John Connor (johnbaum) wrote in omega_reality, @ 2011-03-21 11:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | *complete, 2011 03, character: brian kinney, character: john connor |
RP: John and Brian
Who: John Connor and Brian Kinney
Where: The Base -- Director's house to the Club
When: Monday, March 21, 2011 -- late evening
Summary: John's starting to break.
One would think a new case assigned to the White Collar unit would have had John's mind occupied with new searches. Or, he could find distraction in the covert research Vance had him and Garcia doing on the politicians. Or, there were even physics equations to get lost in for hours. Except none of that was what was on his mind as he sat in his room scrolling through tech blog after tech article on his laptop. He wasn't looking for dimensional theories or basic principles that didn't exist in his timeline.
John was looking for AI. Machines.
It was the twenty-first of March. In exactly one month, his world was going to end and if he didn't get out of here to stop it, or do what he was supposed to do and lead, everything could be lost. And, too much had been lost already. Too many people had already died for him because they believed in him and his ability to stop this war. If he couldn't find a way home, all those lives were lost for nothing.
His father, Derek, Charlie, Riley...Allison, Cameron, Bedell, even Jesse and Andy Goode.
All dead because of him in some way.
And John was stuck here while the John Connor from this dimension was probably just getting more people killed in his ignorance of everything.
What was the point of all this, why give him this task and all the training that went with it, if it wasn't going anywhere?
No Fate but what you make. His mother's favorite saying.
And it was such bullshit. They hadn't been making their own Fate. They'd been training and preparing him to meet the one already set out for him head on. Maybe he could have walked away. But, that would just put all that needless waste of life on his head, all that blood on his hands for nothing. Nothing but wasted sacrifices.
That's what they were now.
John Connor, the great leader of mankind, was the babied youngest member on a team that might save themselves, might save this world, maybe even their own. But, his world, the world he'd vowed to save and those sacrifices had been made for, was going to be destroyed because he was here. The one who was supposed to save them all, who all those hopes had been pinned on, was stuck fucking here playing secret agent with a government that was just as bad as the idiots who would bring Skynet online.
Just because my mother said it doesn't make it so. I'm not a child anymore; I can go to the store or see a friend or do whatever the hell else people like me do.
There are no other people like you.
Cameron's words had haunted him since the day Charlie's wife, Michelle, was killed. Because of him. One more life gone because of him and he was going to fail them all if he couldn't get home in the next month. Damn it! Shutting the laptop off, he snapped it shut and practically threw it aside on the bed before grabbing his gun and his jacket.
It had gotten cold again, but John didn't care, just walked with no direction in mind once he got out of the house. He was beginning to feel just as cold inside, the weird kid who knew too much and who was tired of playing dumb. For his entire life, he'd wanted to be normal, unimportant, just another face in the crowd. Be careful what you wish for, someone had told him. He hadn't listened, of course. And, isn't that exactly what he had here?
Only, it wasn't.
The sound of music brought him out of his thoughts. His feet had walked without his head paying attention to where they were going and had brought him past the club. Too bad he wasn't a 'normal' teen. Surrounding himself with loud music, sitting in a corner and brooding for hours on how fucked up his life was, sounded pretty damned fantastic right about then. John could already hear his mother bitching about losing sight of the mission and keeping his eye on the goal.
As if he could forget the mission. He was trying to forget the mission. And all that did was make him think about it more, see their faces every night when he closed his eyes. John wasn't normal. He had things to do, things there was no one else to help him finish.
There are no other people like you.
Even here, he was still special. Not just the weird kid who knew too much. The weird kid who knew too much that could cause too much harm. Savannah thought being from a different dimension made him distance himself from the others. That wasn't even the half of it. He'd seen the past and the future and he'd walked the streets of both. He was supposed to be as old as Parker or April or Abby. Somewhere in there. But, he was only eighteen. He was supposed to be saving his world. But, he was here.
And alone.
He didn't even know if his mother was still alive in his world. She wasn't here. She'd had cancer, just like they suspected at home. And she'd died. What if she was dead in his world and the last thing he'd done was defy her, again, to run after Cameron/John Henry and fuck up the future. He'd fucked up and everyone who had died for him had died in vain.
Kicking the wall at the side of the club, John then turned to put his back to it before sliding down to sit in the shadows. Both hands ran through hair that was finally starting to grow out again after he'd chopped it all off in a fit of pique the night they'd almost convinced him to destroy Cameron. Lacing his fingers behind his neck, he propped his elbows on his bent up knees and lowered his head.
John Connor. Leader of the Resistance. Saviour of Mankind.
The boy who got everyone he loved killed.