I don't know why I glanced at Cameron. I'm not sure what I expected to read in her discordant eyes. We were parked on the gravel and dirt driveway about a quarter mile from the place I'd been calling home. Her human eye was misted over. A frown tugged the corners of her lips down.

"You okay, girlie?"

The frown changed quickly into a smile. "I am not the one who just fucked a disgusting killer cyborg from the future. I think I am more okay than you are."

"Fuck off, Cameron." If the bitch hadn't confiscated my gun earlier I would have aimed it at her metal head. "I meant what I said before. You breathe one word about what happened between me and Weaver and I personally will-"

"I know what you will do, Sarah. John will never know of the sacrifice you made for him. I am very good at keeping secrets."

My eyebrow arched. I was off my game. Too much time away from her. Then being thrown back together after what I did with Weaver. To say my head was fucked was putting it very mildly. I couldn't tell if she was baiting me, being agreeable, or just being her matter of fact self.

"Not anymore, Cameron. Not between us. No more secrets."

Her good eye narrowed. The red one just remained the same. "I am confused. When I attempted to tell you my plan to seduce John you told me you did not wish to hear about it."

I regretted not having the forethought to buy two bottles of tequila. The one I bought earlier was long gone. I closed my eyes and held my breath. It took two silent ten counts before I had gathered enough control to speak again. "Is that what you garnered from our little chat before? Do you think I did what I did to get my son his very own robo sex toy?"

"No, of course not. I just…" She trailed off. Her right hand brushed over the top of mine until I pulled it out of reach. Her cybernetic eye flickered to a brighter shade of red. "Your psyche is not at its peak performance level. Your blood pressure and pulse are nearing critical stages. I fear I am only angering you more. You are under a great deal of stress. It is not my intent to make matters worse. Perhaps it is best if I exercise the right to remain silent."

"You're not under arrest." I scoffed. Fucking Idiot. I wanted to shake her.

"I am sorry, Sarah. I chose the wrong words."

I thought about John. How tortured his mind was. The things he had seen and experienced. On his own. No family. No friends. No one to comfort him unless you counted Weaver and I certainly didn't. "If you think my psyche is messed up then wait until you get a load of John. According to Weaver the future he chased your sorry ass to was unimaginably worse than any of us could fathom." I raked my fingers through my hair and forced myself to look deep into her eyes. "John needs a friend. Someone to lend support, be a sounding board, and offer comfort, understand?"

She nodded solemnly.

"He does not need a fuck toy. Clear?"

She nodded again.

"Good. Then let's go. John needs your help. I need to shower into oblivion." I stepped out of the jeep to lead the way then turned back to face her. "By the way, Ellison is here. He lives with us now. Savannah does too. Get used to it."

"I am glad you found friends, Sarah. No one should be alone. It drains the soul."

"We aren't friends. This is a homeless shelter for misfit toys trying to stop Skynet."

"Toys? You just said-"

"Stop it. It's an expression."

The front door opened and John came running. A genuine smile lit up his face. He dashed past me and hugged Cameron. If not for her terminator weight I'm sure his enthusiasm would have knocked her on her ass. It was awkward at best, but she brought her hands up and tried to return the hug. John held onto her like a drowning man with a life preserver. I turned away when his shoulders began to shake from sobs.

Ellison stood in the doorway. His hand cupping his beaded chin. "Are you ok?"

I didn't bother to answer. Just glared on my way past him. I went straight to my room and into the shower.

When I was too tired to stand I sat down in the tub. All the hot water was gone. I'd scrubbed my skin raw in spots. And still I couldn't bring myself to turn the water off or get out. Tears blended with the shower water and swirled down the drain, carrying my hope with them. I used the side of the bathtub as an armrest and dropped my head forward.

At some point I must have drifted off. The next time I opened my eyes the daylight coming in through the bathroom window was gone. The room was chilly. I was still in the tub but the water had been turned off. A towel and two blankets covered me. There was a glass of water and a sandwich sitting near where my head had lain.

Someone had checked on me. John wouldn't have come in my bathroom. The possibility of seeing me naked would have made him sick to his stomach. Ellison was most likely concerned for my well-being but had enough sense to stay out of my bathroom and bedroom. That left Cameron. Good God, was there no end to the indignities I had to be subjected to from terminators?

I drank the water and ate half the sandwich before I managed to stand. Shivers made me a bit unsteady. I wrapped the towel and blankets tighter around me and opened the door to the bedroom.

"Aunt Sarah?" Savanah asked.

'Hey kiddo." I tried for nonchalant but the chill was making my teeth chatter.

"You must have been really tired. I've never seen anyone sleep in a bathtub before. Was it comfortable?"

"I wouldn't recommend it. I stepped forward and drew her in for a hug. "How long have you been here."

She checked the Cinderella watch on her wrist. "Almost two hours. At first Cameron kept me company. I'm glad she's back even though she looks different. She said she had an accident."

"She kept you company in here? My room?"

"Uh huh, she was collecting all your guns. Said she was going to…" she trailed off, her freckled face coloring. "I messed up. I wasn't supposed to say."

"That bit-" I cut myself off. Savannah's crestfallen features got to me. "It's okay, honey. You can tell me. We don't keep secrets from each other, right?"

"I heard her and Uncle James talking. They said it was best to keep all the weapons away from you for your own protection. I don't understand how taking them away will protect you since you told me you keep them for protection."

Before my rage could get the best of me I remembered just a few days ago when I had hidden all the weapons from John. I supposed I didn't have the right to be too self-righteous with my anger. I'd been pretty wasted at the time but I had a vague recollection of pointing a gun at my head. I don't think I would have actually pulled the trigger. Thankfully I'll never know since Cameron had been there to take the Glock away from me.

"Where is tin miss?"

Savannah laughed. "You really can connect anyone to Oz can't you?"

A pain shot between my shoulder blades when I went to ruffle her hair. I squeezed my eyes closed until it eased up. "Most times I can." I agreed once I could breathe easily again.

"Uncle James said that's your superpower."

I scoffed. "That's a pretty bogus superpower. Next time you talk to him tell him his superpower is being bald."

Savannah blinked at me. Then her nose crinkled and she had a good laugh.

"So, do you know where Tinhead is?"

"Watching TV with John and Uncle James. She wanted me to ask you if she could talk to you alone. Do you want me to go get her?"

Shit. That can't be good. A hundred different scenarios involving John flittered through my mind. "That'd be great. Thank you, Savannah. Just tell her to give me five minutes to get dressed."

Savannah came forward for a quick hug before leaving the room. The warmth radiating off her broke through the chill that had been consuming me. I smiled after her. I returned to the bathroom and turned my back to the mirror above the sink. A large gauze pad covered the area causing me pain. Blood had seeped through the bandage. Fuck.

I pulled on a pair of pants and a long sleeve shirt. Somehow I was cold and hot at the same time. My stomach felt twisted in on itself. A fog was settling in my brain.

Cameron knocked softly and waited for me to tell her to come in before she did. She still had the hoodie on and stood so only the human side of her face was showing. "Is John okay?"

"He will be." She gave her most solemn nod. "As you said, he needs time."

"No more attempts to harm himself?"

She shook her head. "I believe he is past that. At least for now."

"It looked like he was happy to see you."

"Yes," her lips gave a slight upward twist. "As happy as he is capable of being right now. He has even laughed a few times while watching a strange show about a nameless doctor."

"Dr. Who."

"I do not know his name. He just calls himself the doctor."

"No, I wasn't asking. I was… fuck it. Never mind. If John's okay then what do you want?"

"We have a problem, Sarah."

"Only one?" I managed a half smile at my lame joke.

"No. Several in fact. However one is most pressing."

"And which one would that be?"

"Your back."

"I didn't go anywhere." I said. "I've been here. You're the one who just came back."

A small smile graced her lips. "I meant the possessive your, not you are."

"Oh," I nodded. I blamed my sanity lapse on the hangover, possible fever, and various other BS recycling in my head. "Yeah," I agreed. "My back does hurt. Thanks for the first aid. It was just a couple scratches. Why do you think it's still bleeding?"

"You aren't going to like this."

"Out with it."

"May I have another look?"

"Fine." I sighed and turned away from her. I suppressed the urge to flinch when she grasped my shirt and raised it just enough so she could reach the bandage. She slowly pulled it away from my skin. It pain increased when exposed to the air. "It hurts like hell. What's wrong?"

"It is infected."

"There are antibiotics in that bag of medicine Weaver gave me. I'll take some-"

"No, Sarah. It is more serious than that. Your vitals are crashing and spiking. Are you having difficulty breathing?"

I hadn't really thought about it but since all I was doing was standing still and I seemed to be panting I guessed I was having some issues. "Yeah, and I'm cold one minute and hot the next. What the fuck did Weaver do to me?"

"I'll show you." She let my shirt fall back into place and stepped forward with a cellphone in her hand. "You should sit down."

I sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the phone but she pulled it out of reach.

"You need to prepare yourself. Please try to remain calm."

"Give me the fucking phone."

Cameron dutifully handed it over. A video showed a close up of four scratches between my shoulder blades. They were all between two and three inches in length. Each of them looked red and puffy. Blood still oozed from them. Not a pleasant sight but nothing to make me freak out. At first. Then I saw it.

It happened so fast I wasn't sure I had seen correctly. Before I could ask her to rewind it Cameron said, "Keep watching. It happens more than once."

Bile rose in the back of my throat. A wave of dizziness and nausea slammed over me. I dropped the phone.

"We need to contact Weaver at once. I sent Ellison back to the hotel, but she was no longer there."

"What the fuck did you tell him?"

"Please remain calm. The spikes are getting higher and coming more frequently. Your chance of having a heart attack or stroke is increasing every moment."

"You'd be freaking out too if metal was running through- Fuck." I cut myself short realizing belatedly I was talking to a machine. "What does Ellison know?"

"He only knows what he surmised. That you made an unknown deal with Weaver for my return. He knew that much without my saying anything. I did not think you would like it if I brought John with me to see Weaver or if I left him alone to go see her. I had no choice but to ask Ellison. I told him nothing other than we needed her help. Unfortunately she was not there."

"Okay," I closed my eyes and held my breath when another sharp pain hit. "How do we get that metal shit out of me?"

"I do not know. It is liquid. It flows. I am unable to grasp it with tweezers. I tried."

"I have a number for Weaver. Bring me that phone over there." I tried to raise my arm to point the phone out, but the arm wasn't cooperating. "On the dresser."

She handed me the phone. I was unable to grasp it. "Scroll through the contacts until you see metal-"

"Metal piece of shit." Cameron finished for me. "I think it might be best if we change that before we meet her. It's ringing." She held the phone out so I could hear it."

"Good evening, Sarah."

"What the fuck did you do to me?"

"There is no need to shout, Sarah. I assure you I have no idea what you are talking about. What is the matter?"

"The matter… the matter is…" I suddenly couldn't get my thoughts in order. When I did my tongue wouldn't work. New symptoms kept bombarding me.

"Sarah is having a reaction to the scratches. It is getting worse."

"What is getting worse?" Weaver's brogue made the question sound humorous in my raddled brain.

"Traces of you appear to be circulating in her bloodstream. I am able to see it but am unable to remove it."

"Hmmm," Weaver stretched out the sound. "I have never encountered this dilemma before. All the times I have cut someone in the past I have cut to kill. Tell me more of her symptoms."

I listened through a fog as Cameron listed everything.

"I will get a team on it immediately." Weaver announced. "In the meantime I will send a helicopter to bring Sarah here."

I tried to voice an objection. The best I could do was grunt.

"I do not believe Sarah wants to be alone with you again."

"Then come with her. We can regenerate your face. The process will take forty-eight hours. While you await the helicopter you should begin flushing Sarah's system. She needs to consume as much water as possible posthaste. If she is able she should exercise. If not, cover her in blankets. Sweat may help release the toxin."

"Of course." Cameron seemed flustered. Like she couldn't fathom why she hadn't thought of those treatments herself. "Call if you think of anything else that may help."

"Sarah, if you can hear me I am very sorry this has happened. It was never my intention to harm you."

My 'fuck you' came out sort of like 'fuffu,' but I imagine she got the gist. Cameron ended the call before I could be certain.

"I need to talk to John." Came out as "IneetarkJohn."

"Easier said than done, Sarah. I will go get him."

"Mom," John surprised me with a tight hug when he rushed into the room a minute later. I wanted to hold him just as tightly. Too bad my arms weren't following orders. I sat on the bad like an armless Weeble. "Are you okay?" There was warmth behind his green eyes making them the bright eyes I'd missed for far too long.

A verbal response would have negated what I was trying to say. I went for a nod and wound up falling against his shoulder.

"I know you made some crazy deal with Weaver to get Cameron back. What did she do to you?"

"Doesn't matter." Came out as "Doze mat."

"Oh God. What's wrong with her? Is she having a stroke?"

"No. Your mother is not having a stroke." She touched my shoulder, no doubt doing a biometric scan. "Not Yet."

"Your bedside manner sucks, Cameron. How can we help her? Should we go kidnap a doctor or-"

"No." Cameron interrupted him. "We know what is causing it. Weaver is sending a helicopter to pick us up and take us to the cure."

"How do we know it'll be a cure and not whatever it takes to finish my mom off?"

That's my boy. It was reassuring to hear him talking like a Connor with a mission again. I commended him for it but it came out in such a garbled mess even Cameron couldn't translate it. I was forced to mostly listen. Not one of my best talents. I'd much rather act.

We all agreed Ellison and Savannah should be gone before the chopper arrived. Other than that we couldn't agree on much. I thought I should go alone and face whatever fate Weaver had in store without putting John or Cameron in any more danger. Cameron wanted to go with me. Like the Tin Man who wanted a heart she wanted a new face so she could show it in public when we needed her to play bodyguard. She and I wanted John to go with Ellison and Savannah.

John, of course, hated that plan. He'd only just gotten Cameron back. He wasn't going to give her up without a fight. As much as I hated eventually having to give in and let him go with us to Weaver's it did make me feel good to see him no longer cowering. He was thinking things through, weighing pros and cons, and reaching valid conclusions. His arguments were powerful and articulated in a way that reminded me of all his father's best qualities.

Savannah and Ellison had only been gone ten minutes when the air stirred overhead. Followed by the rhythmic thumping of the chopper blades as it set down in front of the home. The high winds made the house shake. Through the window I saw roof shingles soaring briefly before crashing to the dust. Weaver had stirred up her own mini tornado.

The pain in my back increased tenfold. It was all I could do to stay conscious. Through a fog I heard the phone ring and Weaver's voice, giving instructions to Cameron. I was unceremoniously pressed face down on my stomach. John held my left side down. Cameron kept the other half in place. It didn't take long before I knew what that cute little blonde kid must have felt like in the Poltergeist movie. If not for John and Cameron's forceful holds I would have been flying through the air like a magnet toward Weaver.

The liquid metal in my back shot out like pellets from a shotgun shell. I couldn't see it happening but I imagined them zinging back and reforming with the rest of Weaver. I collapsed on the bed. John and Cameron released me. The cuts on my back felt like they'd been set on fire. I lay there panting and prayed for sleep.

88888888

As the saying goes there's no rest for the wicked or the weary. After getting stitched and bandaged my motley crew and I joined Weaver in her helicopter. I didn't want to be anywhere near Weaver. Sadly there were only three empty seats and John wouldn't leave Cameron's side. The two of them squeezed into the back row of seats leaving me stuck as Weaver's co-pilot.

Weaver wore jeans and a long sleeve white shirt. Her long red hair tied back in a loose pony tail. Mercifully, mirrored sunglasses covered her eyes. I glanced away and made the mistake of looking behind me. I caught a glimpse John cradling Cameron's hand in his. My stomach flipped and flopped. Bile rising up so fast I had no choice but to grimace and swallow.

A good portion of my brain screamed for me to rip them apart. Perhaps it was a good thing I was too exhausted to act on my urges. It allowed me time to reflect. I remembered the Uncle Bob terminator interacting with an old friend's family. How the machine attempted to play with the child. Then he listened to John and gained a whole new useless vocabulary. He used the new words, and attempted to smile and emulate John. At first I was frightened by it all. Here was my son, future leader and savior of mankind giving the villains the keys to the castle. But that wasn't it at all. It was John teaching both races the value of all life. Finding the good in all creations. Extending the olive branch.

By the time Uncle Bob made us terminate him we had all learned new things about ourselves and them. John got his first glimpse of what it was like to have a man in his life who would lay down his life for him. To be of uppermost importance to someone other than me. He learned to love and respect his protector. His protector learned there was more to life than missions. Humans were not enemies. It is not necessary to shoot to kill. Most importantly he learned what it meant to feel pain even when there was no physical ache to cause it. I learned tolerance and acceptance. I longed for peace. If that meant co-existing then so be it.

I wondered, not for the first time, what would have happened if John had been able to convince Uncle Bob and I that it wasn't absolutely necessary to destroy him in that vat. Years later and we all know his death served no purpose. The machines are unrelenting. Always picking new times, places, ways to strike, different models to wreak greater havoc. Would the three of us have gone into hiding? Would we have formed a dysfunctional family for John's sake?

Uncle Bob's sacrifices are what made it possible for me to come to terms with Cameron. I hadn't wanted to let her get so close to John. I saw the signs. I didn't want to but I had no choice.

Cameron was smiling when I turned around again. It was probably because of something John had said or done. She couldn't have read my thoughts. The right corner of my mouth twitched at the bizarre thought. Cameron noticed and her own smile widened.

John smiled too. I didn't look to see what Weaver was doing. I couldn't have cared less. I was just happy to see a pure expression on my son's face. It was good to see him experiencing something joyful after he'd seen way too much sorrow. So, for today I accepted the handholding. I closed my eyes and hoped to sleep.

One last thought flitted through my brain before I drifted off. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? I still have my gun. I could always shoot the smile right off Cameron's face in the morning.

I apologize for taking two years to update this fic. All I can say is, "writing is hard." It's a new year and once again my resolution is to be better about updating so here's hoping I do another update on this before the next new year. :D And If you're also reading Tortured Soul I'm working on an update for that one too.