"To Learn The Games You Play" by wanderlustlover (M)
Fandom: Terminator / Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Pairing: John Connor/Allison Young
Length: ~2600 words
Author on LJ wanderlustlover
Author Website: Tumblr
Why this must be read: "Allison From Palmdale" gave us an incredible insight not only into Summer Glau's talents as an actress but also into the pair of characters she plays. In this fic, the author explores Allison's experiences, in relation to John and to her time as a captive and unwilling cyborg model. The woman presented here is savvy and skeptical--she doesn't quite accept the mythos of John Connor, even as she falls into his circle--and the way she deals with the machine(s) that will be Cameron gave me a new respect for a character I hadn't thought much about before.
The interrogation started simply. She never understood why. This was a war, they interrogated for the oddest details on both sides to get to what they actually needed. She was just an animal, not even meat to them.
She’d prepared herself in that rusty hole they’d thrown her into. They were going to ask her about John Connor. They were going to ask her for the location of their base. They were going to ask her for their plans.
The same way they’d asked for her name. At the end of a laser.
And she wasn’t going to give them anything. Even if they burned her entire arm this time. And they might. So few came back from capture, from the machines, and those who did were shells of who they were. She’d done a good job the last few years. She could die proud of herself finally.
She could die protecting the people who protected the world.
She wasn’t ready when they asked her where she lived.
She wasn’t ready when they asked her about her life and family.
She couldn’t figure out what this had to do with The Resistance or Skynet at all, and suddenly the only thought that surfaced in her head, as she broke into tears, was that she didn’t want to die, she didn’t want to die, she just wanted to go home, to her real home, to the only home she’d ever had.
~*~
She remembers Palmdale the way you remember things in a dream.
Blurry. Too bright. Perfect. Seamlessly smooth.
It was bright green, with more trees than any land ever needed. Thick branches on some and long fronded ones on others. Tall. So tall they seemed to reach up, like gods, and become the very pillars which held up the bright blue of the sky. The grass was always green, too. And lush between her tiny pink toes.
It was always arid and hot, sticking to her skin like a coat no matter the season.
Like you were inside the very sun, except it was a safe heat. Held tight and close.
Warmth. The kind of warmth The Resistance could never find or make.
The kind of warmth that existed in John Connor’s laugh.
He was that way. No matter how bad the bad days got, how many people didn’t make it back, times they almost did but didn’t, he found a way to laugh, to urge them on, and when he laughed for a second you believed him. That it was only a setback. They’d find a way tomorrow.
There’d be laughter tomorrow and sunshine and more Palmdales.
Even if that tomorrow was years off, maybe even decades.
He made you believe and it was why she’d hated him.
To Learn The Games You Play
Pairing: John Connor/Allison Young
Length: ~2600 words
Author on LJ wanderlustlover
Author Website: Tumblr
Why this must be read: "Allison From Palmdale" gave us an incredible insight not only into Summer Glau's talents as an actress but also into the pair of characters she plays. In this fic, the author explores Allison's experiences, in relation to John and to her time as a captive and unwilling cyborg model. The woman presented here is savvy and skeptical--she doesn't quite accept the mythos of John Connor, even as she falls into his circle--and the way she deals with the machine(s) that will be Cameron gave me a new respect for a character I hadn't thought much about before.
The interrogation started simply. She never understood why. This was a war, they interrogated for the oddest details on both sides to get to what they actually needed. She was just an animal, not even meat to them.
She’d prepared herself in that rusty hole they’d thrown her into. They were going to ask her about John Connor. They were going to ask her for the location of their base. They were going to ask her for their plans.
The same way they’d asked for her name. At the end of a laser.
And she wasn’t going to give them anything. Even if they burned her entire arm this time. And they might. So few came back from capture, from the machines, and those who did were shells of who they were. She’d done a good job the last few years. She could die proud of herself finally.
She could die protecting the people who protected the world.
She wasn’t ready when they asked her where she lived.
She wasn’t ready when they asked her about her life and family.
She couldn’t figure out what this had to do with The Resistance or Skynet at all, and suddenly the only thought that surfaced in her head, as she broke into tears, was that she didn’t want to die, she didn’t want to die, she just wanted to go home, to her real home, to the only home she’d ever had.
~*~
She remembers Palmdale the way you remember things in a dream.
Blurry. Too bright. Perfect. Seamlessly smooth.
It was bright green, with more trees than any land ever needed. Thick branches on some and long fronded ones on others. Tall. So tall they seemed to reach up, like gods, and become the very pillars which held up the bright blue of the sky. The grass was always green, too. And lush between her tiny pink toes.
It was always arid and hot, sticking to her skin like a coat no matter the season.
Like you were inside the very sun, except it was a safe heat. Held tight and close.
Warmth. The kind of warmth The Resistance could never find or make.
The kind of warmth that existed in John Connor’s laugh.
He was that way. No matter how bad the bad days got, how many people didn’t make it back, times they almost did but didn’t, he found a way to laugh, to urge them on, and when he laughed for a second you believed him. That it was only a setback. They’d find a way tomorrow.
There’d be laughter tomorrow and sunshine and more Palmdales.
Even if that tomorrow was years off, maybe even decades.
He made you believe and it was why she’d hated him.
To Learn The Games You Play