a prayer for the dying

act 4

Sarah stood by the stairs, her hand gripping the rail so tightly her knuckles were white. Upstairs, Savannah was sleeping, blissfully unaware of the goings on around her. Downstairs, Catherine Weaver was standing in the middle of the living room, a bare step away from John. Every fiber of her being told Sarah this was wrong, that she should go for the nearest shotgun and keep firing until her family was as far away from that thing as possible.

Fingernails digging into the wood, Sarah held herself in check. They had little choice. They always had little choice when it came to the machines. The very idea of Weaver being invited into the space she had desecrated, where she had tried to take Savannah and tortured Cameron, made Sarah seethe.

But they needed her.

If Weaver could actually help them bring down Kaliba for good, there was no way Sarah could refuse. John understood that; he was far calmer about Weaver’s presence than she was. It was his calm that kept the others in the room as they half-listened to him lay out the revisions to the plan, the ones that included the liquid metal terminator. They all seemed shell-shocked by the presence of Weaver in their midst. All of them knew what Weaver was capable of, but John was the only one able to put that out of his mind and focus on the reality of the situation.

Weaver was right. Kaliba had to be destroyed down to every shred of code, and Sarah knew that in John’s mind, everything meant Cameron as well. It was odd that the idea of Weaver standing in her house was so repellant after she had taken a terminator into her bed. And stranger still that, after all she knew, she was fighting to rescue Cameron, to keep alive the very thing that she’d spent her life trying to stop. The truth made her want to draw her weapon and turn it on herself. Maybe Weaver wasn’t the biggest threat to mankind in the room. Maybe she was. Maybe that’s why she was supposed to die years ago.

But she would have done it all again for Cameron. Every last moment.

Feeling like she didn’t belong and unable to bear Weaver standing in the very spot where Sierra had died, Sarah turned away and walked up the steps. She didn’t see John look back, or his worried frown as his gaze tracked her until she disappeared from sight.

Moving quietly down the hall, Sarah opened Savannah’s door and peered in on the child. They were about to uproot her again. When Ellison had first thrust the little girl into her life, she’d tried her damndest not to get attached, knowing that sooner rather than later, it would come down to this. But even the little girl’s pull, those pleading blue eyes and the pain that Sarah knew she would inflict if she didn’t come home, could not sway her from the path she had chosen.

She would come back with Cameron or she wouldn’t come back at all.

It scared her, what she was willing to do to save a terminator, even at the expense of her children. She had spent her life willing to die, for John, for a chance to save the future, but never for a piece of that future. Never for a machine.

She kept saying that Cameron was more than that, more than a collection of metal and synthetic skin, but when she was being honest with herself, Sarah knew it was simply a justification for being selfish. For once, she was putting her needs before those of her children, before those of all humanity.

She thought about Sierra, her ghost feeling especially close tonight. Sierra had done what she thought was right, denying Sarah a chance to know her, and her decision had caused Sarah great pain. Sarah realized that she was about to do the same thing to Savannah, and the guilt made it difficult to breathe. There were so many ghosts now, so much guilt, all clinging to her, weighing her down. Cameron had made the burden bearable. She’d reminded Sarah that there was more to life than waiting on death.

For that simple reason, Sarah had to save her. She couldn’t go back to that again; she wouldn’t be any good for John or Savannah if she reverted back to the shell of a person she had been.

Drawing in a slow, hurting breath, Sarah took solace in Savannah’s sleeping features. She would give her life for this child, for John, for all of them, and if she played her cards right, perhaps she could come back to them, whole and complete, with Cameron at her side. It was the only way she could continue the fight. It was time for her to live up to her own legacy.

“Forgive me,” Sarah whispered, not sure who the words were really for.

****

Deep down where nobody could see, Cameron was busy. The army of programmers was better than she had expected, faster, quicker at figuring out her defenses and deceits. They were uncovering her secrets, and she was running out of time. Each time a new line of defense was stripped away, Cameron could feel the moment approaching, the moment that she would be used, against her will, to create Skynet. She had promised Sarah that would never happen, and she spent scant seconds she didn’t have trying to figure out a way to apologize.

Her best ally in her fight against the clock was unexpected. One thing distracted the programmers, scared them, slowed them down. When Smieth stepped into the room, fingers slowed, tripped over keys where a second before they had been unerringly accurate. They were afraid of him, and their fear gave her back precious microseconds to shore up her defenses or work on her ultimate program.

She was also working to make them afraid of her. A loose wire in an outlet shorted, and the resulting fire torched the small kitchenette, including the coffee maker and fridge stocked with energy drinks. The code in a diagnostic tool was compromised, slowing the work of the engineers trying to figure out the composition of her exoskeleton. But the time spent on these little distractions was starting to detract from her real mission: her own termination. They would use her, fashion her into Skynet, and she could not let that happen. It had to be destroyed, every last bolt, as Sarah had once said. Every last fragment of who and what she was needed to be wiped from existence. 

Lines of code filled a screen, and the programmer sitting at the desk blinked before jerked back in surprise. He turned and waved to catch Smieth’s eye, and chairs squeaked as his fellow programmers flattened themselves against their desks to get out of the way as Smieth strode through the darkened room.

“What is it?” Bracing himself against the workstation, Smieth leaned in to view the code flowing across the screen. It was incomprehensible to him, and he turned his head to fix the young man with a steely gaze.

The programmer extended a shaky finger, landing on the screen. “It’s a...” he swallowed, feeling Smieth’s eyes boring into him as he struggled with the explanation. “It’s how the AI is... shit!” He shot his chair back, slamming into Smieth and doubling the man over as the monitor strobed white and sparked, the sudden flash of light blinding in the dark space.

Smieth lashed out, his fist catching the programmer above the ear as he struggled to his feet. His fingers dug into the man’s scalp, ignoring the cry of pain as he threw him from his chair and into a rack of computers.

There was a moment of stunned silence after the resulting crash; several monitors blinked out, plunging half of the room into darkness and the incessant clamor of typing ceased. “It was another one of her tricks,” Smieth snarled by way of explanation as he stood over the hapless man. He swung to face the room, his face a mask of anger. “I told you to contain her.”

With an effort, he straightened, his face blank as he glanced around the room. “Clean this up and get those computer back online. Now!” Slowly, the room unfroze, a few of the programmers darting around him to right the metal frame and untangle the mess of cords and computers, leaving the young man alone to stumble to his feet. He had his t-shirt pressed against his nose, trying to stem the tide of blood, and he looked past Smieth toward the door, his uncertainty evident.

“Get cleaned up.” With that, Smieth turned and left the room.

In the aftermath, Cameron worked frantically on the only hope she had left, the program hidden deep within her code. She had bought herself more time, and she couldn’t waste it.

****

Terissa stared out into the night through the kitchen window, watching the moths flitter around the porch light from her place in the shadows. The scent of old coffee clung to the air as she took a deep breath, her nerves jangling from a potent mixture of too much caffeine and fear.

Everything was changing and she felt powerless to stop it. The coming battle was hurtling toward her like a freight train, and Terissa suspected they would all be crushed in its wake. She closed her eyes, listening to the murmur of low voices from the living room. They were making final arrangements to move James and Savannah, and Felicia was loading up the van with supplies. None of them would be coming back here, one way or another.

Her hands shook as she picked up a towel and wiped it across the counter. Before the next 24 hours had passed, Terissa knew down to her marrow that some of those quiet voices in the room behind her would be silenced forever. Sacrifices would have to be made in the name of the greater good, they all knew that. The only thing to be determined was which of them would pay the price.

Thoughts of Danny crowded into her morbid musings, but Terissa refused to give ground and let them in. The thought of dying without seeing her son again made her stomach hurt, but she was equally as afraid to find him working against her... against them all.  Someone had sent a terminator back through time to stop her son, believing that the best thing for humanity’s future was to make sure Danny didn’t have one. Terissa didn’t want to think what kind of monster the resistance had come to believe him to be, what kind of monster she had raised.

“You all right?”

John’s voice, drifting out of the darkness, made Terissa start and drop the towel from her suddenly nerveless fingers. She reached down to retrieve it, but he beat her to it, handing it back to her as she straightened. He regarded her without saying a word, and Terissa knew behind those green eyes lay an old soul who had seen so much more than any young man his age should see. Terissa turned away, unable to bear his scrutiny.

She’d always blamed the Connors for everything, but her family was culpable as well. Her husband and now her son had put learning the secrets of the machines above all else, seeing only the potential and never the risk. Eventually, Miles had realized the error of his ways and tried to stop the horrible future his work had set in motion; Terissa only hoped her son might live long enough to learn the same lesson.

Sensing her thoughts were elsewhere, John turned and started to back out of the room, his boot scuffing on the worn linoleum.

“John.” Terissa swallowed, keeping her eyes on the moths throwing themselves against the light, drawn to the heat that would ultimately destroy them.

He hesitated in the doorway.

“Who am I?” Terissa felt herself growing lightheaded as she took in a shallow breath. “In the future, I mean. Who am I?”

John studied her outline in the darkened kitchen before stepping closer. “Tango.”

The way he said the name sent chills down Terissa’s spine. There was warmth in John’s tone. Fondness.  But it was the underlying note of respect that she wasn’t sure what to do with.

“I’m not that woman,” she felt the need to say.

John drifted closer still. “I see her in you. Her strength. Her compassion. Her wisdom.”

“She was a leader. She knew how to do the right thing.”

Brow furrowing at the doubt in Terissa’s tone, John shifted from one foot to the other. “Yes. A leader. She was... you were... the heart of the resistance movement. You were the rock... the one everyone could turn to... Sierra relied on you. Everyone knew they could depend on you.”

Terissa stood still after he’d spoken, her weight resting heavily on her hands as she braced against the counter and stared out into the night. She could feel him fidget behind her, his boots shuffling on the floor as if he were waiting for her to excuse him.

“And Danny?”

Her question stopped him in his tracks.

“I... he...” John stuttered, and Terissa knew he was searching for a way to say the words that would cause her the least harm.

“I didn’t see him.”

She released the breath she had been holding and nodded. He’d only confirmed what she already known in her heart. There was no place for Danny in the future.

John watched her, sensing he needed to say more but suspecting that Terissa needed to be left alone. He turned back at the door, wanting her to know one thing. “For what it’s worth... I trusted her... and I trust you.”

She finally looked at him again, struck again that he was no longer the boy she’d come to know, but a man, the man burdened with saving them all.

“You should go say goodbye,” Terissa said before turning her attention back on the night and her dark thoughts. She concentrated on her reflection in the glass before her, seeing in her eyes that her decision had been made. Her son was lost, and there was nothing she could do to save him. She had failed him, but he had also failed her, failed to learn the necessary lessons from his father’s death.

Straightening, Terissa dropped the dishrag and left the kitchen. She didn’t have much time if she wanted to be ready.

****

It had taken four of them to maneuver the stretcher down the stairway, and Sarah was thankful that John had been on her end to help. She didn’t imagine that collapsing in a heap would have inspired much confidence in her troops.

She wiped at sweat beading on her forehead, noticing the thin sheen of sweat on Ellison’s face as well. They had tried to keep the jostling to a minimum, but the trip down the stairs had taken its toll on the man nonetheless. She reached down without thinking and caught his hand in hers, feeling a reassuring strength in his grip. So many people had died in her insane fight and she had refused to cry over them, afraid to let her son see her weak. But her eyes teared as she took in the FBI agent who had begun as a threat and had become a strong ally.

Auldridge hastily grabbed a duffle from beside the door and headed to the van to assist Felicia in loading up, sensing that he was intruding. John stepped to the other side of the stretcher, his hand resting lightly on the canvas, and Sabine stood like a statue at his head, hands at her sides.

James looked up at John, taking in the man God had chosen to save them all. He reached out weakly, feeling John’s warm, callused hand as it gripped his own. There was so much he wanted to say, so many words of encouragement he wanted to give the young man, but all James felt was the weight of his own regrets.

John seemed to sense his thoughts. He knelt on one knee, leaning in close as his mother looked on. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” John glanced at his mother who was watching them both intently. “We’ve all made mistakes. You made yours for all the right reasons.”

James winced as pain threaded through him but his grip on John’s hand tightened. “I’ll pray for you... for all of you...”

“Maybe you should save those prayers for yourself.”

John gave his mother a look of reproach. “I’ve got a terminator, a biker gang, a housewife, an FBI agent, and my mother for an army. I think I could use all the prayers I can get.”

A smile made James look more like himself. He nodded and so did John, their gazes silently communicating everything else they had to say.

Sarah took a breath, suspecting that one way or another, their paths would not cross again. No words of gratitude or encouragement would come when James turned his head to look at her. She could see the goodbye in his eyes and the truth of the moment hit her like a kick to the gut. Leaning over, she gently pressed her lips to his forehead, hoping the contact would say everything she couldn’t.

“I’ll pray for you too,” James teased through his pain.

Sarah shook her head as she leaned back, studying his eyes up close. She saw his worries, his regrets, his hopes for her. She wondered if he could read her just as easily. “You do that,” Sarah said dryly. They stared at each other for a moment, their history floating between them. “Goodbye, James.”

“Bring her home, Sarah.”

Nodding, Sarah had to will herself to let go of his hand. It felt like surrendering to his fate and hers, but she slowly released him, sending them both down their now separate paths. It felt like a piece of her soul was shattering inside her.

James turned his attention on Weaver who was watching the exchange in uncomfortable silence. “Don’t hurt them.”

Weaver glanced at the Connors with distaste before her attention drifted back to James.

“Promise me.”

“You would take me at my word?” Weaver came closer, ignoring the way Sarah and John bristled at her nearness.

“Your word is all I have.”

Feeling the Connors eyes on her, Weaver straightened, considering his request. In a strange way, James Ellison was the only ally she’d ever had in this world. There was no logical reason to repay him for that, but logic seemed to have little to do with her choices anymore. “I promise.”

James felt relief wash through him, something in her eyes and voice convincing him that she meant it. “Thank you.”

James felt Sabine’s hand rest on his shoulder for a moment before John and Auldridge rolled the gurney out of the room and into the waiting van. Sarah started to follow them out when she realized Weaver and Sabine were staring at each other.

Sabine dropped her hand to the gun stuck in her waistband, but otherwise didn’t move as the terminator stepped closer. The decision to include Weaver in their plans was not, in Sabine’s mind, a good one, but she had had little say in the matter. But she had made her feelings known; after John’s explanation, she had turned on her heel and left the room, spending the rest of the night and morning with Savannah, a shotgun always within reach.

Weaver canted her head and studied Sabine in the low light, curious about the young woman she’d only observed from afar before now. Sabine’s grip tightened on the gun as she came close, and the terminator noticed, bemused and intrigued by the young woman’s calm. “You won’t need your weapon.”

Sabine said nothing as she stared at the terminator, not backing down as inch as Weaver leaned closer to whisper, “Do you really think you can stop me if I decide to take her?”

Sarah started forward, but John had returned just in time to catch her arm and hold her back as Sabine simply blinked, her eyes promising murder if the terminator attempted her threat.

Nearly nose-to-nose with the young woman now, Weaver smiled. “You’re a quiet one.” There was strength in the girl, but she was merely human, Weaver concluded. Still, Weaver realized she like Sabine’s attitude. The girl was protecting her clan, protecting what she viewed as hers, and that was one thing Weaver had always understood, even before she had acquired emotions.

“I like that.”

Sabine merely watched expectantly, her steely gaze never leaving Weaver. 

“I remember you... in the future. You were loyal. Determined. Willing to die for Savannah.”

Sabine’s nostrils flared at the news. “I still am.”

Nodding once, Weaver graciously gave ground and stepped away. “I can see that.”

Sabine finally moved, stepping forward to brush past the terminator on her way to the stairs and Savannah. She paused when Weaver stepped into her path once more.

“Take care of them.” The terminator’s voice had a vulnerable tone to it that wasn’t lost on either of them.

“Always,” was Sabine’s simple response, the hardness of her features softening in surprise, only to resume a moment later.

****

Slowly the clatter of keys started again, and Danny turned back to his monitor. Cameron had managed to cause yet another disruption, and Smieth’s increasing temper had them all on edge. The other programmers whispered amongst themselves as soon as the door shut, but only Danny knew what they were really dealing with. Only he knew what Cameron truly was, or what people like Smieth were truly capable of, and for a second, his fingers lifted from the keyboard.

Danny hadn’t been in the room when Sarah and Miles had talked; he had only heard secondhand from his mother. All he had known was one minute, a woman was threatening his father with a gun and the next minute, his father was leaving with her, never to return home. He had always wondered what Sarah had said to convince Miles, but now he wondered if his father had simply seen the truth for himself and realized he was on the wrong side. Danny felt a little like that now as his eyes drifted over the room full of programmers to the security guard at the door. They were all dead once they completed the work; there was no way Smieth would let them leave any more than he would use an intelligence like Cameron for anything except his own ambition.

Danny leaned forward, his hands clicking on the keyboard once more. He scanned the lines of code flowing past, catching one and isolating it. His fingers flying, he opened a search window and watched the results slide past. He followed snippets of code down a convoluted path, each a link in a chain leading him past firewalls and defenses until he could see the whole program, complete and unedited. His fingers stopped on the keyboard as he swallowed past a lump in his throat. A quick look over his shoulder confirmed that nobody was paying attention to him, that Smieth hadn’t come back into the room, before turning back to his monitor. He read through the program again, slower. It was Cameron’s, no doubt about it. It wasn’t part of her, but it was her handiwork, dense and complicated and subtle.

It was a killswitch.

His father’s face swam in front of his eyes. Danny remembered the iron smell of blood from the wound in his father’s shoulder, how difficult it was for him to bend over and kiss Danny’s forehead. For the first time, Danny saw past the fear and pain on his father’s face to the determination in his eyes as he said goodbye to his son. His decision was made and he had been at peace, a peace that had eluded Danny his whole life.

Raising his head, Danny caught a glimpse of his reflection in the computer monitor. Gone was the fear and uncertainty, and he suddenly realized that he looked a lot like his father.

He selected a line of code from the program in front of him and modified the command. He paused, waiting, feeling Cameron watching him. The screen blinked once, and he nodded in response.

Danny dove in, losing himself in the code as he modified the core program, his changes making it faster and more efficient. He helped slice off precious microseconds in the program’s execution and targeted key sections of the database.

A window popped up in the corner of his screen with a map overlay. The video feed showed Cameron’s deactivated body lying on a table, a gory flap of skin hanging from her scalp. The map showed the location of the lab and a complicated route that Danny suspected went by a stockpile of explosives.

He nodded again, feeling a sense of calm wash over him. It felt good to be on the right side, for a change.

****

Felicia stepped inside, feeling the cool air dry the sweat on her arms. The early morning sun was already warm.

“You have everything?”

Felicia blinked and turned to find Sarah standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her hand stuffed deep into the pockets of her jeans. The woman looked bone tired and unsteady to the doctor’s eyes, but she’d learn to read the stubborn set of Sarah’s jaw. There was no way Sarah would sit this one out, and Felicia knew she would just insult her if she asked her to. “Everything but my other charge,” she said with a tepid smile.

Sarah dipped her head and came closer, stepping into the light streaming in through the window. “Listen... I’m sorry I ever dragged you...”

“Don’t,” Felicia cut her off. “Don’t apologize.”

Green eyes studied the doctor intently but Sarah remained silent.

“I know I came into this at gunpoint. More than once. But I’m here now because I want to be. Because I believe in your fight. And because you taught me to fight back. If I turned my back on you, I would once again be that scared woman.” She shook her head. “I won’t become her again.”

Sarah’s answering smile was grim. She swallowed, she trying to find the words she needed to say.

“If... if none of us make it back,” Sarah began.

“You will.”

Sarah shook her head. “If none of us make it back,” she insisted. “I just ask that you...” She swallowed again, her voice wavering. “Find someplace safe for her.”

The doctor took an uneven breath, her heart hurting for the other woman. “Savannah will stay with me.”

The tension bled from Sarah’s frame and she actually swayed in place, closing her eyes to steady herself. “You don’t have to do that...”

“I know the woman she’ll become. I want to meet her again.” Felicia took a few steps closer. “Savannah will be safe with me, Sarah.”

“No place is safe.” The words were whispered and broken but Sarah’s eyes were full of fire and determination when she lifted her head and met the doctor’s gaze again. “But thank you. It makes all this... easier... knowing she’s in good hands. Between you and Sabine I know she’ll be all right.”

The words warmed some of the icy fear Felicia had been feeling since waking up that morning. “Of course, it’s easy to make the offer since I believe you’ll be back to claim her before we even get settled in.”

Sarah smiled, her gaze drifting off again. “Make sure she has a happy childhood. God knows I can’t give her one.”

“Sarah...”

“I want her to play in sandboxes. I want her to take ballet... to grow up and go to the prom... to college...”

“You may not have given birth to her, Sarah, but Savannah is your daughter. She’ll grow up how she damn well pleases. Do what she damn well pleases.”

“If we stop Kaliba, maybe she won’t have to be that strong.”

They stared at each other again until Sarah slowly shook her head. “Just...” Tears suddenly gathered in her eyes and she had to look down. “Promise me you’ll take her to the beach from time to time.”

Felicia wanted to protest, to tell Sarah that she would be back for the little girl, but she sensed that Sarah wouldn’t hear her words. So instead she just nodded.

“Thank you,” Sarah whispered.

“Mom.”

John appeared in the doorway, his voice holding a strange mixture of regret and amusement. He jerked his head toward the stairs, and Sarah moved forward, peering around the doorway to find Savannah at the top of the steps, her arms wrapped around a squirming kitten. Sabine stood at her shoulder, an ever-present shadow.

A petulant scowl clouded her young features. She looked more adorable than cross, and Sarah had to take a breath at the thought of never seeing the child again. Savannah stomped down the stairs and glared up at her mother. “I want to go too,” she announced.

“See,” Felicia murmured behind them. “Your daughter.”

For a moment, Sarah was frozen, torn between doing the right thing for her child and for Cameron. She eased down on to her knees so she could look into Savannah’s blue eyes, perhaps for the last time. Her fingers found Walther’s soft fur, and she felt the kitten calm as she rubbed his head. “I know you do.” Her voice was hushed and strangled and some of Savannah’s anger seemed to ebb at the sound of it. “But if you went, I’d be worried about you... and that would distract me from saving Cameron.”

“But...” Savannah didn’t have an argument for that. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I wanna help. I wanna bring her home,” she whined.

“I know.” Sarah reached out, cupping the child behind the neck and drawing her close for a hug. She put her head down on top of Savannah’s, breathing in familiar shampoo and the scent of her skin. Sarah closed her eyes, trying to imprint this moment in her mind, scared of missing a single detail about the child. Her child.

“I want you to remember... no matter what... that I love you.” Sarah gave up fighting her tears and let them fall. Beside her, she heard John swallow roughly. “We all do.”

Savannah leaned back and looked at her mother’s stricken features. “We’ll go to a cabin in the mountains when this is over?”

Sarah bit her lip, hard, at the reminder of the peace she doubted she would ever know. She wanted to lie to make Savannah feel better, but in the end it would be another promise she couldn’t keep and Sarah couldn’t bear to mar their last few seconds together with a lie. “We’ll see.”

The child tilted her head, sensing something was very wrong but not sure what. “Mom...”

Running her hands through silken red hair, Sarah managed a smile. “You’re going to go with Felicia to the beach house...” She took another shaky breath, refusing to think of the happy times they’d had there. “Remember that I love you. Please always remember that.”

Savannah nodded, her chin bravely lifting higher even as it began to quiver. “I love you too.” Walther escaped at last as the girl threw her arms around her mother’s neck, squeezing tighter as a soft, helpless sob escaped Sarah’s throat.

John slowly knelt next to them both, drawing his family into his arms as Sabine watched over them, but even the quiet girl’s eyes were brimming with tears.

Felicia turned and walked away, a sick feeling gathering in the pit of her stomach as she gave them a few final moments to say goodbye. She glanced back, wondering if she was seeing the Connor family together for the last time.

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