John Connor (stop_skynet) wrote in nemetonlog, @ 2014-09-07 22:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | john connor |
Backdated
Who: John Connor
When: Night [backdated to 8pm]
Where: His apartment room
What: Another ghost visit
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Just more feels, and maybe slight language
Status: Complete; narrative
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John hadn't been having the best week with the tree's antics. Err, magic tree. Of course it was magic. Which also meant that as with most magic, it tended to be unpredictable. He'd still been reeling from his encounter with Janelle, his foster mother. That had brought out some deep-rooted regret that was buried in him for so long, forgotten for the most part, one of many who died. That seemed to be how those metal things worked. His father had once told his mother that they don't feel pity or remorse, no fear, no feeling, just the mission. They don't care if an innocent is blocking the path. Accepted casualties, apparently. And now he was left with the guilt. Though the logic part of his mind was telling him he shouldn't be too harsh, there honestly was nothing he could do to have saved Todd and Janelle at the time, much like Sarah couldn't have done a damn thing to stop the first cyborg from taking down half the cops in the precinct to get to her.
He had been visited by another apparition the night before. A blond girl named Jordan Cowan, from his school in 2007. The jumper. There had been a secret about her and someone else, the type of thing that could destroy, a secret which was being artistically drawn at various parts of the building.. which had quickly drove her toward the roof. He had wondered if his protector Cameron had been indirectly responsible when it spoke to the girl. Cam wasn't exactly normal, some human phrases and jargon was lost on her. And.. dammit, John had seen her on the roof and was going to rush up there to stop her. Why he didn't? Only reason why he couldn't. He was prevented by Cameron. Don't be a freak, she had said. He understood. Don't make a scene. Don't draw attention, resist the urge to be noticed or special, and saving a jumper would make the news; and of course would also send one of them after him again. She had come to him now as a ghost, confused at first as she didn't know him, but he recalled having passed her a few times that day in the halls. He regretted not being up there to talk her back. Another surprise, this ghost had not been angry. Just.. more like disappointed and regretful about the choice, wishing she could take it back but at the same time accepting it. He had acknowledged it, albeit slightly grudgingly, but gave a nod and spoke that he understood as well, even though he still had thoughts about saving her.
John was now in his living room area, laying down on the couch. He hadn't felt like going back to the bedroom. Windows and other thing needed repair. He felt safer out here. It was eight o'clock now, and he could feel his eyelids getting heavy. And then slumber had finally come. It seemed a peaceful sleep for the most part. His mind was wandering in dreams. It was nearly a half hour before he slowly opened his eyes to see sunlight coming through the windows. He squinted and saw a figure in the door frame approaching.. the outline was male, dirty blond hair, just a few years older than him, a few scars.. and a long green camo overcoat. He knew that coat! He had to be imagining, he thought. As the man stepped into view, John immediately recognized him. It was someone he met while in the future. And yet the man seemed a few years older than that point. It was his father. Kyle Reese. "Hey," the man said, sitting down across from him. "John? Hey. John, you awake?"
John sat up, rubbing his eyes as he gazed at him. "Now, sure," he said, not even needing to yawn now. He was wide awake. For seeing the man who gave him to his mother, who died saving her? Hell yes, he was awake for this. "Wait.. you know me, right? Not just because we met after I stole your jacket. You know that I.. that I'm umm.." He was trying to find the words to say it. Hey surprise, you're my dad from the future was sounding a bit crazy to say out loud.
"My son," Kyle said with a nod, "yes, I do know you. Not as a stranger, but a father. And this isn't just a dream. I'm here. How is.. how is she? Her."
John knew who he meant. He was asking about Sarah Connor, his mother. "She's okay. Tough, but cool. I've never seen her here. I have her picture." Seeing the look on Kyle's face then, the feeling of having lost her in his death.. he quickly took out his wallet and opened it. And there was the old photo from 1984. The picture with Sarah in the jeep with a sad, faraway look on her face. He saw how Kyle stared at it now. He knew without a doubt that they did love each other. "You know, I.. uh, I wish you had survived. You know, to have lived and been around me."
"I wish that too," Kyle said softly, a solemn nod as he remembered those few days. "Might have screwed up the timeline if I met my future self later. I get it though, I'd loved to at least have seen you born." He paused. "John. Your mom might have wanted to know. I have to ask. Have you prepared?"
"For the future, you mean," John said. "Err.. sort of? I mean, I've been trained by mercs and former Army guys ,and my mom, in how to fight. I'm great with computers. And I have been going to shooting practice. Um, sometimes." He felt slightly embarrassed on that part, knowing that constant practice would keep him sharp. "The future here isn't the same as from our world. I know, expect anything," he added quickly, seeing the man shake his head and have a stern gaze, "and there might be one or possible futures where it might happen. And I'm on the lookout for anything strange. Or stranger, with that tree's crap that it does. And maybe lacrosse keeps me in shape and active too. Met friends there in school also."
Kyle nodded, that seemed good for the moment as he accepted it. "Okay, so you can fight and a good.. hacker, so you're a techie too. And lacrosse.. what the hell is that?" He listened to the brief overview of it and nodded, though it was a hesitant type of nod, like an Sure, I guess it makes sense but not really type look. "And friends. That's good to have. I'm glad. But what about supplies, weapons? Any hidden cache or stockpile somewhere? Just in case?"
"I'm glad too," John said. He really was. He had an idea that Kyle thought friends were good as possible soldier recruits but he didn't think on that much. "Umm.. not a cache or all that, no. There's a weapons dealer that I know of here, he has a lot. But I might raise a few eyebrows if I just went up to him and was like, 'Hey, can I buy some heavy firepower and ammo that I can store in a bunker in case robots take over?', or even just going to buy that much equipment at once is.. well, it's weird. Plus, I go to school with his daughter, and her friends are on the lacrosse team and.. well? Just saying that they'd probably all look at me funny if I suddenly wanted to buy up a big arsenal."
Kyle sighed, not seeming to understand the reasoning right away. They'd both been to a post-apocalypse future raved by war and death, Kyle actually lived it, and John was.. concerned about other people's thoughts. He probably did have a point, maybe. "Alright, probably a third party on your behalf, could see about that option." Kyle can tell John wasn't fully enthused about it just yet. "So, anything else going on?"
"Aside from the magic tree? And that you're here, with other ghosts? Not much. But there is one.." He took a breath, wanting to have told him this since they'd talked tonight. "You have a grandson. Or you will. Not definite, but possible. Possible timeline that might or not happen, wouldn't expect it, but maybe a small chance. His mom is definitely cool. We have game night sometimes. Anyway, point is, in one future I have a son and name him after you. Kyle Connor."
That made the young soldier's heart almost leap. Not just a son, but grandson? That was great news. And seeing John's face, he could see he was very proud of him. "So, he's a good kid. No worries in his future? What about the metal.. are they, or was there a.." He made a 'boom' gesture with his hands.
"No, thank God, no," John said with a nervous laugh and smiling as he remembered. "No machines or damn Skynet in his time. No war or stuff we saw where you're from. Yeah, he's.. he was awesome. If I ever do have a child here, I'd want them to be just like him. He's so much like me and his mom. Sorta sad to have seen him go but I at least know that.. I know.. he's happy. He has a good life. That's.. you know, it's more than I'd ever though possible. I'd gotten used to living in crap and to learn of a possible happy future.. and the other kids never mentioned war machines, so this place can be happy without all that bad stuff."
As John had been speaking, Kyle had noticed great feeling as he talked, great emotion and pride from that experience. And hearing it spoke of, Kyle himself felt good from it. "SO he has my name. And you raised him good, and he's safe," he said, reaching out his hands. It wasn't a common gesture in his time but he understood it during his 1984 trip so he put his arms around John in a firm hug.
John was almost surprised at it, mostly because it was something he had always wanted. To meet his father. To be accepted, and also embraced by him, something he had often wished but knew it was never to be. But now it was. It was happening right now. He reached his own arms around in return, not wanting to let go. "Thank you," he said with a light sigh, "for everything. I.. I wasn't able to save everyone. My foster parents. The people who got in the way of the machine when it was.. when it was.."
"No," Kyle said with assurance, but also firm, "that's not you. It's them. These things, they carry death with them. Sometimes innocents are caught up in it.. sometimes even if you told them before, they don't believe until it's too late. I told those cops and Silberman, they laughed and called me crazy. And then it came. You know the rest."
"Silberman, don't remind me," John said annoyed as he remembered that guy. "But.. but Janelle and Todd. That girl Jordan, I should have.."
"No, John," Kyle said again, "I told you it isn't on you. That stuff.. it happens. Wish it didn't, but it did. You weren't even there for most of it. It was out of your control. All we can do is remember them and try to save the next ones. Be strong, don't stop caring, don't stop fighting. And remember I'll always love you. And that you can make your own fate. No fate-"
"-but what we make for ourselves," John finished, remembering the message. "I love you too. Kyle would have too. Mom did, and always will." He fell silent after that, closing his eyes, his father hadn't spoken or asked questions further either. John felt a lulling sense, as if time was slowed to a stop, all that mattered was that he'd met his father. The next thing he knew, he was on his back. Slowly opened his eyes and saw that it wasn't actually daytime. It was still night. He glanced up at the wall clock. 9:30. He rubbed his eyes as he opened them, laying quietly in silence on his couch. A dream. Damn, only a dream. Or was it? He quickly felt himself on the shoulder, along the back, and shoulder again; a lingering feeling of contact that must have happened, however brief. So it was real! If it turned out not to be.. well, he didn't consider that. He chose not to. He needed this. He needed to believe. And plus, with what he felt now, physical and psychological, without doubt.. as far as he was concerned, this was a true ghostly visitation. One which he would hope to always remember for the rest of his life.