Fic: Time out of joint 1/?

[falconsheart]

Time out of joint 1/?

Author: Valandhir

Summary: What is past and what is present? What has been then and what is new, what is changed? Meeting a person from his past, the future to be, Derek Reese finds himself in a tangle of past and present.

Rating: P13 may be higher for later chapters

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, names or various other parts of the Terminator/SCC universe, they all are right to their respective owners. This is a work of non-profit fanfiction and no copyright infringement is intended.

Authors note: This story is for my friend Elena. I know you are going through a hard time right now, and I hope the therapy is successful this time. Hang in there baby!! *hugs* That story is for you, I hope it is what you hoped it to be!


1. The people we meet

I saw you there,

I saw you then,

The saddest words:

What might have been?

(Beka Valentine in: Andromeda)

Derek Reese had come to believe he had well adjusted to this place and time. He didn’t gape at the intact buildings any more, he had re-learned basic table manners and even John looking so extraordinarily like Kyle raised the familiar pain only now and then. He had let his guard down, not expecting any new surprises just as they came his way.

He had known for weeks that the neighboring house was sold. Sarah had learned of it from her new friend Kacy Corbin and had consequently done some inquiring into the matter. “No case to worry about,” was her verdict some days later. “We don’t get an Ex-General next door, just some chopper pilot who ruined his health in Afghanistan. He’s a civilian now and illustrates books for a living.”

This was exactly the point when Derek stopped caring. They were after the fathers of Skynet and it was unlikely they’d find one of them between the pages of a children’s book. So he had not cared further and when he saw the pick up truck enter the driveway next door, just assumed that their new neighbor had finally arrived. The shock came when the door opened and a tall blonde man carefully exited the car, using the low wall beside the driveway for support. A metal brace ran up his left leg, obviously allowing him to stand without crutches. Rather slowly he walked the few steps back to open the car’s backdoor to help a child out. A tiny, fragile looking four-year-old with feathery auburn hair was gently lifted out of the car and set down on the lawn.

The trash can slipped from Derek’s hands as he recognized the man. Gabriel. He nearly failed to make that connection. The Gabriel he had known had been harder, thin as a rake and had a pale scar slashed across his aristocratic features. He also had sported only a slight limp. Sure, he hadn’t been able to run like others did, but it had never hindered him to give the junkyard hell. And Julian…. Here Derek painfully realized that he was just a year younger than Kyle. The Julian he had known had always looked younger. His fragile built was the main reason for that, along with those eyes. Gabriel had always sworn Julian had the face of his mother, but Derek had always only seen traces of Gabriel in those features. It was whole lifetime ago, in every sense of the word, but Derek remembered well…

He and Kyle had survived the chaotic first days after the attack, when people slowly began to realize that the world they had known was gone. There was no government left to issue emergency measures, no national guard to restore order, and no humanitarian organizations to bring in relief efforts. Rumors ran around, rumors of places nuked, of myriads of death and of other, worse things. But with the people realizing that there was nothing left it was everybody out for himself, as the two boys found out the hard way. Derek, finding himself solely responsible for his little brother, was unwilling to give in to the demands and offers some people made during those first few weeks. So they were on their own, fending for themselves. Derek managed to keep them alive, drawing on a strength and endurance he had hardly known he possessed. Braving the surface and the ruins for food, hiding out in the network of tunnels, Kyle and Derek remained loners. They did not join the clans and gangs that emerged over the next some months. Derek knew the ‘rules’ inside the gangs quite well and would never submit Kyle and himself to them. Some Clan leaders had made him offers, most of them concerning Kyle, but Derek would rather die than accepting them. Better to starve than to survive like that.

The nuclear winter set in, and life grew harder. Derek grew stronger, harder and more cunning. Kyle did his best not to burden him, and what a trooper he was! There was more than one time when it was Kyle’s spirits that gave him the strength to go on, to brave another horrible day, to face the seemingly endless winter. That winter was the longest in human memory, the sun only visible through clouds of dust and debris. Seven months later the radiation rain came, followed by the ash storms. They weathered it together, scavenging for food and other things in the ruins, avoiding the gangs and clans most of the time. Now and then they might trade some of their findings for other things with one of the neutral groups in the tunnels, but otherwise they stayed alone.

Two years after J-Day Derek was a lean, tough 17 year old, who usually pretended not to have a heart, except when it came to his baby brother. Kyle was a wiry near-10 year old, with a capacity to hope that sometimes brought tears to the eyes of his older brother. It was after a particular fierce ash storm, that Kyle fell sick with Fallout- Pneumonia. Fallout-P was caused by radioactive particles in the air, filtering into the lungs. Or at least it was said to be, there were no doctors around to diagnose it.

For two days they had hoped it was just a cold, but the fever rose higher and higher and the pained cough got so bad, that Derek feared it would rip Kyle apart. His little brother seemed to grow weaker before his eyes. In the end Derek lifted up his little brother and carried him up to tunnel ’92, which belonged to a clan that had been the least unfriendly towards them. He didn’t find help there. “Take that kid and be gone, ‘xcept you want to trade the corpse.” One of their guards told him. “We can put him out of his misery, if that’s what you want.”

Disheartened and desperate Derek had found their hideout raided and taken by another gang. Everything had been dark that day, or he would never have dared to venture into the fallen tunnels. They were the western part of the tunnel networks, where the sea had broken into the land and laid waste to parts of the system. A few other loners were said to have their hideouts there. Usually Derek avoided those places. If he went today, it was only because he was out of other options. He needed a place where he could hide Kyle while he went to find or steal something to help him.

A movement in the darkness startled him. In the very scarce lighting down here he needed a moment to realize that he had run into another dweller of this place. He even knew this one by sight: his limping walk was quite distinctive. He had leveled a gun at Derek, but lowered it when he saw there was no threat. “What’s wrong with your little bro’?”

The question made Derek nearly jump. This man had never deigned to talk to him before, and he was rumored to be dangerous. “He’s sick, Sir.” Derek tried to be as polite as possible, but it sounded rather weak to him.

A bright beam of light, coming from something resembling a flashlight, made him blink hard. The stranger had limped up to him. ‘Limped’ was an unfair term, he moved rather deftly, despite of the obvious limp, and seemed not much hindered by it either. “Let me see.” He raised the flashlight and studied feverish Kyle for a moment. “It’s Fallout-P, alright and as bad a case as there can be.” He confirmed what Derek already feared.

“Is he going to die?” Derek didn’t want to sound like a child. But if Kyle died, if he lost his baby brother, he lost the only thing that made sense in all that madness. Then he could just die with him and get it over with. His little brother was the only reason to stay alive in this hell.

Grayish-green eyes seized him up, not unfriendly. “You boys have nowhere to go, I guess?” The question was asked in low tones.

Derek nodded. He had been too proud and too strong to abide by the gangs demands or the clans rules, or to beg in those past two years, but he wasn’t too proud to beg when it came to saving Kyle.

It wasn’t necessary. The stranger put out the flashlight and gestured him to follow. “Come along, he’ll need a place to rest.” He said as he led him deeper into the fallen tunnels. It wasn’t an easy path, through puddles of water, ducking below fallen concrete beams and crashed sections. Derek had to try hard to keep up. How somebody could move so fast with this limp was beyond him. He kept Kyle closely pressed to his body, to keep him warm. Eventually they stopped in a puddle of water in front of a rusty ladder. Kyle was shaking and shivering uncontrolled at the time.

They companion slipped off the jacket he had worn and wrapped it around Kyle. “Don’t worry.” He said to Derek. “My little boy had it just as bad, and he got over it.” With those words he climbed up the ladder and opened a kind of hatch above. Bringing Kyle up there took some skill, but Derek managed. Above the ladder he found a group of rooms that would once have been used to store maintenance equipment and emergency gear, now it was a well organized hideout.

A small boy, somewhat younger than Kyle was resting on a comfy bed made from a mattress and a pile of blankets, in a corner. He looked up when they came in, eyes fixed on the only familiar person. “Dad?”

“We’ll have guests for awhile, Julian.” The man said. “His little brother is very sick.”

What happened next was something Derek wouldn’t forget in many years to come. Julian got up from his comfy bed, slipped on a jumper and gestured Derek over to him. “Here, lay your brother down here, he looks bad.” For the first time in two years Derek saw someone give up something without being forced or demanding a price. It was something that belonged to the world before the bombs, before the apocalypse that had driven people to their very worst. Sudden tears stung his eyes as he bedded down Kyle on the most comfy sleeping place he had seen in the last two years.

A small hand slipped on his shoulders. “Don’t cry. We’ll help your brother.” Grayish- green eyes fixed solemnly on him as Julian spoke.

Derek bit his lip, he’d usually have scoffed at comfort of some fragile looking boy, but here and now it hit too close to his heart. He hugged the boy shortly. “Thanks.”

The other man, Julian’s father, bent down beside them, a metal cup with a sharp smelling brew in his hands. “This will ease the worst symptoms for now and get the fever down a little. It won’t heal Kyle, but it will give me the time I need to get the things that are needed to truly heal him.”

Derek nodded, he too had already been thinking of tracking down some medical supplies on the surface. “Can I help, Sir? In acquiring what is needed for Kyle.” If he could do something it wouldn’t be quite as bad.

“No, not with getting that stuff, but with something else. I was on my way to tunnel 103 to pick up some supplies. They are payments for me fixing their generator last week. Now I have to send Julian, and I dislike him going alone into gang territory.”

Derek understood at once, a boy like Julian, fragile and good to look at, was always in danger in those areas. “I’ll go with him.” He said without hesitation. Kyle would be safe here, it was the most cleverly hidden hideout Derek had come across up till now. “And, Sir…”

“The name is Gabriel.”

“Gabriel, is there someone specific out for Julian?” Derek remembered that the clan leader from 106 hated the limping man for some reason.”

“I fixed most of them but the bosses at 106 and 108 still hold some grudge.” Gabriel replied. “Do you know how to fire a gun?”

“I have one,” which he had taken from a gang member that had tried to raid their hideout six months ago. “ran out of ammo, though.”

After taking a look at the model, Gabriel handed him a clip. “Take care.”

Derek’s mind returned abruptly to the present, when he saw Gabriel stumble. He faltered, broke to his knees, unable to catch himself in time. Flanking over the small wall beside the driveway Derek reached him within a moment. One grip at the left wrist, the other the right shoulder, it was easy to help Gabriel up, he was half on the way by himself, but this way he had Derek to support him, should his le fail him again. A startled gaze met Derek’s eyes, reminding him that this Gabriel didn’t know him.

“Easy there, that doesn’t look fully healed.” Derek observed with casual gruffness. He knew that Gabriel had worked some years on getting his leg remotely fit again before the bombs fell. At least that’s what Gabriel had once said to him. They had never really talked about the world they had lost, it was too painful.

“Thanks,” Gabriel replied. “I think I can make it.”

Derek had no doubt that Gabriel could walk over to the house, if he set his mind to it, but his eyes had brushed on the load of crates, baggage and other stuff loaded on the pickup. There was no way Gabriel would carry that stuff. “Why don’t you sit down over there,” he gestured to the garden chairs on the lawn beside the entrance. “and give that leg some rest, while the kid ‘helps’ me to unload the truck?”

“Thanks, but I said I can manage.” Gabriel already managed to stand on his own again, it had taken him not much time to regain control over his injured body.

“A wise man once told me: ‘Being strong is good and being independent is even better but there comes a day for all of us, when we need to accept help.’” Derek did his best to suppress a grin, he was just giving Gabriel back a line, he had heard from him a long time ago.

A familiar grin broke the stony mien. “Smart guy, for sure.” Derek knew he had won.

Unloading the truck had taken about half an hour, Derek allowing Julian to help him by carrying small stuff. He had by now learned the boy’s name as well as Gabriel’s. So he was safe from questions how he knew them. The interior of the house belied the fact that a move-in here was in full swing, it looked remarkably well ordered.

Setting down the last bag, Derek saw that Gabriel was in the kitchen, a coffeemaker was running and he was preparing something that looked damn well like a sandwich plate. “I hope you are hungry.”

“Sure,” Derek nodded, accepting Julian’s tugging at his sleeve to show him where the bath room was, to wash their hands before eating. The boy almost never spoke, but he did well communicating without words. It was something that didn’t fit in with the nine year old version of him, Derek had known. Julian’s expression skills had been far beyond his age, he talked like an adult mostly. Anyway, it was the reason that Derek tried to have some kind of conversation with the kid. “So, you must moved here?”

“Hm hm.” Julian nodded, but didn’t say more.

They were nearly back in the kitchen. “Is your mom coming here too?” Derek was genuinely curious about Gabriel’s wife. She had died before the bombs fell, that much he was sure about, and Gabriel had always sworn Julian took after her. A fact that seemed always odd to Derek, who had seen so much of Gabriel in his son. Whoever Julian’s mother had been, she must have been special.

The words drew a strange reaction from both people present. Gabriel paled, Derek could tell he was calling on his strength to keep a calm mien. The little boy did not manage so well. His eyes went all wide, filling with tears, his whole body shaking he broke into silent, heart ripping sobs. Within a moment Gabriel knelt down beside him, drawing the little thing into his arms. “Shh, little one, just let it go… let it go…” The tears didn’t end, and Derek knew Gabriel did not expect them to. It took long before the sobs faded, and the little boy, exhausted from crying fell asleep, snuggled against his father’s shoulder.

Gabriel lifted the sleeping boy up and bedded him on the couch, between some pillows and blankets. He gently ruffled the boy’s auburn hair. “The pain will fade little one, it just takes time.” He said softly.

Derek stared at his feet, wishing he could make a hasty retreat. “I’m sorry,” he said eventually. “I didn’t want to…”

Gabriel had stood up, after being sure that Julian was asleep. “How were you supposed to know?” he asked. He gestured towards the kitchen, they walked over and Gabriel left the door open far enough for him to see the sleeping child. “You couldn’t know.” He repeated there.

“Still… it was stupid to ask something personal, after you arrived here alone.” Derek knew that a normal person would have guessed something and not asked. But he wasn’t that normal guy, he hadn’t been since he was fifteen.

Gabriel waved it off. “Stop apologizing, Derek. You couldn’t know, it happened. End of story.” He filled two cups with coffee and offered one to Derek.

Derek cast a glance at the sleeping boy, comfortably snuggled between pillows and blankets. “Should we be talking here, with him asleep?” Sleep might help little Julian to get over the pain, if only a little.

“He’s fast asleep.” Gabriel said. “All kids have a deep slumber, even the unhappy ones.”

“Unhappy?” Derek couldn’t think of a word less applying to Julian. What he knew of Julian’s home it had been far more stable, and protected than that of other kids, especially after the bombs fell. Or Julian would not have survived for long.

Sitting down on one of the chairs, elbows resting on the tables, Gabriel stared into the coffee mug. “Long story,” he said in low tones.

Derek gripped another chair, sitting down opposite of him. Gabriel was a friend, one of the few people he’d truly call friend, if he could help him by listening, he would. “I’m in no hurry.”

Gabriel set the coffee mug aside, hands placed on the table side by side. “Julians mother and me decided to separate about two years ago,” he began speaking, tone level and calm. “as much as I loved her, we had… differences. And she wouldn’t put up with me any longer. Our divorce would have been finalized had I not gone MIA in Afghanistan. That was… twelve months ago, I think. Don’t ask about it, crashed plane and taken prisoner. I managed to escape eventually, but I was in a bad shape, only barely made it back to our people. Injuries, infections, infected injuries, interrogation remains, they flew me out of there soon, I don’t know much about it. Ended up in a hospital back here. Was delirious for some time, and when I came out of it again, Jamilla was dead… dead and buried. She had an accident and died from the injuries. And there was this small boy, our boy, who had lost his mom and now was told that his father - a father he barely knew - might die too.”

For a while they sat in silence, it was the same comradely silence they had shared so often in years to come that Derek remembered vividly. “When my parents died, I was fifteen,” he said slowly, careful now that he was talking about the past that was the future. “My little bro’ was just eight and we found ourselves alone over night. Had a rough couple of years, but one day… a dark and bad day for both of us, Kyle said to me, that even with all that happened, with all we had been through, it was easier to bear because there was still someone, someone who was family, someone who was a rock to cling to.” Derek’s eyes went back to the small boy, deeply asleep on the couch, but in his mind he saw a different scene, an older Julian…

“Derek, watch out!” Julian’s shout was all the warning Derek needed to dodge the clumsy attack. Coming up again he brought up his knee, hitting the would-be raiders groin, hitting it hard. Interlacing his fingers and bringing his hands down on his neck finished him off. Hastily Derek turned around; looking for Julian, but the small boy had effectively disabled his attacker by evading him so fast, that he ran into a wall. It was the third attack of that type and by now Derek was growing outright annoyed. One attack he would have understood, the supplies they were carrying warranted that easily enough. A second attack he had written off to the disappointment of some tunnel lurkers who had hoped catching Julian alone. But a third attack within such a short range of time and territory spoke of serious grudges held. “What did your father do to them, to make them as mad as that? They never got that mad at me, for not letting them come close to Kyle.”

“He told them the truth, what else?” Julian replied, as they dodged their way under a broken concrete beam and into a smaller tunnel. “That’s what people will hate you most for: destroying their illusions and telling them the truth.” The younger boy had taken to Derek’s company easily enough.

Derek was still marveling about that, he wasn’t a nice guy, he wasn’t easy and he was ruthless, yet Julian seemed determined to like him. “The truth about what?” he asked. “It’s not like there is a short supply of bad news these days.”

Julian grinned, it was a wry, dry grin, all too grown up for his young years. “When some of the clan bosses wanted to talk him into joining them, he told them that their way to live: clans, gangs, trading favors for supplies, exploiting the weak for pleasure in exchange for supplies, is an illusion. That they still pretend that somehow this will be over in some years, if they only hold out long enough. But there won’t be an end, except the one we make. If we don’t change things ourselves, nothing will change and either we run out of supplies one day or we get all killed by the machines. They hate him for that, for seeing things as they are.”

Those words, spoken by a boy about Kyle’s age, hit Derek like a gunshot would. Up till now he had survived, seen that Kyle survived and not thought about the future too much. Now he wondered if not, deep down in his heart, he had hoped that something would happen, someone would come and chase the machines off. He scoffed, he was old enough to know better, but still facing it up directly, hurt. “So we’re on our own.” Derek had not intended to say it aloud, but it had slipped out.

Julian stopped in his tracks and turned around. “No, we aren’t. Not if we stick together. And… father says there are others fighting. General Perry has his troops somewhere east, in the mountains fighting the machines. And there’s John Connor, he took out a Skynet subframe up north.”

Derek smiled at the boy, it was a grim, adult smile. Like Kyle, Julian still needed something to hope for, to cling to, or he’d break in this world. If the believe in some other people fighting Skynet did that, it was a sensible thing. It actually might be better then other, vain hopes to cling to. Perhaps he should try the same with Kyle?

Gabriel returned late in the next day, he was wounded and exhausted. His shoulder sported the black marks of a plasma beam having missed him only be hair’s breath. But he had found the medicine. Derek didn’t know what the odd smelling colorless stuff was, Gabriel made Kyle drink, but it helped. Kyle’s fever faded a good deal and the cough began to weaken. Derek gladly accepted running some more errands for Gabriel, odd as they might be.

The last one had included climbing up to an old storage facility and returning with an odd package. When he set down the package in the hideout he sniffed annoyed. “Just tell me, Gabriel: what the hell does anybody need moth-balls for in this world. The moths got nuked just like the rest of us.”

“And nobody wears pelts anymore, I know.” Gabriel chuckled. “I need them for Nitroglycerinbase, for making explosives. If you want I can teach you.” The next two weeks, while Kyle was fighting his way back to health, Derek spend learning how to make explosives.