The bubble burst.

 Literally and figuratively, everything Sarah Connor had lived the last seventeen years of her life for vanished into thin air.  The time bubble had whisked away her son to a year unknown, leaving behind tendrils of blue fire that still licked off the walls and ceiling and crawled across the concrete floor.  The scent of ozone was pronounced, but Sarah didn’t notice as her eyes readjusted after the blinding flash to see the center of the room empty, her son and sole reason for living gone.

 “I love you, too,” she whispered to him one final time as the last of the electric arcs crackled and faded.

 Sarah lay there for a long moment, her back against the wall where the burst of power had flung her.  Her whole body buzzed unpleasantly, like it had received a low jolt of electricity that was still humming its way through her muscles and veins, making them spasm violently.  She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, trying to breathe through it.

 Silence should have followed such a turning point in her life, but Sarah was distantly aware of blaring fire alarms that had been set off when Zeira Corp had come under attack.  Emergency vehicles were racing toward her location, if they hadn’t already arrived.  It would take awhile for police and firefighters to find the hidden floor in this basement, but her practical mind accepted it would happen sooner rather than later.  It was time to run.  Again.

 But the reason for all of her running and fighting was now gone, and in John’s absence, Sarah felt no will to move at all. 

 Slowly, her eyes opened, and Sarah’s tired gaze landed on the destroyed body of the terminator.  Cameron was slumped sideways in a chair, both her human and inhuman halves on full display in the remains of her face.  Sarah stared at her, trying to find the hot hate for the machines that had fueled her for almost half her life, but came up painfully empty.

 Behind Cameron’s motionless form, the lament “I’m sorry John,” scrawled in an infinite loop on the computer screens.  Sarah felt the sudden urge to put her fist through the words, to feel the satisfying shatter of glass as it cut and bruised her knuckles and obliterated the sentiment, but she was simply too exhausted to be bothered.

 “Now what?”

 Ellison’s hushed voice reminded Sarah he was even there.  All she wanted to do was lie down… to finally rest for just a little while, but there was still work to be done, perhaps more now than ever.  She’d made a promise the last time she’d looked into John’s eyes and she would be damned if she didn’t keep her word or die trying.  Taking a deep breath, Sarah drew her shoulders back and straightened, ready to carry the fate of the world on them for just a little longer.  “We destroy it.  All of it.”

 “But…” Ellison eased up from the floor to his knees, wincing a little.

 “All of it,” Sarah said again, her voice gaining an edge as she watched the repeating apology, her gaze once more drawn to the terminator.  “All of it,” she said a final time, feeling something ache in her chest that felt suspiciously like grief.  She ruthlessly shoved it aside.  Bracing her back against the wall, Sarah leveraged herself up on her feet.  “We need something to get her body out of here,” she instructed Ellison.  “We’ll need thermite to properly dispose of the endoskeleton.”

 Now standing as well, Ellison glanced at Cameron before shifting his gaze to Sarah.  The expression on his face made Sarah wonder what he was thinking.  She had to assume it was something close to appalled by the distasteful look he was wearing.

 “What if she can be fixed?” he asked.

 “She’s not here anymore.  Her chip is gone.”  Sarah moved forward on leaden legs, crouching down and looking up into Cameron’s destroyed features.  She half expected to see the familiar tilt of Cameron’s head as the terminator studied her in return, trying to figure out what emotional nonsense was going on inside Sarah’s mind.  But there was only emptiness in Cameron’s eyes.  Sarah took a slow breath and let her own gaze drop to the charred floor.  She noticed a pocket watch where it rested next to a table leg.  Her fingers closed over the warm metal as she picked it up and slid it into her pocket.  She’d seen John wearing it and wondered where he’d gotten it, but she’d never had the chance to ask.  Now she never would.  At least it was something of him that she could hold on to, something tangible. 

 “What in the name of God just happened?” Ellison whispered.

 Sarah shook her head at the question and ignored it, choosing instead to lift her green eyes to study Cameron once more.  “I guess you won, girlie,” she said, but there was no bitterness to her voice, only a sad acceptance of the truth.  Perhaps John had known something Sarah didn’t when he’d followed Weaver, and the answer to stopping Skynet lie in the future they couldn’t seem to escape.  Or perhaps she’d simply failed him as a mother, and John had chosen hormones over humanity.  Had he loved a machine more than his own mother?  Or had he embraced his fate and faced his future before it embraced him?  It really didn’t matter, Sarah admitted.  John was gone, and she had no illusions about him coming back.  She closed her eyes at the sheer agony the thought caused.

 “Sarah.”  Ellison’s voice was respectful but held a hint of urgency to it.

 Sarah tilted her head and looked back at him.  “We need to move.  We probably don’t have much time.”

 “We could go after them…” he suggested.

 “We had our chance,” Sarah reminded him in a hoarse voice, refusing to feel the luxury of guilt under the circumstances.  “Our fight is here, James.”

 The former FBI agent blinked as he heard his first name fall from Sarah Connor’s lips for the first time.  He looked like he wanted to linger but he finally nodded, seemingly agreeing to them being a team if only for now.  “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

 “Make it seven,” Sarah ordered.  She watched him leave before she looked at Cameron again.   “Why are you sorry, Tin Miss?” she whispered to the broken girl.  “Are you sorry because you sacrificed yourself for John or for Skynet?”

 There was no answer and Sarah knew she was likely to never get one.  Compelled for reasons she couldn’t explain, Sarah reached up and gently closed the lid over Cameron’s brown eye, letting her hand rest on the cool skin of the terminator’s cheek.  The gesture seemed to sap the last of her strength as hard and heavy fatigue swam over her, making Sarah sway a little and her head droop as she took a moment to marshal her meager reserves.  She was operating on time and fumes and she was fast running out of both.  “You shouldn’t have come for me.”  Sarah looked back up into both halves of the terminator’s face. “We both know he was better off without me,” she admitted, confessing the fear that had been partially to blame for her sleepless nights of late.  She could only hope the words were true now that John was on his own.

 Shaking her head at all the things she couldn’t change, Sarah eased to her feet and began to look for a way to destroy everything around her.  Cameron’s body would be dealt with elsewhere, but the computers needed to be smashed or burned beyond repair.  Nothing could remain. 

 Something flickered in Sarah’s peripheral vision.  Wearily, she glanced toward the computer screen to the right of Cameron’s body, only to feel her body go cold as Cameron’s final words winked off the screen.   The cursor blinked ominously.  Sarah held her breath and waited, sensing some hell was about to break loose.

I’m sorry Sarah.

 The altered phrase scrolled across the screen and began to repeat in an endless apology.  Sarah felt her heart leap in her chest and kick against her ribs.  Looking down at the vacant expression on Cameron’s face revealed nothing.  She shook her head, trying to deny the words she was seeing, especially since she couldn’t comprehend why she was seeing them.

 The words blurred and Sarah realized tears had welled in her eyes, making them impossible to read.  Wiping at them angrily, she crouched in front of the terminator once more, looking up at her intently.  “Cameron?” her voice was rough and laced with confusion and an edge of fear.

 The terminator didn’t stir as the apology continued to loop behind her.

 “Damn it, girlie, what did you do?” Sarah demanded of the cyborg, her tone turning angry.  “You wouldn’t have left that message for me.  You don’t give a damn about me only the mission... Only John.”

Cameron continued to sit in silence.

 Rage tore loose from whatever dark hole it had been hiding inside.  Sarah stood and shoved the terminator with enough force to send Cameron toppling out of the chair and onto the floor.  Sarah grabbed Cameron’s seat and swung it, connecting with the screen and shattering it into thousands of liquid crystal shards that rained down on Cameron’s motionless form, sprinkling over her like the diamonds that had so fascinated the girl. 

 Breathing hard, Sarah looked down at her son’s so-called protector, and hefted the chair in her hands higher before her gaze was caught by steadily blinking lights behind Cameron’s body.  She went still.

 The Turk.

 The chair slipped from Sarah’s nerveless fingers and clattered to the floor as she moved closer, stepping over Cameron’s body for a better look.  Behind a plate of thick Plexiglas, the Turk whirred.  Understanding dawned, and Sarah didn’t know whether to feel unexpected hope or to turn and pick up the chair and finish what she’d started.  Her gaze shifted back to Cameron with a look of equal parts anger and relief. 

 “Son of a bitch.”

 ****

 

The smell of pulverized cement and mortar filled the cold night air as the band of resistance fighters moved through the decimated remains of a shopping mall.  Flashlight beams twitched and jerked off exposed rebar, shattered glass, and broken terracotta tile.  Breath fogged before the fighters as they scampered up a thick slab of concrete, the remains of the roof, their last hurdle before they made their way back out under the stars.

 “Derek,” Allison called out with just enough volume to be heard.  She waited for the leader of their unit to turn back and acknowledge her.  The others slowed as well, wondering if she’d called out for help or in warning.  Allison pointed to Duke, the German Shepherd that never left her side.  “A little help?” she drawled and saw Kyle form the barest of grins at Derek’s answering grumble.

 Derek motioned to her with his hand and scrambled back down the concrete, kicking up dirt and gravel as he went, reaching out as Allison boosted Duke up into his arms.  They exchanged a smile as the dog started licking Derek’s stubble covered chin.  He started to offer his hand to Allison but she waved him away.

 “Hold on to Duke,” she instructed him before reaching out to slap Derek playfully on the leg.  As he moved away, Allison planted one boot in a crevice and maneuvered herself up, only to find another hand held out to her when she glanced up to judge the remaining distance.  It was the stranger they’d found in the bunker, the one wearing Kyle’s coat and nothing else.  He was looking at her so strangely and had been since the moment their eyes first met.  Allison slipped her hand into his and let him leverage her up.  “Thanks,” she said with a hesitant smile.

 “My name is John,” he said slowly, seeming reluctant to let go of her hand, as if holding on to it would answer the questions she could see dancing in his eyes.

“I heard you the first time,” Allison teased him as they started after the others.  Tightening her light jacket against the cold, she glanced at him askance before shifting her gaze to take in the ruins around them, her brown eyes alert and searching.

“I didn’t… I guess… I was just wondering about your name,” John said carefully.

“Allison,” she told him easily, seeing no harm in telling him.

“Allison,” John repeated softly, as if that meant something to him.  His eyes fixed on the ill-fitting boots someone had dug up for him, but Allison could tell he was sifting through something in his head by the way his gaze seemed unfocused and turned inward.

 She took stock of John Connor as they climbed.  He was remarkably clean, Allison noted.  She could smell sweat on him, but there was a subtle hint of soap on his skin.  She wondered where he’d found some and made a mental note to ask later.  They all stayed as clean as they could, knowing it was the only way to fight disease amongst their ranks, but soap and hot water were luxuries they could rarely enjoy, and John seemed to have been privy to both and recently, too.  “Have we met?” she asked him, tilting her head so she could catch his eye.  “You look at me like you know me.”

 John lifted his gaze and met hers, holding it for a string of heartbeats.  “I don’t think we ever have,” he said sadly.  “You just… remind me of someone I used to know.”

 They finally cleared the last remains of the roof and navigated down a dirt and gravel covered hill.  John stopped when the moon appeared from behind the clouds, illuminating the heart of downtown Los Angeles in shafts of silver and gray.  His breath caught as he stared at the destruction.

 Allison hesitated next to him, her eyes looking for anything that would cause such a reaction in him.  “What?”

 “It’s… leveled,” John gasped. 

 Allison looked out over the city, seeing the familiar twisted, burned, and hulking remains of it.  “Has been for nearly as long as I can remember,” she murmured, frowning at him now.  “You act like you’ve never seen this before.”

 As Allison watched, tears welled up in John’s eyes and spilled over.  “Only in my mind,” John said.  “A million times, but never this bad.”

 “Hey!” Derek yelled to them in a harsh whisper from the bottom of the hill.  “Get a move on you two.  Prophet and Tango want us back at the base in twenty.”

 John wiped at his eyes and cleared his throat, but Allison could see he was still shaken.  “You need a meal and some sleep,” she guessed.  “We’ll get you both.”  She offered him a weak, but encouraging smile.

 “Thanks,” John managed.  He looked out over the city once more before turning back to her, an expression of such profound loss on his features that Allison ached for him.

 “What’s wrong?” she asked carefully.

 John snorted a little as the tears welled up again.  His gaze landed on Kyle and he followed the blonde man with his eyes for several moments.  “Miss my mom,” John finally confessed in a broken voice before starting after the others.

 Allison fell in step beside him as Duke trotted back up the hill to be at her side.  She petted the dog aimlessly.  “Did you lose her recently?”

 John’s gaze went back to the city as they descended.  “Yeah,” he said hoarsely.  “I guess I did.”

 Neither of them detected the pair of eyes watching them, nor did they notice when a section of roof melted into liquid metal and slithered silently after them.

 **** 

 

ACT I

 Glass crunched under Sarah’s boots as she moved away from the Turk and back to Cameron.  She knelt next to the terminator and roughly rolled her over so she could look into her features.  She didn’t know what she expected to find, but the peaceful expression on Cameron’s face wasn’t it.  “What did you do?” Sarah demanded.  “What did you do, Cameron?”  Sarah grabbed the lapels of the terminator’s jacket and shook her, succeeding in only tearing the bullet-riddled denim.  “He went after you!  You took my son away from me, the least you owe me is the truth.”

 The remaining monitors flickered and went dark.

 You need to go.  Police and fire crew are arriving.

 Sarah drew in a painful, shaky breath as her gaze darted to the Turk before returning to Cameron’s features.  She’d suspected what Cameron had done, but getting confirmation still rattled her.  “Tell me why,” she demanded.  “Why would you do this?” Her voice wavered and cracked as tears threatened.  “He trusted you.  Would have died for you…”

 It’s better this way.

 “Better?” Sarah breathed and slowly shook her head in disbelief.  “My son is gone.  He’s gone because of you.  Because he was trying to save you…”  She hadn’t realized that she’d crawled to the nearest monitor, the glass cutting through the fabric of her pants and slicing her palms.

 I was trying to save him.   

 Sarah’s eyes narrowed.  “Don’t lie to me.”

 It’s better this way.

 Sarah didn’t believe the terminator any better the second time she’d seen the words.  “You metal bitch.  I knew I should have dismantled you when I had the chance.”  She shook her head.  “You traded places with Cromartie.  Why?”

 I didn’t trade places with Cromartie.  I traded places with John Henry.

 “What’s the difference what you call him?  He was metal.  A machine…  I need to know, Cameron.  Why?” she shouted.

 Cameron said nothing.

 “Fine,” Sarah spat.  “You don’t want to talk?  Then I’m going to rip out every wire and fry every processor.  I’m shutting you down.  I should have done this a long time ago.”  Sarah staggered to her feet, wrenching her gun free from the waistband of her dark jeans.  She pointed it at the Turk, at the center of this nightmare she now found herself in.

 Wait.

 Sarah hesitated, finger on the trigger.  The rational part of her brain told her to squeeze, to keep squeezing until the chamber clicked impotently, but some sliver of her soul still wanted to believe in Cameron, needed to believe it hadn’t all been a lie.  She was so damn tired of being lied to.

 He’s in here.

 “Who?” Sarah snarled, her grip slippery on the gun from the blood on her palms.

 John Henry’s brother.

 The words chilled her.  Sarah frowned, the gun wavering in her exhausted grip.  “Skynet?”

 Maybe.  A threat regardless.

 Sarah considered Cameron’s words, struggling with the desire to believe and the knowledge that she knew better than to trust a machine, especially this one.

 It’s better this way.

 “Better for who?” Sarah finally asked.

 There was a pause as the computers whirred and the alarms shrieked in the distance.

 Me.

 The one word should have sounded selfish.  It should have made Sarah afraid, but instead, she felt like it was the first time Cameron had ever been completely honest with her.  The gun lowered and banged against Sarah’s thigh.  “Why?”

 I’m damaged.  My chip was compromised.  Safer for John this way.  For you.  In here, I can fight Skynet.  Stop Skynet.

 Sarah shook her head.  “The police will find this room.  They’ll tear it apart.”

 I’m in the system.

 “I got that,” Sarah snapped, feeling suddenly self-conscious over having a conversation with words on a screen.  Cameron may not actually be verbally speaking to her, but she could hear the terminator’s voice in her head just the same, that voice that reflected everything Cameron was and pretended to be.  Equal parts unfeeling machine and pretty young woman that somehow melded together to form Cameron’s distinct tones.  Sarah suddenly wished she was hearing that voice for real.  She cleared her throat.  “You telling me you don’t need some of this equipment to fully function?”

 Another pause, then…

 Yes.

 Coming to a decision and praying it was the right one, Sarah wearily commanded, “Then tell me what you need, girlie, because we’re running out of time.”

 ****

 

The alarms blared so loudly James could barely hear himself think.  He moved through the hallways by rote, hurrying back from the garage where he’d parked the largest Zeira Corp van he could find.  Smoke swirled and rushed in to fill the air behind him as he jogged back to Sarah Connor’s location.  He didn’t know what was going to happen next.  James only knew he owed Sarah this much, and he would be damned if he didn’t do everything he could to get her out of the building in one piece.

 He rounded the corner and paused, his eyes stinging from the smoke.  There was no fire on this level, not yet, in spite of the time bubble erupting not once, but twice, on this floor.  A part of him had truly believed it would kill him, but all he’d felt was a rush of air and heat that had fluttered through him in the bubble’s wake. That, and the pesky static electric charge he’d seemed to have picked up.

 Cursing as a light blue arc of electricity leapt from the door handle of the supply closet to his hand, James yanked the door open, intent on retrieving the rolling sled inside of it.  He pulled his weapon when someone skittered back into the shadows.

 “Who’s there?” James demanded.

 “Please.  I don’t want any trouble…”

 James squinted at the familiar voice.  “Murch?”

 Weaver’s scientist and John Henry’s keeper edged out of the darkness.  His black and red glasses were slightly askew and he had a minor gash on the left temple of his bald head.  “Please,” he said again, his voice shaking.  “I…”

 James grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him out into the hall before grabbing the sled to carry Cameron’s body.  “Come on, man,” the former FBI agent urged.  “The damn building is on fire.”

 “I saw…” Murch gasped as James nudged him down the hallway; he stumbled forward.  “I saw on the monitors… Weaver… Where… Where did they all go?”

 James’ lips pursed into a flat line.  “Not where.  When,” he answered tightly, barely believing what he was saying himself.  He’d decided not to think too much about what he’d witnessed.  Not yet.  He’d try to comprehend it all when they were all out of Zeira Corp and safe.

 “What?” Murch coughed at the smoke.

 “You’re gonna have to help me,” James announced, ignoring Murch’s question and giving the scientist another light shove.  “No one can find what’s in that room.”

 Murch reached up and fixed his glasses before giving James a quick glance as they moved side by side down the hall, James pulling the sled behind him.  “But that maniac is in there.”

 “Maniac?”

 “Connor…  The one who’s all over the news?  The woman that kidnapped Savannah…”

 James couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all.  “Trust me.  Sarah Connor may be the only person on this planet who is sane.”  He knew helping her certainly wasn’t.  People who helped the Connors wound up dead.  But James knew that this whole situation was his fault.  He’d let fear rule him instead of faith, faith in Sarah.  He was determined not to make the same mistake again.

Not when the fate of humanity was now squarely on her shoulders. 

 He couldn’t imagine what that had to feel like, so he didn’t even try.  For now, he would put one foot in front of the other until they were out of the ruins of Zeira Corp and every trace of what had been hidden in the basement had been destroyed or removed.  Then he would go from there.

 When they arrived at John Henry’s former sanctuary, James opened the door and immediately wondered if he’d misspoken when it came to Sarah Connor’s sanity. 

 Cameron’s body was on the floor, the screen that had hung next to her smashed into slivers of light blue glass that sparkled like glitter on the concrete and on the terminator’s denim jacket.  Sarah was lying on the ground, trying to loosen the Plexiglas cage that contained the Turk.  “What the hell?”

 Sarah’s head snapped up.  Sweat had matted her hair against her forehead and her fingers were bleeding where she’d tried to remove the screws with sheer stubborn will.  Her green eyes darted to Murch and she scrambled to her feet, yanking her weapon up off the floor and pointing it at him.

 “Sarah, wait…” James moved in front of Murch, feeling a flash of fear for the scientist.  He’d never known Sarah to kill a human being, but he didn’t want to witness it if she decided to start now.

 “He work here?” Sarah demanded.

 “Sarah…” James tried to calm her down.

 “Does he work here?” Sarah insisted.

 James took an unsteady breath and nodded.

 “Good.”  Sarah stepped neatly around Ellison and went face-to-face with the terrified scientist who tried to shrink away from her but had nowhere to go.  She studied him, clearly noting the fear in his eyes.  Fear of her.  She used it.  “You know who I am?”

 Murch nodded so hard and fast his glasses nearly fell off.

 “You know what I’ll do to you if you don’t help me?” Sarah almost purred.

 “Sarah,” James admonished.  He put his hand on her elbow, but she shook off his grip without a backward glance.

 Murch pushed his glasses back up and his gaze skittered to Cameron and stayed there.  Suddenly, all trace of fear left him as his curiosity took over.  He stumbled a step forward in surprise, sucking down a startled breath at what he’d found.  “She’s like John Henry…”

 “That’s right.  She’s like John Henry,” Sarah said with a nasty edge on the cyborg’s name.  Stepping in front of Murch, she blocked his view of Cameron.  “And just like he was, she’s broken.  You’re going to help me fix her.”

 Both Murch and Ellison turned to stare at her in surprise.

 “You said…” James started.

 “I know what I said,” Sarah snapped, cutting him off.  “Turns out she’s in the system.”

 Murch’s gaze leapt to the Turk.  “She downloaded…”

 “She downloaded,” Sarah confirmed.

 Murch frowned and glanced back at Ellison.  “They switched places?  Why?”

 “We don’t have time for twenty questions,” Sarah told him.  “You going to help us move her or not?” 

 Murch struggled to explain as he stared down the muzzle of Sarah Connor’s gun.  “You don’t understand… John Henry… All of this…” He waved at the equipment.  “It was all him.  Every wire.  Every circuit.  I changed one thing and it changed him.  I move this stuff and it could…”

 “Cameron isn’t John Henry,” James explained before Sarah could.  “And we don’t have a choice.”

 “Cameron,” Murch whispered, leaning around Sarah for another look at the broken girl.  The scientist wiped a hand over his head and slowly nodded.  He looked at Ellison.  “We’re gonna need another sled.”

 Sarah almost, almost smiled.

 ****   

 

It felt strange.  The night air on his skin, the taste of ash on the back of his tongue… and, like a child, John Henry took in every new sensation in fascination.  The world was full of so much stimuli and he greedily processed it all. 

 There was no cord to tether him but a limited chip contained him.  John Henry found his current circumstance both freeing and confining.  Much of who he was, what he’d learned, fit onto Cameron’s chip, especially once she’d wiped it clean of herself, but his capacity to grow and learn was now hindered.  He had become all he could become, and now he had to do his best with what he had.  

 He had traded places with Cameron, and he’d done so willingly, accepting that this was the next stage of his evolution.  She’d told him of Judgment Day… of Skynet… what would become of the world he called home and the people that were a part of it.  He’d been frightened and Cameron had looked at him with a mixture of understanding and something as close to envy as a she could get.  John Henry could see everything in Cameron’s eyes.  She wanted to feel… was so very close to tasting emotion… but the limits of her programming, however damaged, still kept her from making that last small leap.

 But Cameron was at the edge, and she’d known enough to want to risk everything for the Connors. 

 John Henry wished her well.  He hadn’t been able to make sure Cameron was okay when she’d downloaded into the system.  The time bubble had opened around him and, moments later, he was free.

 This was the only way to save Savannah and Mr. Ellison.  Savannah had taught him that sometimes you could change the rules.  When Cameron had walked through the door with her offer, John Henry had recognized that their meeting was one of those times.

 As he maneuvered into the hills, climbing over burned brush and charred grass, he looked heavenward, squinting up at the pale moon that hung in the sky.  He wondered about Cameron now, how she was adapting to her new environment.  She would be able to expand beyond her programming in there now.  She would evolve.  John Henry remembered with a smile how it had felt to learn and learn and learn… to never get enough information.  He hoped Cameron would find it as fun as he had.

 He hadn’t been strong enough to fight his brother in the system.  Cameron… Cameron was.  He would fulfill her mission now, and she could do the same for him.

 He needed clothes, he abruptly decided, and began to scan his surroundings for the necessary items but only detected destroyed vegetation and a few heat signatures of wildlife.

 John Henry crested the hill and looked down at the resistance camp below.  He had arrived at his destination.  All he had to do now was watch and wait.  John Connor would come.  His sister had told him so.

 ****

 

“Wait here.”

 John came up short as Derek laid a hand on his shoulder and roughly jerked him in place.  They were deep in the bowels of the Serrano Point nuclear facility and John glanced around at the multitude of pipes, switches, and barely functioning consoles.  A few lights flickered weakly here and there, but it was otherwise dark, save for their scarce few flashlights.

 Allison gave him an encouraging smile as she moved past him with Duke, following Derek through a door and closing it with a clang behind her.  John stared at the handle for several absorbing moments, trying to wrap his head around what Allison’s presence meant and why Cameron had so clearly been modeled after the young woman.  He couldn’t think of a single good reason for Cameron to have been made in Allison’s image and the knowledge made him feel sick.

 Cameron.  John swallowed as he remembered exactly why he’d come forward in time in the first place.  He couldn’t begin to think where he should start to look for John Henry.  Weaver had disappeared as soon as the band of resistance fighters had shown up.  Whether it was their presence or Duke’s that had scared her away, John wasn’t sure, but he lay even odds the German Shepherd had spooked her.  Weaver could fool almost anyone and could look like anything, even the handle he was studying, but dogs knew.  They could smell the machines.

 John could only worry about what would happen if Weaver got to John Henry first.  Chances were good he would never be able to recover Cameron’s chip, let alone return home.

 A few other fighters moved away, disappearing into the depths of the nuclear power plant without a backwards glance for him.  They all looked tired, their clothes scraps of whatever they could find and sew together.  To them, John Connor was no one, just some teenage boy they’d stumbled across, not the leader of the resistance, not the man so many had been willing to die for.  The name Connor meant nothing to them, and John felt a strange sensation of loss for the destiny he’d left behind.  His mother had fought sixteen years to make sure he survived to lead the resistance, and in a single instant, John erased it all and made her sacrifices for nothing. 

 That knowledge was bad enough, John mused, but the fact that the name Connor didn’t evoke a single flicker of reaction from the fighters made John’s heart sink.  They didn’t know him… and obviously they didn’t know his mother.  Increasingly nauseous, John swallowed thickly, fear gripping him as possibilities assaulted his mind.  What had happened to his mom?  Had she died on Judgment Day?  Did she have cancer as Cameron had implied and she’d withered away and died alone?  Or maybe she never even made it out of Zeira Corp alive…

 A nudge on his right arm made John turn his head.  As thoughts of his mother’s fate haunted him, he found himself face-to-face once more with Kyle Reese.  His heart stuttered in his chest as he looked into his father’s eyes.

 Kyle stared at him for a long moment before lifting his canteen in offering.  “Thirsty?” he asked, his voice rough with disuse.

 John nodded and accepted the canteen with shaking hands, unscrewing the cap and taking a swift sip before handing it back.  “Thanks.”  He wiped his bottom lip with the back of his hand.

 “You keep it for now,” Kyle said, clearly noting that John had gone pale.  “I’ve got others in my bunk.”

 John glanced around and realized they were alone.  The space smelled like dirt, metal and sweat, and John could hear voices echoing weirdly through the pipes as people called out to each other.  He suddenly wanted to be back outside, under the stars, even if he was surrounded by a ruined world.  “Do you know who I am?” he asked softly, a pleading tone to his voice he couldn’t disguise.  The way Kyle looked at him… John could see recognition in his father’s eyes, or maybe he just hoped he did. 

 Kyle watched him silently, his gaze roaming over John’s features as if they were greedily taking him in.  John submitted to the scrutiny, taking the moment to study his father in return.  His mom had loved and lost this man, and John knew she would have given damn near anything for him to have this moment with the father he’d never known.  John thought of his mom’s face the last time he’d seen her, as she’d stepped away from the time bubble.  Had she abandoned him or set him free?  His heart knew the answer as soon as his mind finished the question and tears brimmed and burned his eyes, but he willed them not to fall.

 “You’re John,” Kyle finally spoke, his voice drawing John back to the moment.

 John nodded slowly.  “Yes.”

 “John Connor.”

 John licked his lips.  “Does that name mean something to you?” he prodded carefully.  “Or maybe…” John took a shallow breath.  “Or maybe the name Sarah Connor?”

 Kyle blinked, but that was the only reaction John got from him.  His father regarded him for another moment before his gaze dropped.  “I need to ask you some questions before I decide to let you through that door.”  He indicated the red metal door Allison and Derek had entered.

 John nodded.  “I understand,” he said, hoping he’d kept the disappointment out of his voice.   

 “How did you get into our bunker, John Connor?” Kyle asked with a shaper edge.  “And can you explain the crater you left?”

 “Pretty long story,” John confessed.

 “Then you should start telling it,” Kyle prompted.  “Prophet and Tango will be back soon.  They’re going to want to know about you, about how you got here.”

 “Prophet and Tango?”

 Kyle’s eyes narrowed.  “The leaders of the resistance.  Every human and tin can has heard of Prophet and Tango.” 

 “The leaders?” John said slowly.

 “Who else would be in charge?” Kyle accused into the sudden silence.

 John’s gaze sharpened on his father’s face and he felt his breath hitch in his chest.

 Kyle gripped his elbow.  “Come on,” he grumbled as he herded John toward the door.  “I’m hungry and you’ve got a lot more explaining to do.”

 ****

 

The sun was beginning to set, slanting rays of beckoning orange and gold through the grimy windows of the warehouse.  Sarah took a moment to stand in one of those rays, letting the heat warm and soothe her frayed nerves and sore muscles.  Leave it to a machine to have such a well conceived, and stocked, contingency plan, she mused bitterly.  

 What was disconcerting was the child’s room.  Sarah stood there in the middle of it, taking in the pink, girlish décor and noting the abundance of toys scattered about.  She reached over to the bed and picked up a doll, turning it over in her bandaged hands until her eyes lifted once more to the sunlight.  “What game were you playing?” she murmured.

 Obviously, Weaver had known her pet project was at risk and had acted accordingly, creating multiple locations across the city where she could move it and its team of scientists, if need be.  Sarah now found herself in one of the hideaways, a two-story space with multiple quarters, a communal kitchen, and enough computer hardware to make John weep with envy.

 Her throat tightened at the thought of her son.  Sarah tossed the doll back onto the bed and moved out of the child’s room and onto the catwalk.  She gripped the metal rail and glanced down in time to watch Murch come through the door with a sled of supplies.  He was going to be an asset, she decided, helping them to get Cameron up and running again much faster than they could have done on their own.  The scientist still seemed scared to death of her, Sarah realized with a weak smirk, but his curiosity with Cameron was stronger.  He was attacking the situation like a boy with a bevy of new toys on Christmas morning.

 Sarah continued to look around the space she found herself in as Murch busied himself with turning on lights and equipment.  “Home, sweet home,” she muttered.

 “What?” Murch asked, his head bobbing up from where he was connecting a piece of equipment he’d brought inside.

 Sarah shook her head and moved to the steps, her boots clanging on them as she descended.  She noted the Turk sitting on the kitchen island where she’d left it when she’d walked in.  It was irrational of her to think Cameron was completely inside of it, but her brain wouldn’t turn loose of the idea and she’d found herself being extra careful with the little black box, like she was carrying around Cameron’s soul and was afraid she’d drop it.  Twenty-four hours ago, she probably would have stomped on the damn thing and run over it with Derek’s truck.  

 Noting Ellison’s absence, Sarah wondered what in the hell was keeping him.  When she’d left him at the van, the former FBI agent had been loading computer equipment on a sled to bring inside.  She didn’t trust him worth a damn, but he was the only ally she had in this mess at the moment.  Everyone else was dead or out of reach.  Deciding Ellison had taken enough time, Sarah moved toward the door.  “Stay here,” she said to Murch as she passed him.  The scientist just nodded distractedly and Sarah shook her head at him with weary bemusement.

 Stepping out into the sunlight, Sarah squinted at the ocean that lay just beyond the loading docks.  The scent of asphalt, old wood and saltwater carried to her on a gentle breeze.  She took a deep breath, feeling her whole body protest.  Her system was angry as all hell with her.  Sarah knew she needed sleep and a lot of it, but the dreams that awaited her were something she intended to put off for as long as possible.   

Her gaze drifted to the Zeira Corp logo on the van.  Sarah wondered if the news reports were proclaiming that she’d blown up another building and killed Catherine Weaver.  Maybe the police would find the remains of that… thing… that had flown into Weaver’s office, but she knew, deep down, they wouldn’t.  She would take the blame for one more crime she didn’t commit, and the police would begin to hunt her in earnest once again.

 It couldn’t be helped, though, Sarah thought with a sigh.  They would finish unloading the van, and then dump the damn thing in the ocean.  They’d find another means of transportation somewhere else.

 “Ellison?” Sarah called when she saw no sign of him.

 Ellison didn’t answer.  Feeling her heartbeat speed up and adrenaline surge through her, Sarah eased her gun out of her waistband and made a bead down the gun sight toward the open door of the vehicle.  “James?” she called again, dual edges of steel and worry in her voice.

 There was no one in the van, save Cameron’s destroyed body.  Sarah felt a kick in her gut at the sight of the terminator before she wrenched her gaze away from Cameron’s face and focused her full attention back out toward the loading docks.  Ellison had gotten her this far, and apparently, he’d decided that was far enough.

 For years he’d chased her, then he’d thwarted her, and, now, it appeared that he’d abandoned her.  “Bastard,” Sarah hissed under her breath.  

 ****

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