John tossed and turned on the uncomfortable springs of the seat. Even though it was a comfortable temperature in the garage, he felt like he was suffocating. He drifted in and out of sleep, periodically waking up to see his mother sitting in front of him. Her eyes were locked on the terminator standing guard at a window, the pistol lay nearby.

She was still weary of it.

But she was human, unlike the machine, and needed sleep. John was half awake when she settled herself across the front seat.

He drifted off again.

The next time he awoke, he could hear her soft breathing. Very carefully he peeked around the seat to see her fast asleep, whimpering silently. The pistol was on the dash.

He turned his attention to the machine which was still gazing out the window, shotgun in hand. It's head swung slightly from left to right, scanning for danger.

John slipped out of car and walked over to it. It glanced at him a moment before going back to it's watch. It surprised him when it spoke.

"You should sleep. It is vital to your body's functions"

He laughed a little at that.

"Yeah, well, those burgers messed up my body's functions so I can't sleep."

It stopped and looked at him. When he first met the terminator, it's gaze would make him take a step back. But this look was different, almost like it was concerned. But maybe it was just that he could hardly see him through the shadows.

"Do you require medicinal treatment?"

John shook his head, "It's nothing. Future military leaders can't whine over a stupid stomach ache, now can they?"

He joked, playfully punching the android on the arm. He hissed silently at the pain. It went back to its relentless searching.

"Now do you require medicinal treatment?"

"No, I'm good." He shook his hand to return the feeling to it.

For a while they both gazed out at the traffic. It was getting too boring. John thought up of something to say.

"What would happen if you were to eat something?"

It answered automatically.

"Food consumption is not one of my functions."

"But what if you did? Would it get jammed in your gears or whatever?"

"Any particles that are ingested are dissolved in seconds due to highly acidic conditions."

"So it's like you have heartburn 24/7 huh? No wonder you look so pissed all the time. So what would happen if you drank something?"

"It would be evacuated."

John gave him a look at that one.

"So you have plumbing…down there?"

He quickly flicked his eyes downward then back up. The terminator processed this statement and studied John's movements. It answered accordingly.

"I have no "plumbing", any liquid is dispelled through the skin."

"Oh, like sweating. So you'll look more human."

"Correct."

The pair watched as a police car came around the corner. John could feel his body tense, the terminator lowered the shotgun off it's shoulder. Luckily it drove by harmlessly before fading off into the night. The machine replaced the weapon back to it's original position, the teen sighed with relief before slumping into a folding chair.

"This is my life now huh? Running from the law, dodging killer robots?"

"Your life is to be the future leader of the human resistance."

It explained calmly, as if everyone knew that information.

"Yeah, but my life still sucks."

The machine could offer no answer as such terminology was not in his databanks. It wisely remained quiet as the boy went on.

"I mean, I've only had maybe one or two friends. All the foster parents I've had were lousy dicks that only took me in because I was a tax break, my mother has been declared legally insane, now I'm on the run from a liquid metal man with knives for hands. Why me?"

He ran his hands over his face. The terminator could see droplets of water forming at the corner of his eyes. It had no records of this bodily process and it was clueless on why he chose to do such a thing. It was the second time he had seen the boy in such a state.

"I never had anyone to really talk to. All the kids just kept to their Game Boys, I kept to my ATM hacking. People just looked at me like I was nothing more than a punk. Then my mother sees me for the first time in months and all she can do is yell at me for being stupid. I-I just want…"

He trailed off at that last sentence. The look that the machine was now giving him was part confusion, part concern. John cleared his throat and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

"Jesus, listen to me cry like a baby. Some leader I'll turn out to be."

"I do not see how liquid seeping from your eyes has any connection with events in the future."

"It's complicated, I'll explain later."

The terminator nodded curtly. John began to talk about other things as he wondered around the garage inspecting various tools.

"I know she loves me, I guess, but it's almost as if she doesn't want to show any emotion. Like I'll get soft or something. I know she'll probably hate this, but you and her are a lot alike."

It was perplexed by the assessment. "I am comparable to a female?"

John chuckled and wavered his hands. "No, not at all. I think your attitude does. Both of you are so serious, it would be funny if you two got married…"

The T-101 had just opened it's mouth to reply when another voice chimed in.

"I think there are laws against people marrying killing machines."

It was Sarah, awake and standing a few feet away. John wondered how long she had been there. She matched the hard gaze of the machine with one of her own.

"The only man I would ever marry was killed by one of these. I would rather die than do such a thing."

"Geez mom, I was just kidding."

Now she fixed that gaze on her son. "Don't. Not about that."

Realizing how harsh she sounded, she lightened her tone.

"John, go back to sleep. You need to rest."

He brushed her off. "In a minute."

Sarah took one last glance at the android before going back to the car. John pointed in her direction.

"See what I mean? She doesn't even smile."

"Smile?"

"Yeah, like this."

Using his mouth, John turned the corners of his lips upward exposing teeth. The machine studied the contours of his face, mapping out every movement of every muscle. It's CPU turned it into a electronic sequence which was then transferred to it's own face of living tissue.

The result must've been somewhat unsuccessful, John's voice carried a distinct tone, the CPU recognized it as 'lying.'

"Good, nice try. You just need to work on it a little…"

It's face quickly dropped back to it's usual scowl.

John went back to exploring the toolboxes for usable items, he tried to get the machine's creepy smile off his mind. All he found besides lots of hardware was a denim jacket, a broken watch, and…

"Hey look!"

John held a pair of perfectly good sunglasses in his hand. He held them out to the machine.

"A present for listening to me, just don't tell anyone I cried."

The android took them from his hand and put them on.

It smiled.

John winced.