Calabasas Highlands (Connor Residence)

She is perfect.

This was John’s last thought before the dream became a nightmare, before her tender fingers gripped his throat like a vice. He choked, his eyes grew wide, and no breath reached his lungs. Looking up into her beautiful eyes, still seeing the warmth behind them, he kept telling himself it was all a trick, a playful tease that she had somehow concluded was appropriate for the situation. But when more than ten seconds of suffocation passed, he knew this was not a game. He stared at her inquisitively, trying to voice his confusion, but only a senseless gurgle escaped his mouth.

Then came the panic, the fear, and by extension; the heartbreak.

It was over. He couldn’t fight her; there was no point in even trying. She was going to kill him. Curiously though, this was not what consumed his thoughts in this moment. He had once considered setting aside his destiny, live a normal life, let the bombs fall and die along with the rest. Many a time had he loaded a gun and stared at it for more seconds than was necessary, contemplating his escapist options. But he never pulled the trigger, not when he had his Mom and his uncle still. Not when he had Cameron.

No, death itself did not scare him; he had faced it every day of his life. What he’d leave behind, that’s what truly terrified him. He didn’t want to die without fulfilling those few things that he had denied himself. He didn’t want to die without telling her… he loved her.

Twenty-five seconds passed and he knew the end was near. Any second now she would squeeze beyond his spine’s threshold, and he would be gone forever. He kept his eyes locked with hers; wanting those pools of chocolate to be the last thing he’d ever see in this world. They were so soft and kind, despite what she was doing to him. They spoke to him, conveying so much in so little. Then she spoke with her voice, a single tear rolling down her cheek and onto his face, very real sorrow in her eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. Just let it go, John. Just let go. It’s okay, John, let go. Everything’s going to be okay. Everything’s okay.”

Her words were soft and comforting, as if she were whispering to him on his sickbed, but it wasn’t from illness that his life was fading away. She applied more pressure, his skin bruising beneath her fingers, and leant down to place a tender kiss on his brow, another tear falling onto his face. It was almost over; his suffering would soon come to an end, she promised him that much.

She could feel his neck about to give under the pressure and closed her eyes and cancelled out her audio receptors, wanting to distance herself from the visceral reality of his imminent death. She felt him slip, his heart flutter towards death, and then everything became terribly bright, blindingly so. She felt herself falling to her left, toppling off the bed and landing in heap on the floor, her systems screaming in figurative agony as plasma-based energy flowed through her entire body, causing her to writhe in a cacophony of chaos.

--

Everything was so dark, she was barely visible, but he could still see her, silently weeping over his near demise.

Her sadness turned to shock, however, as a burst of what John could only describe as crimson lightning coursed through her body. Cameron’s eyes became wide and she teetered for a moment before tipping to her left and dropping off the bed, disappearing from his sight. It took his brain a moment to realise that her hand was no longer around his throat, but once it had a chance to catch up; he took a deep, rasping breath, trying to fill his lungs with more air than they could carry.

The darkness dissipated and the world returned in full colour. He could see, hear, taste, and feel. Everything was returned to him. As his vision regained its focus, John could sense a presence on his left side and was more than a little surprised to see a boy no older than himself standing there. He had dark brown hair that resembled his own whenever he neglected to keep its length in check, and he was of similar build, if a little on the skinny side. He either hadn’t noticed John or didn’t care, as his eyes were glued to the edge of the bed, waiting.

Cameron’s hand sprung out of nowhere, grasping the mattress as she hoisted herself to her feet, sparing John the briefest of glances before facing the intruder. She clenched her fists, ready to strike, but the boy acted so swiftly that she hadn’t a chance of making the slightest move. He aimed his open palm at her, his fingers splayed, and that same red lightning burst from his finger tips, striking Cameron head-on. The blast was so intense that John felt like his entire body was on fire, even though the arcs never came into direct contact, and threw Cameron clean through the bedroom window, sending her falling into the garden below.

The boy approached the window and scanned the darkness, finding no trace of Cameron.

“Threat neutralised.”

--

2029

Los Angeles (Skynet Facility)

Even as the door burst free of its hinges, Nathan already knew it was too late; the I-950 was escaping. A quick scan of the chamber confirmed his estimations: the TDE was fully prepped and the time sphere was all but complete, there was no way that they could possibly reach him before his displaced. But humans lacked this foresight, as Nathan discovered when General Connor elbowed him aside and aimed his sidearm at the Infiltrator.

The I-950’s eyes widened in fear as Connor squeezed the trigger, the bullet striking him in the temple a millisecond before the time sphere consumed him. Providing that the hit was penetrating, the Infiltrator had little chance of survival; he would arrive at his destination a lifeless corpse. Connor growled in frustration and kicked the TDE console, his men taking several steps back, knowing all too well the dangers of getting caught in the crossfire of his wrath.

Nathan remained as stoic as ever, indifferent to Connor’s outburst, and caught the eye of General Mazaki, giving him a knowing look. Mazaki nodded in reply and slipped past Connor to check the console, trying to determine the Infiltrator’s trajectory. Connor paced back and forth, tapping his sidearm against his leg, impatiently awaiting Mazaki’s report. The General could feel Connor’s gaze and hastily brought up the relevant info, letting out a grunt of anxiety.

“Oh hell, that son of a bitch has gone all the way back to ’08.”

Connor brushed him aside and checked the details himself, his face growing darker as comprehension dawned on him.

“FUCK!! THAT BASTARD!! GOD DAMN IT!!”

Nathan approached John’s side, peering over his shoulder to get a clear look at the screen, which displayed 2008 as Jason’s insertion date.

“He is likely hoping to terminate you during your adolescence. That’s assuming he survived your bullet.”

“He survived it. That bastard is harder to kill than ten HK tanks in a row.”

Mazaki crossed his arms behind his back respectfully and cleared his throat, prompting John to tear his eyes away from the console and give him a steely look.

“You have something to say, General?”

“With respect, sir; Skynet is screwed all to hell. Jason has a bullet in his head. What more can we do? What more can he do?”

John stood to full height and regarded the men for a moment before fixing Mazaki with a condescending glare.

“He can kill me, that’s what he can do. And I’m sure as hell not gonna let it happen. Nathan?”

Nathan stood to John’s side, calmly awaiting the inevitable mission he was about to be assigned.

“Fire up the TDE, you’re going back to 2008 and you’re gonna kill the shit out of that bastard, you here me.”

Nathan took a moment to register his new orders before nodding in agreement.

“Affirmative; I will track down and terminate Jason Corvain.”

Satisfied, John turned back to Mazaki, who was wearing a look of utter incredulity.

“Sir, you can’t seriously be considering sending THAT to protect you. How do we know he won’t go ape shit and slit your throat?”

John cast Nathan an amused glance, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Is that likely to happen, Nathan?”

“Not likely, no.”

“Well that’s good enough for me. You need to relax, General. Nathan is the only one who can take out Jason without any difficulties.”

Mazaki remained unconvinced but knew better than to press his luck. He looked to the floor, submitting to John’s judgment. John eyed him closely for a moment before turning back to Nathan.

“Time displacement is hardly accurate. There’s no telling where you might end up, so your chances of finding Jason early are remote, but if he’s alive he’ll no doubt come straight after me. That’s as good a place as any to start. Find me and you’ll find Jason. Just watch out for Cameron. If she becomes a problem… just remember that your mission comes first. Are we clear?”

Nathan gave him a small smile, his eyes glowing red briefly.

“Crystal.”

--

Present

Calabasas Highlands (Connor Residence)

Analysing Threat Level: MODERATE
Appropriate Action: IMMEDIATE DISARMAMENT

Nathan swiped the M-79 from Derek’s hands and popped the chamber open, letting the heavy rounds clatter to the floor with several heavy thuds. Derek took a step back and reached for his Desert Eagle but Nathan dropped the M-79 and held up his hands in surrender, as opposed to antagonising the human further. Sarah kept her shotgun aimed at his head, ready to blind him with a close-range blast of raw shell power. Nathan regarded her without expression, marking the similarities she shared with General Connor.

Like mother, like son, he mused.

“I’m not here to harm any of you. I was sent here by John. I am not your enemy.”

“Yeah, and what the hell is gonna make us believe that any time soon?”

Nathan frowned at the feral female, surprised by her ferocity.

“Why wouldn’t you? I haven’t attacked you. I saved John from the other one. What more proof do you need?”

Derek shoved his gun in Nathan’s face, inches away from his nose.

“You wanna know something about that metal you just blasted? The bitch has been living with us for almost a year now, learning all our secrets, all our plans. And now she’s decided to go loco on us… again. So what makes you think we’re just gonna accept that you’re one of the good guys? Scratch that; there are no good machines, with the exception of dead ones.”

Nathan felt rather amused by Derek’s passionate display of mingled hate and revulsion. He had encountered this kind of behaviour before, but not from any single individual. This one has charisma, he mused.

“A dead machine is useless, so how can it be any good to anyone? Never mind. Whether you believe my intent or not, it’s irrelevant. You can’t hurt me, I’m fully armoured against anything you might throw at me. The most you’d be able to do is destroy my infiltration sheath, and that would only succeed in aggravating me, and I wouldn’t advise that.”

Sarah placed the barrel of her shotgun against the side of Nathan’s head and cocked it, loading a shell into the chamber.

“Why are you here? What is your mission?”

“My mission… is to terminate Jason Corvain.”

“So what the hell are you doing here?”

“John, future John, instructed me to seek you out as he deduced that Jason would attempt to terminate his younger self. You’re my best bet at finding him. I-950s are slippery at best.”

Sarah slowly paced around him, keeping her gun within contact with his skull.

“How long have you been watching us?”

“At this location; three days, sixteen hours, and thirty-three minutes. Thirty-four minutes.”

“And how did you know Cameron was attacking John?”

“I was watching the house with thermal imaging. I saw them lying on the bed together and then John started to kick erratically.”

Sarah glanced into the living room where John was sat with his back to them, facing the corner of the room, staring at a row of photographs that belonged to the previous tenants. Tearing her eyes away from her grieving son, Sarah glared at Nathan, gripping the shotgun tighter.

“Okay, say I were to believe your story; what assurance can you give me that you won’t go ape-shit and kill us all in our sleep?”

“Sarah, you can’t possib-“

“Shut it, Derek! Answer the question.”

Derek placed a hand over his mouth and stared at Sarah as if she were going insane. Dissention amongst the ranks, Nathan observed, Sarah is the dominant female, interesting…

“If I wanted any of you dead, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. My target is Jason, no one else.”

Sarah considered him carefully, her finger tightening on the trigger for a moment before loosening her hold and lowering the shotgun. Derek was incredulous, but he knew that arguing with Sarah now would be like convincing a hungry crocodile not to grab the nearest buffalo, and so he remained silent.

Current Threat Level: NONE
Suggested Action: PATROL PERIMETER

“I’ll go and check the perimeter then.”

Nathan made to leave but Derek stood in his way, his gun arm twitching slightly.

“Uh-uh, no way, you stay inside. Watch from the windows or something, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Nathan regarded him closely for a moment before shrugging.

“Right, whatever you say.”

Derek was taken aback by his compliance but continued to eye him closely as he stood next to the kitchen window, silently scanning the darkness. Sarah slowly turned away from the cyborg and the soldier, focusing her attention on John, who hadn’t moved an inch. She slowly approached him and sat on the arm of the nearest chair at an angle to see his face, which was completely blank, save for the slightest flicker of sadness that Sarah knew to be the tip of a rather large iceberg.

She let out a deep sigh, bracing herself for “the talk”, and stared at the purple hand-shaped bruise around his neck.

“John, I need you to tell me what happened.”

John blinked, but otherwise made no indication that he could hear a word she said.

“Was it sudden or did she start to show… John, please, talk to me.”

But he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He was only vaguely aware of her presence, his mind lost in that black darkness of utter despair and misery.

“John? John… Johnny?”

John let out a breath and his expression softened ever so slightly.

“I can hear you, Mom.”

Sarah winced at the sound of his voice, which was so hoarse that it was almost demonic.

“Tell me what happened, John.”

John blinked several times before answering, his voice as flat and unemotional as the machine’s.

“I was helping her remove some bullets… Then we talked and… she just… just grabbed me. I don’t know why, she just did.”

“So you think she’s reverted again.”

“I don’t know what to think. She tried to kill me, just when things were…”

Sarah narrowed her eyes at him, detecting the disquiet behind his blank features.

“What? John? When things were what?”

John slowly shook his head, staring at the floor.

“Nothing, it’s private.”

Sarah frowned at her son, fearing the meaning behind his words. Nathan had mentioned that he saw John and Cameron lying on the bed together, but doing what? Upon closer examination, Sarah could see the faint smudge of gloss on his lips, and her question was answered for her.

“Were you kissing?”

John froze, his eyes glued to the floor, determined not to look up and meet his mother’s gaze.

“John, answer me; did you kiss her?”

“Say what?!”

Sarah glanced up to see Derek standing there, aghast at what he was hearing.

“John, I swear to God, if what your mother‘s saying is true…”

“What?”

John suddenly rose to his feet, meeting his uncle’s gaze with a look of such intensity that Sarah expected him to burst into flames at any moment.

“What do you swear?”

His voice, as deep and ragged as it sounded before, was nothing compared to the rumble that escaped his lips now. Sarah was truly intimidated by her son’s manner and feared what he might do next. If Derek was scared, he didn’t show it, and squared up to his nephew.

“If you’re trying to get into that metal bitch’s pants, I’m gonna-“

But for the second time this night, Derek’s sentence was cut short by a strong blow to his jaw, staggering him backwards as John stormed past and disappeared up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Sarah winced at the sound and glared at Derek.

“As if provoking him is going to help anyone.”

Derek flexed his jaw, hearing it click several times with the movement.

“It helps me.”

--

The sun was an unwelcome visitor this morning, as it reminded him too much of the way her skin glowed in the sunlight, the way her hair would shimmer and shine, the way her smile would blind him with its intensity, they way she would pour into his thoughts, drowning out everything but herself. John stared up at the ceiling, gently massaging his neck, part of him wishing she had killed him instantly. He had lost her again. No, not lost, to say that would imply he was to blame. He wasn’t, because he hadn’t lost her. She was stolen from him.

Jason.

Who else would know how to screw with her head? Who else could’ve removed her chip and messed with it? He was responsible for it all, and he would pay the price for taking her away from him, John would make sure of it, just as he did with Sarkissian. No one attacks those I love, he told himself. He would have his revenge, but first things first. He needed to figure out a way to save Cameron first, no matter the cost. He couldn’t just destroy her as his Mom and Derek would want, it wasn’t her fault. She could still be saved.

John laid his hand on the warm mattress, the same mattress that had supported her naked frame just hours previously. The sheets that he’d wrapped around himself, the same sheets that she had used to cover her modesty. He could still smell her, she was still near, and the sun’s rays felt like her gentle touch. He closed his eyes, letting himself believe that she was there with him, those brown eyes watching over him lovingly. She did love him, and still does. He could feel her pain as she squeezed his throat; it was killing her to do it.

John opened his eyes, but she wasn’t there, only the smart-ass face of an 8 year-old boy named Marty Bedell.

“Hey. You seen Cameron? I checked the whole house but she isn’t here. I wanted to ask her something.”

John looked away, not wanting to deal with the rodent at this particular moment, but Marty wasn’t to be deterred.

“Johhhhnnn? I’m taaallllking to youuuu.”

“Look, just bugger off, will you. I’m not in the mood.”

“Not until you tell me where Cameron is.”

John sighed and covered his eyes with his hand as tears started to leak again.

“She’s gone, alright! She turned bad and now she’s gone! Does that answer your question!?”

Marty’s face fell instantly, his lower lip trembling slightly.

“No… No she’s good. She’s good; she won’t ever go bad again. She promised, remember.”

John discreetly wiped the tears away with his thumb and removed his hand to see Marty looking exactly how he felt.

“She… She told me… I thought she was… a … a … a good person… she…”

John couldn’t help but feel a sense of overwhelming pity for the boy and put his own grief aside for a moment to pull the little guy into a comforting hug, something they both needed right now.

“It’s okay, kiddo. It’s not her fault. She’s still good inside. We just have to find a way to bring her back.”

“How’re we gonna do that?”

“I don’t know… but we’ll find a way…”

John let go of Marty and gave him a forced smile.

“…I promise.”

--

Mid-Afternoon

Calabasas (Calabasas Golf and Country Club)

Jeffrey potted his ball with expert precision, winning him the game with only five moves left. He smiled smugly at his opponent and twirled his club triumphantly.

“Best two out of three, Harold, eh?”

Harold pointed his club at Jeffrey like an accusing finger.

“I’m still not convinced you didn’t reposition that sand trap shot.”

“Oh please, don’t be a sore loser. That’s very bad form, you know.”

Harold opened his mouth to answer, only for his reply to be drowned by the sudden spark of lightning as a sphere of light to emerge out of nowhere, materialising right over the hole, melting the ground into a perfect semi circle as the sphere burned into existence. Harold and Jeffrey looked on in wonder as a naked man stumbled out of the sphere and landed in heap at their feet. The time sphere dissipated and faded away, leaving a small crater in its place.

They stared, jaws thoroughly dropped, as the man scanned his surroundings before looking up at them both with a blank expression. He regarded them closely before crossing his legs and sitting where he lay, staring at nothing in particular as Harold and Jeffrey struggled to find the appropriate response for such a strange occurrence.

“Well I’ll be a son of a bi-…”

--

Mid-Afternoon

Calabasas Highlands (Connor Residence)

It didn’t take him long to find Nathan, though John was surprised that Derek had let him out of his sight. The machine was standing several yards away from the house, his keen eyes scanning the surrounding area like a hawk searching for its next meal. John wasted no time in getting his attention, standing directly in his line of sight, his arms crossed together.

“I have questions.”

“Of course you do.”

“Firstly, what model are you?”

Nathan looked back at the house for a moment before answering.

“Series 999, Model 973, I’m an advanced infiltration and heavy combat specialist.”

“And what’s the deal with the red lightning?”

Nathan flexed his fingers and gave a small shrug.

“I’m powered by a miniature plasma reactor, which I can draw upon to release a burst of plasma energy, but as you can see; there are side effects.”

Nathan held up his right hand and John noticed for the first time that his finger tips were burnt off, revealing the metal beneath.

“Why did I send you back in particular?”

“You wanted to make sure the job was done. No mistakes, no errors. Plus I was the only one present at the time.”

So I sent you back upon a snap decision, I guess I’m not one for pre-meditative thought in the future, he mused.

“So you’re here to kill Jason. Is that it? Kill him and end of story?”

“Once my primary mission is complete I will endeavour to help you in destroying Skynet.”

“Good, but I’m not worried about that at the moment. I have something else I need your help with.”

Nathan turned to face him properly, mirroring John’s stance and crossing his arms, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Cameron. You want me to help you recover her.”

“Yes. Will you?”

“No.”

John hadn’t been expecting such an offhand rejection like that, especially not from a machine.

“Why the hell not?”

“My mission is very clear: terminate Jason Corvain. Until that directive is complete, I cannot and will not aid in any other endeavours.”

“Wha-? So if we kill Jason tomorrow, will you help me then?”

“No.”

John felt the rush of blood in his ears upon hearing Nathan’s irrational refusal and had to bite back hard on his anger in order to get a rational explanation out of him.

“Why not?”

“She is a liability. She cannot be trusted. And she is no longer necessary now that I am here. She’s outdated.”

John gritted his teeth, his hands clenching into fists and beginning to shake. Nathan took note of his elevated aggression and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“She will never be outdated or useless to me! Do you understand?!”

Nathan simply shrugged, meeting John’s fiery stare with a cold one of his own.

“You’re too emotionally attached to a construct not of your own species. Nor is she, it, alive in any sense of the word, unless you want to get metaphysical about it.”

“And what if I am? She means a lot to me, more than anyone can possibly understand. I will not abandon her or let anyone harm her.”

“Then you will have to restrain me because I will show no quarter should she come for you again. I will destroy her on sight.”

John took a full step closer, entering Nathan’s personal space, sizing him up as if he were a simple human.

“You lay a finger on her and I will kill you myself. Because unlike her, I don’t give a piss about you, nor do I care if you’re more advanced. My only care is for her, and her alone. You’re expendable, do you hear me?”

Jason tilted his head slightly to one side and smiled slyly as he calculated a response, but something else caught his attention instead and he looked beyond John, his eyes glossing over as he processed the new information. John frowned at Nathan’s distraction, not knowing whether he was attempting to subvert him or ignore him altogether.

“Hey. What’re you looking at?”

Nathan snapped out of his reverie and regarded John with an expression of amusement.

“Something very interesting has just happened.”

“Really and what’s that?”

“We have a new arrival.”

--

Mid-Afternoon

Calabasas (Calabasas Golf and Country Club)

John stepped out of the car, already bored by their little sojourn; he didn’t want to waste his time investigating an alleged displacement, he wanted to find Cameron and help her. He wanted her back, the pain of her absence already eating away at him from the inside out. Nathan didn’t care, however, and stood at John’s side, indifferent to his obvious discomfort.

“So what can we expect? Machine or man, man or machine?”

“It’s impossible to tell at the moment, maybe both. I’m curious to find out.”

Nathan proceeded to the entrance where several affronted gentleman were nattering away about the scandal in their fifth pitch. As if they haven’t go better things to do, John thought. Nathan led him straight into the lobby and approached the man at the desk, who looked just as put-out as his clientele.

“Hi there, I heard you got a guy in your court.”

The man stared at Nathan suspiciously, his eyes flicking to John for a brief moment before returning to the Triple-9.

“How did you hear about that, sonny?”

“Oh, I’m ashamed to say I know the man. He’s a cousin, off his medication, but don’t worry; me and my brother will remove him without further ado.”

The man looked thoroughly relieved and let out a dramatic sigh, making John’s eyes roll in exasperation.

“Ah, that would be much appreciated, good lad. Go right ahead, and err, do be sure to keep him away from this property in the future.”

Nathan smiled and gave the man a small wink before turning to John, cocking his head in the direction of the back door, indicating that that was their route. John followed tiredly as Nathan marched out onto the open golf field, not wasting any time in locating the displacement patch. John had seen patches like this too many times to count and was unimpressed, although the precision was notably perfect. Nathan analysed the patch carefully, and turned to a nearby golfer.

“Where is the man in question?”

“In the changing rooms, putting on some clothes I believe.”

“Thank you.”

Nathan once again led John, taking him to the changing rooms which was otherwise unoccupied, except for a lone man who sat rigidly on a bench, wearing borrowed clothes that in no way matched his appearance. John looked him over carefully; he was no older than someone in their mid twenties and had dirty-blond hair with dark green eyes. He stared back at them both, blank, unresponsive, like a child. John opened his mouth to ask his name but Nathan leapt forward and grasped the man by the shoulders, slamming him against the wall.

The man retaliated in kind, but lacked the strength to break Nathan’s grip and was subsequently ploughed through a cubicle as a result. He quickly got to his feet, however, and delivered a direct kick to Nathan’s chest, making him stop in his tracks, but not stagger. Nathan took out the man’s legs and splayed his fingers again, delivering a massive blast into the man’s face, knocking him out cold.

“Threat neutralised. Interesting…”

“What?”

John looked down at the man, guessing that he wasn’t actually a man.

“This is an older model. Very old. A 700 series. Why would Skynet ever send one of these back in time?”

“You got me. Who knows why Skynet does anything. Maybe he was sent here by accident.”

“Unlikely. I guess we’ll never know.”

Nathan reached out to crush the T-700’s skull, but John was struck by a sudden inspiration and grabbed Nathan’s wrist.

“He didn’t attack on sight. He might be of some use to us.”

Nathan frowned at him, not seeing how a defunct model could possibly serve any purpose.

“How so?”

“I dunno, his chip might have valuable data on it or something, you never know.”

Nathan considered him carefully for a moment before nodding.

“I suppose you’re right. We’ll remove his chip and incinerate his body, but first we need to get him out of here.”

“Fine, whatever, but you’re carrying him.”

--

Early Evening

Calabasas Highlands (Connor Residence)

“So you’re taking in strays now?”

John looked up to see his mother glaring at him and the disabled T-700. He rolled his eyes and tapped further into the machine’s CPU, finding no directives, no current mission, and no orders of any kind, except to follow the commands of any authoritive figure.

“He’s a blank slate, Mom. No pre-programming. Nathan says he’s must’ve been decommissioned before any orders could be assigned.”

“Really? Then why is he active?”

“That’s what I’m about to find out.”

John removed the bronze-coloured chip from his USB port and, to Sarah’s surprise, stuck it back inside the T-700’s skull.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Nathan poked his head around the corner and frowned at John, realising what he was doing.

“You said you weren’t going to reactivate it.”

“I lied.”

The T-700’s eyes fluttered open, a dull red glow briefly emanating from within. He blinked a few times before looking around, immediately tensing at the sight of Nathan. John stood between them and held his hands open, attempting to deescalate the situation before metal started flying every which-a-way.

“Hey, hey, it’s cool. Calm down, we’re not gonna hurt you, we’re not your enemies.”

The T-700 peered around him to get a look at Nathan, who was scrutinizing John closely.

“He is. He tried to terminate me.”

The T-700’s speech was simple and plain, again reminding John of a child. In many ways, he is, John thought.

“That was just a misunderstanding. Everything’s cool now.”

The T-700’s eyes darted across the room, obvious confusion clouding his stoic features.

“The temperature in this room is above thirty degrees.”

John would’ve laughed, had the world not thrown him a short one. In fact, his childlike ignorance only reminded him of Cameron even more. Many a time would she ask an obvious question, though he would likewise be unable to properly explain it to her. John felt that ache again and had to use all of his will to keep from breaking down again.

“What is your mission?”

“I have no mission.”

“Do you want one?”

The T-700 regarded him for a moment before answering, with a small hint of eagerness to his voice.

“Yes.”

John nodded slowly and decided to go for some clarity.

“How did you end up here, in this time, did Skynet send you?”

“No. I was decommissioned before I was ever activated and left in cold storage. Then the facility was attacked, and Skynet called upon all forces to defend the base. I was caught in an explosion whilst defending a TDE chamber. I fell into the portal by accident and was sent through instead of the X Series.”

Nathan whistled, surprising them all, a small smirk on his face.

“Well I guess he’s already proven himself useful. If it wasn’t for his gaucherie, you would most likely have a T-X on your tail, and not even I can defeat one of those.”

John was tempted to ask about this “T-X” but decided against it and turned back to the T-700.

“Okay look; you’re not programmed to kill me, so that’s keeping you alive right now, understand?”

The T-700 nodded, indifferent to the hidden death threat buried in John’s words.

“So if you follow my orders, and mine alone, to the letter; I’ll give you a mission. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Sarah looked from John, to Nathan, to the T-700, and back to John, incredulous with the plethora of events that just swirled around her. Cameron had turned against them again, John was secretly in love with the machine, a new model saved his life, and an old one is being offered a job. What next, she wondered.

--

She is perfect.

John poured all of his buried feelings, all of his conscious and subconscious love into her body, his lips serving as the conduit. He gently stroked her neck, eliciting small gasps of pleasure as she became lost to his caress. He slid his hand across her apple and gave a gentle squeeze. She giggled at first, but as his grip tightened, she started to gurgle and her eyes shot open in terror. He stared down at her dispassionately and watched her struggle against him, tears streaming her eyes as she desperately tried to break free.

It wasn’t long before she stopped struggling, before her legs ceased kicking and her entire body became limp beneath his palm. He brushed a thick lock of hair out of her face and smiled at her lifeless form, his glowing red eyes reflecting in her once human brown.

--

“NO!! CAMERON!! NO GOD!!”

John awoke screaming, his sheets drenched with his own sweat. For a moment he was still trapped within the nightmare but as he took several deep and steadying breaths, John came back to reality, but the memory of the nightmare had followed him. He sat up and buried his face in his hands, sobbing without restraint. He needed her so much right now; he wanted to hold her again, to smell the calming aroma of her hair. Only her presence could sooth the pain that he had tried all day to suppress.

He wiped the tears from his eyes, but kept his face hidden. Sarah wanted her dead, Derek wanted her dead, Nathan wanted her dead, and only he wanted her alive. But even if he were to somehow capture her, would he be able to undo the damage done to her, or would she remain as she is, forever bent on killing him? Would he be forced to euthanize her? Could he do it? John forced himself to look around the room, everything obscured in darkness, and half hoping that she might emerge from the shadows, even if it meant his imminent death. At this point, he no longer cared, so long as he got to hold her one last time.

It took him a moment to realise that he was being watched and almost gave out a cry of surprise when he spotted Nathan staring at him out of the darkness of the hallway. He continued to watch him for several long seconds before disappearing downstairs. If Sarah and Derek didn’t get to her first, then Nathan would surely kill Cameron in their stead. But he would never allow that, which is why having a simple-minded machine at hand is useful. The T-700 would obey any order given to him by John, no matter the circumstance, which would be nothing short of invaluable when the time came.

John wiped away the last of his tears. The time for games and childish crying was over. He had to track down Jason and kill him, and then he’d need to rescue Cameron from herself, because he knew… he’d seen it in her eyes… she still loved him, and that was all that sustained him. As John tried to bury his face into his pillow, desperate to leave the day behind, his cell phone suddenly vibrated on his bedside table. He snatched it up without hesitation and flipped it open, shoving it against his ear so hard it hurt.

“Cameron?”

“…John?”


To be continued…

Next: Chapter 07: Confliction
Previous: Chapter 05: Reversion