Chapter 3: "Being John Connor Can Be Lonely"This is a featured page

A/N: I'm trying to stick as close to the show as possible, with the exception of John and Cam. But I do base a lot of what goes around what we see of them. Mostly, I'm just writing what could be going on that we're not seeing. Because of this, I'm waiting for new episodes to air before writing chapters for it. Currently, I have 8 chapters written, one of which needs a lot of work, the others just need a little editing. As for Chapter 9, I'm waiting until next week's episode to figure out how I'm going to work the story into the episode (I have the basic arc figured out, I just want to work it into existing episodes.) The plan is to post at least 1 chapter a day. The thing that's really taking time is the music, but I'll be working on that today.

Wow, long-winded author's note. Forgot to put this on previous chapters: I do not own the characters and references to the show or anything else relating to the show.



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Cameron was confused. She didn’t like to be confused. Usually, she would just ask John to explain it to her, but she didn’t think he’d want to hear about it. Ever since the explosion, he had spent less and less time with her. And more time with Riley. Cameron didn’t like that. She couldn’t protect him if he wouldn’t spend any time with her. Often, she would follow him. Sometimes she’d let him see her, though she didn’t know why.

And now Riley was dead. She didn’t kill her, but she should have. Riley had become a real threat. She was bringing too much trouble into John’s life. But John didn’t want Cameron to kill Riley, so she didn’t.

Cameron had thought that now John would spend more time with her, but now he had left on his own. It made her nervous not knowing where he was. But she didn’t follow him. She should have followed him. Instead, she was walking back to the house. To wait for him. I’m always waiting for him. Why didn’t she follow him, though? Because he had asked me not to. Always because he asks me not to. That shouldn’t matter.

Lately she did so many things that she didn’t understand. She still didn’t fully understand what happened the night John left for Mexico. Why had she laid down in bed with him? Was she just trying to manipulate him? Maybe. But it seemed like there was more to it. She wanted to lay in bed with him, to be near him; it felt right. I missed him. I still do. Nothing feels right when he's not around.

And before, when she had said “I love you.” It wasn’t necessary, not like the first time. There was no tactical advantage. But she’d wanted to say it. There was that word again--want. She wasn’t sure how she knew that that was the word to describe the sensation she’d felt so much since the explosion. She still didn’t know if that was even the word, but it seemed to fit best. But the question was why is she wanting anything at all?



“Why wasn’t it necessary?”

“Because her mission was still to terminate you, but she had overridden it. She had free will. You reprogrammed her anyway. You couldn’t risk it. After that, you started spending more and more time with her. Your soldiers worried about you. Eventually, you wouldn’t see anyone but her.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. But to everyone else, she was just a reprogrammed Terminator. They couldn’t understand what was so special about her.” Mykah paused for a moment. “John, you need to let her remember.”

“Remember what?”

“Remember you.”

“What are you talking about? She remembers me. She knows who I am.”

“She doesn’t remember her time with you. She has data files, but she doesn’t remember any actual time she spent with you.”

“Yes she does. She’s told me about it. How I used to talk to her all the time how--”

Mykah interrupted him “--After her chip was damaged, right?” The look on his face confirmed her statement. “Exactly. She’s starting to remember things, things are starting to get through. She’s remembering conversations and thoughts and feelings that she can’t even begin to understand, and so she reacts in unpredictable ways.”




John had successfully snuck into the morgue. He needed to see. He needed to know it was Riley.

He told himself that he just wanted to say goodbye, but deep down, he secretly hoped that there would be evidence. Something that proved Cameron had not killed her.

He opened the door that said “Doe, Jane” on it, and prepared himself for what he was about to see. The first thing he saw was blond hair. He slowly pulled the drawer out, and saw that it was Riley. Of course it was Riley. He carefully examined her. The bruising around her neck, the cuts on her fingers. They shouldn’t be there, at least not the cuts.

If she wants you dead, you’re dead.

He felt relief. He had found the proof he needed to let himself believe her. To show his mother and Derek that he was right, and that once again they had underestimated Cameron. Or overestimated her, depending on how you look at it.

He held Riley’s hand up to his face. He knew it would be the last time that he’d see her.

It was his fault. He should have listened to his mom, to Derek…to Cameron. To himself. He had ignored all the signs. He knew she was in trouble, and he suspected what kind, but he ignored it. Because he’d wanted to pretend everything was okay. He whispered softly. “I’m sorry.”

He would move on. He’d have to. But first, he’d have to find the truth.


Cameron had just had a very interesting conversation with Sarah. She had told Sarah that they were both a threat to John. That him caring for them, for anyone, was a threat to his success. He made stupid mistakes because of them. But she wasn’t sure if she believed this. Logically, it made sense. Except that she could protect John. But lately, she’d become more of a risk. And as long as she was a risk, he would always be better on his own.

Being John Connor can be lonely.





talli
talli
Latest page update: made by talli , Mar 30 2009, 8:23 PM EDT (about this update About This Update talli Edited by talli

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