InsaneJournal

John is just...John.
Who: Sarah Connor, Cameron.
What: Cameron talks Sarah out of moving again.
When: Monday, after This Log and This Dream.
Where: Connor Residence.
Ratings/Warnings: PG-13 for feels.
Status: Complete!



The bookshelf in the living room had been emptied, and books were stacked on Sarah's bed. She'd thrown her hair up into a ponytail, and was in full 'packing up the house' mode. Her clothing was also stacked on the bed, and there was another load of laundry in the washer.

This was a routine Sarah knew by rote, and she had not bothered to call Cameron or John just yet. Over time she'd learned that it was best to let them finish their day out before telling them to pack their stuff. That was, of course, when she couldn't catch them in the morning before they'd left for school or other activities.

She surveyed the books on her bed and started settling them into her box, careful not to hurt the books or bend their covers. Some of them had seen as much wear as she had in her life, and it was possible they'd fall apart if she didn't handle them gently.

Cameron's talk with the odd old man had helped her see that maybe there was nothing to fear. She headed home early, intending to talk to John or Sarah about it. While in no way would she give the full details of her dreams, she did think she wanted to talk about choice.

She walked inside and looked around, her fingers tightening on the door frame. The bookshelf was empty. This was very bad. Stomach twisting up, she walked, not ran, to Sarah's room, and took in the scene, "We don't have to leave."

"We can't stay here. We can't," Sarah shook her head, and picked up a few more books. She wasn't sure she wanted to talk about her dream. It had been bad, with no signs that they were going to get any better.

It didn't at all help to think that the dreams were connected to some kind of alternate universe. It didn't help that if she thought that way, it meant she was always destined to meet Kyle and fall in love with him. Not if he always died. Not if John never had a father. Not if the world ended and machines killed everything.

She bit her lip and shook her head again, "It's not safe here."

"It's never safe anywhere," Cameron pointed out. "I spoke with Uncle Iroh. He said that these dreams show us other sides of ourselves in different life-times, but they don't need to be our lives here. He offered us free tea."

Sarah rested a hand on either side of the box she'd been packing and leaned a bit, "I'm so glad that some man named Uncle Iroh thinks that the dreams show us other life-times. The free tea makes everything all better."

She hadn't bothered to look at Cameron when the girl had first come in, but now she did look at her, "You have a dream where your job is to protect John. Do you understand what it is you're probably protecting him from?"

"Yes. But that doesn't matter because none of that exists. You've always said we can choose our fates, but right now you're choosing them for us. We've barely gotten settled here." She gripped the door frame more tightly, "Nothing is going to hurt John."

You still have purpose.

"And now I know that the reason I kept saying that is because a man named Kyle Reese from the future told me that his future wasn't set in stone. That was before a machine killed him and nearly killed me." Sarah's tone was bitter, and angry. She picked her hands up off the box and put them back down, hard.

"But his will be. That's nothing any of us chose, except that I chose to bring the both of you here. And now these dreams are going to drive us all crazy. What do you propose I tell him when he starts having dreams that machines hunt him down because he's the future savior of mankind?"

Sarah definitely wasn't allowed to know she'd dreamed of being a machine, Cameron decided. The thought of losing her respect, or Sarah being suspicious of her, hurt. She latched onto that hurt. That hurt meant she was human.

"That sounds insane," Cameron pointed out, then came in and started to unpack Sarah's box. "Kyle Reese was killed by a deranged man, not a machine. John is just...John."

"Is he going to think he's just John when he starts dreaming about these things, too?"

Because that was something Sarah could protect him from. If they left now, before he started dreaming too, she could make sure he never had to face any of this. He could continue to be just John, whose father was killed by a deranged man.

Cameron gave Sarah a look, her head tilted and eyebrows furrowed just so, "He only ever wanted to be 'just John' there, too. The world isn't going to end. He's not going to lead mankind. Could you imagine John as president?"

Okay, President John Connor would be really sexy....

"He's 16 years old, I can't imagine him in college," Sarah snerked, and shook her head. It was hard to imagine what John might be like when he grew up. Some of that was probably because she never wanted him to, even though she knew it was inevitable. There was a part of him that she could see being president, if that's what he really wanted to do.

You trust him. He's got a strength. I'd die for John Connor.

That was there, in him. She could see that, when she looked. But that didn't mean she wanted that for him. Not that. Apocalyptic futures and leading the world against killer robots.

She squeezed her eyes shut, "We can't stay here."

"Please," Cameron begged. She was the collected, quiet one, and she was begging with genuine distress in her voice and written on her, "Don't leave for him, stay for him. For me. I'm sick of moving around, they're just dreams! Don't you want to be settled for once in your life?"

Not if it meant that her kids, both of them, went crazy. Not if it meant she had more dreams about Kyle and machines chasing her and went crazy, herself. But it wasn't about her. Almost every single time she'd moved them it had been for what she considered to be their own safety.

The last one had been completely selfish. Cameron and John were both suffering for it, now. Sarah knew it, she knew it without Cameron having to beg her like she was doing now. The emotion in her voice was very clear, and it cut through Sarah like a knife.

The dreams were a threat. She had a gut feeling about that, and nothing Cameron could say would reassure her. But she couldn't stand there and listen to this either. And it would only be worse when John came home. She felt defeated, and small, and she sunk to a seat on the bed, "Fine."

Cameron opened her mouth to continue the argument, then closed it abruptly, "Fine?"

She entered the bedroom and sat on the bed next to Sarah, putting her arms around her and resting her head on her shoulder, "Thank you. I love you."

Love was a word that should be used rarely, and cherished when it was.

It was human nature to be ungrateful, even for the best the human race had to offer. Being grateful came later, when you were older, or wiser or had some different life experiences; when you realised what you had left behind in exchange for freedom and the ability to live your own life. A constant supply of food. Shelter. The unconditional love of the people around you. Not having to be cold in the winter, or too hot in the summertime. Schooling, books, new clothes when your old ones wore out. Most of all, not having to worry about providing those things for yourself.

Like so many things, parents were easy to take for granted. If a parent was lucky and worked hard, most of those essential things in life were provided frequently enough that they weren't missed. Even if there were essential things missing - like a father figure - it was easy to take the way you'd lived your life for 20 years and become accustomed to it. Sarah had taken the life her mother worked so hard to give her for granted until she was 19 years old.

Gratitude, then, was something Sarah hardly ever expected, and tried not to ask for. Love, too, was a hard thing. Saying the words aloud meant more, and at times just trying to say them was terrifying. 'I love you' was a rare gem in the Connor household. It was a magical whisp of a thing, something you cherished even coming across once in your life, because it was gone just as quickly.

Sarah had received both love and gratitude at once, and she wasn't really sure how to handle that. She wrapped an arm around Cameron, and settled on silence.