So, while trying to get myself to write my Aliens fic this past weekend, I decided to have a Michael Biehn marathon. One of my movies was Terminator. That was a mistake. I spent the rest of the weekend trying NOT to write Terminator fic instead of the Aliens fic I'd planned on.

To appease the muse, I let myself plot out this little 5 and 1. Because really, there were SO many ways we could have kept Kyle alive.

Title: Five choices that might have changed the future…

Fandom: Terminator

Pairing: Kyle/Sarah

Rating: T

1.

T-800s didn't have a lot of weaknesses; hell, most people didn't think they had any. But John Connor had given him a crash course on all the possibilities in preparation for this mission. Granted, with these weapons those weaknesses would be a lot harder to penetrate, but he had to try. Any chance he saw would have to be taken if he wanted to save Sarah Connor.

He saw one of those chances in the club. The T-800 hadn't expected to be attacked, and it had gone down hard under the multiple blasts of the shotgun in Kyle's hand. It was motionless for just a moment, and Kyle was ready and waiting for just such an opening. He lunged to get in range, and aimed the shotgun at the Terminator's skull and the hidden CPU. One shot just mangled the hair and skin, and the second only dented the plating. But the third and fourth shots?

Kyle blew the plating off and obliterated the CPU, and the T-800 collapsed in a heap as smoke drifted out of the hole. One down, and God only knew how many to come in the next few years. He'd kill those, too when they came.

Knowing his mission was easy. But now came the hard part, he thought as he turned to survey the terrified young woman.

2.

Kyle picked up a gun in the police station. Then another, and another, grabbing up the automatics from the bodies he and Sarah passed as they escaped, slinging the straps over his shoulder until he was almost buried in weaponry. The weapons might not slow the Terminator by much. But they'd buy a little time for sure. Maybe even more than a little if he could teach Sarah to fire one, too.

Sarah was already learning though, he realized, as he glanced back to pull her out of the building and into the parking lot. She had another machine gun slung over her shoulder too, and a shotgun held in her free hand. Her eyes were still terrified, but the shotgun was steady in her hand. Her other hand gripped his tightly, showing no sign of letting go.

He grinned as they reached a battered old car and clambered in, tossing the weapons into the back seat behind them.

Kyle would make a soldier out of her yet.

3.

Kyle hated to do it, hated the fear and hint of suspicion that crept into Sarah's eyes at his actions, but he trusted his gut.

He ripped the phone cord right out of the wall.

It would be just like the caring woman he'd seen her to be to want to contact her family and tell them she was safe and not to worry. It was a good thought, one any person would likely tend towards.

He just couldn't allow her to do it.

It could only do more harm than good. Best case scenario, she'd reach one of them, and that person would alert the authorities to their location, eventually causing a repeat of the scene at the police station.

Worst case scenario, Sarah would call and the Terminator would already be there. It would mimic the loved one it had already murdered, and Sarah would give it fucking directions on how to find them.

No, it was better to simply take away the temptation.

4.

He bought out every supply he found in the first store, and the second, and then the third as well. If anyone though it odd that the tall young man was buying up so many mothballs and cans of turpentine, no one dared to say anything.

They made dozens of pipe bombs. Enough to fill up ever one of the duffle bags he'd bought, and he'd bought several.

By the time they were done, they had an arsenal. He just hoped it would be enough.

5.

The Terminator was still dragging its leg, and even through the pain, Kyle was searching through any weakness. The stairs, he thought. The stairs might just give them half a chance.

He pushed Sarah behind them, forcing her up and shielding her with his body. The Terminator followed slowly, the weakness putting it several steps behind them.

"Sarah, light the last one," he ordered tersely and felt her pull it from the bag slung over his shoulder. She reached the top of the stairs and lit the pipe bomb and he took it from her gingerly. He'd have to time this perfectly or risk blowing himself and Sarah to kingdom come along with the metal bastard.

He watched the Terminator climb one step at a time, its upper body becoming visible over the edge of the platform. Then Kyle lunged, slamming the bomb into the gaps of the Terminator's torso.

"Run!" he shouted, shoving Sarah ahead of him as they both sprinted as best they could toward the far end of the catwalk. With only seconds to spare, he shoved her to the grating and threw himself over her.

And the one choice that made sure their future came to pass…

Sarah wondered what it said about her, that she was all but falling all over herself to touch him, just once. But he was handsome and heroic and everything she might had dreamed of in a man if she'd ever let herself dream that far from reality.

And God, he'd sounded so broken. Love shouldn't hurt like that. Sarah wouldn't let loving her to hurt him like that.

So she kissed him, and ignored the voice in her head that told her she was crazy. Despite what he'd said, Kyle didn't kiss her back. Not the first time she kissed him or the second, and for just a moment Sarah wondered if she'd made the wrong choice, after all.

But then he came to life, kissing her back fiercely and holding her hard enough to bruise.

It didn't hurt.