at Cameron’s eyes and Sarah was convinced that was true. With a brief nod, she turned away, padding in her bare feet down the sand-covered steps and stepping out onto the beach. As she came closer to the responsible little girl collecting her toys in the sand, Sarah could see the similarities between Savannah and the woman she would become in the play of light and shadow across the child’s face. Putting on a brave front, Sarah reached down and scooped up Savannah, toys and all, and drew her in close. “Time for dinner,” she murmured.

Grateful for Sarah’s height as she blocked some of the wind on her damp skin, Savannah snuggled into her, wrapping her arms around Sarah’s neck as the woman carried her back up the beach. She was sleepy more than hungry, and she closed her eyes and tucked her head under Sarah’s chin.

Sarah’s touch felt warm and safe. It made Savannah feel special and precious, and her arms tightened around the woman in a hug. “Love you, mom,” she whispered, realizing too late what she’d been thinking and hadn’t meant to say.

Savannah heard Sarah swallow as they stopped walking, and for a brief moment, she thought Sarah was mad, but then the woman who had come to mean so much to her only shifted her grip and drew her closer.

“I love you, too,” Sarah promised her, her voice too full of emotions a six-year-old couldn’t begin to identify.

“I can call you mom?” Savannah asked in surprise, lifting her head to look at Sarah as Cameron hovered at the top of the porch, watching them intently.

“Do you want to?” Sarah asked, her eyes glistening.

Savannah nodded sagely.

Sarah took a slow, deep breath. “Then mom it is,” she replied, smiling weakly as Savannah threw her arms around her once more and squeezed so hard Sarah could barely breathe. She lifted her gaze to find Cameron’s waiting for her. They stared at each other in the weak light, silently acknowledging the impact of this moment on their lives.

“What about Cameron?” Savannah asked. “Can I call her mom, too?”

Sarah glanced at the child but when she looked back up, Cameron had backed away from the rail, her dark eyes filling with tears. The sight of them hit Sarah like a punch to the gut, but she stayed where she was. “I think she’d like that,” Sarah insisted. She set Savannah down, taking the bucket of toys from around her wrist. “I think Cameron would like a hug, too.”

Savannah happily complied, scrambling up the steps and launching herself at Cameron who had no choice but to catch her and heft her up.

Sarah joined them, running her fingers through bright red hair as her gaze held Cameron’s over the top of the child’s head.

“I don’t...” Cameron began only to fall silent when Sarah shook her head.

“She was a hell of a woman,” Sarah murmured. “In the handful of minutes I knew her I could see that.” She swallowed. “We were responsible for that... and I think we did pretty damn good.”

One tear spilled down Cameron’s cheek. “We did,” Cameron said with conviction, adjusting her grip on Savannah to pull her closer. “We did,” she said again, resting her chin on top of the child’s head. Her child. Hers and Sarah’s. “She’s ours.”

“She’s ours,” Sarah agreed as the long anticipated rain finally began to patter on their clothes and skin. 

“A second chance,” Cameron murmured as she kissed Savannah’s temple, her dark eyes locked with Sarah’s.

copyright: VS creators | credit | contact