Fic: Crazy
nyahahaha...i wrote a fic! i can't believe it but i wrote a fic! i'm feeling charged up, so i expect more to come. this turned out different than what i planned but gah, it's still a good job done at the end of the day. ^^ also posted in sarahcameron . and the title, it's the most crappiest title to give but i really had no idea what else to title it.
Title: Crazy
Author: lhfan21
Fandom: TSCC
Pairing: Camerah
Summary: Sarah thinks she’s going crazy
Disclaimer: I do not own TSCC or its characters.
Sarah lay on her side, eyes closed. The room was completely silent, save the sound of her own breathing. She let several breaths pass, before she opened her eyes. She blinked once. Twice, then rolled onto her back. A sigh escaped her lips. She couldn’t sleep. Nothing new there. It wasn’t the first time and it definitely won’t be the last. When was the last time she had proper sleep? She couldn’t remember. There was always that biting worry whether John is okay, whether they were going to be attacked, whether they were safe. No, no one is ever safe. Then there are the nightmares. Constantly messing with her head. But that’s not the thing that bothered her the most.
“I think I’m going crazy.”
She hadn’t seen the looming figure yet, but she knew she wasn’t alone in the room. She hadn’t been for many nights now. It was here. She was here. Watching over her. She wondered why, when she should be protecting John instead, but the machine was adamant in her decision to be there. It took some getting used to, worked up nights, restless nights, sleepless nights, nights when she just cursed at the machine for refusing to get out, nights where she didn’t sleep in her own room, which proved futile as the machine followed her around. She eventually did though, get used to it, and then realized that the machine’s presence was somehow comforting. Exactly why she thought she was going crazy. How could she find it comforting to have a machine-a terminator, no less- that could very well and has indeed came close to killing her, watch over her while she slept? But yet.
Talking was another thing entirely. When did she start talking to it? At first it was just her concerns, her fears about John, about Skynet, about the future. Cameron would respond accordingly, or not at all. Sarah felt relieved every time she talked. It takes the weight off her chest to know that she was at least talking to someone. Something. Communication with John has been strained these few days, and Derek wasn’t even an option she considered. It seemed almost natural that she sought out Cameron. As it got easier and easier for the words to flow from her mouth the topic of the talks went from their shared concerns to none of Cameron’s concern. Sarah always found it difficult to speak about her personal matters, but maybe because Cameron hardly responds, she just listens, that Sarah found it easier. Tonight though, Cameron chose to speak.
“Why?”
The monotonous voice echoed in the darkness. Sarah lifted her head to look at the window, surprised that there was a reply. She spots for the first time that night, the silhouette of the machine standing by the window. Her head was turned, staring at the human lying on the bed.
“I’ve been in a nuthouse before,” Sarah nonchalantly stated, as though that justifies why she thinks she’s going crazy.
Cameron kept her eyes on Sarah a while longer, before she turned it back to look out the window. “You were there because you told the truth. Not because you’re crazy.”
Sarah lowered her head back to the pillow. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”
“Sometimes the truth can be crazy. They didn’t believe you. They’ll pay the price.”
The mother of all destiny found herself mildly intrigued. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“Judgment Day.”
That wasn’t intriguing anymore. Sarah frowned, and pushed herself up to a seated position, glaring at other in the room. “Cameron.” She almost growled the name.
The machine cocked her head slightly towards Sarah, who cast her an apprehending look.
“That’s not going to happen. We’re going to stop it.”
There was not a change in her expression. But really, was there ever?
“Are we?”
Sarah seemed confused. “That’s why we jumped through time, right? To fight Skynet.”
“Some things can’t be changed.”
“Some things can,” she snapped. “Why else did we jump?”
Cameron straightened her head. “To skip over your death.”
She took a deep breath, still glaring at Cameron. Then she shrugged, and turned away. “I’ll still die one day.”
“Yes. All humans die. But you’re alive now. Here.”
Sarah found her eyes drawn back to the girl. Cameron always state facts as they are, so Sarah didn’t know why every time she hears something she already knows anyway, it feels like something new. Something she never thought of. She regarded the other carefully. “Why are you so talkative today? You usually don’t reply.” There was no anger or hostility in her tone. Just curiosity.
She swore she saw something flicker across the terminator’s blank expression, but it was quickly gone. Instead, the machine appeared to shrink further into the darkness though she hasn’t moved an inch.
“You’re not going crazy,” was all she said.
Sarah raised one eyebrow meaningfully. “That’s not my question.”
“Why do you talk to me? You hate machines.”
A swift nod of the head followed. “True. But better you than a wall,” Sarah answered, directing a pointed look to the wall behind Cameron. “At least I know you’re actually listening.”
Cameron turned to look at the wall. It was a huge expanse of wall, with nothing hanging on it. It was painted white, and had small cracks. A repaint is due. She turned back to Sarah. “They say walls have ears. This one doesn’t.”
A small grin tugged at the edge of Sarah’s lips. “It better not have. Would be pretty creepy if it did.”
A look of incomprehension took over Cameron. Sarah couldn’t help smiling. “It’s a saying, Cameron. Walls don’t have ears. It’s a thing. Inanimate.”
The terminator seemed to analyze Sarah’s words. She looked at the wall again, then back at Sarah. “I’m a thing.”
Her tone indicated that she was conflicted. Sarah wouldn’t talk to the wall because it’s a thing. But she was a thing as well.
“Yes. And you have ears.”
Cameron scowled. “I don’t understand. So if I didn’t have ears, you wouldn’t talk to me?”
Sarah paused at the ridiculous statement. Cameron was missing the point completely. Or rather, she was leading Cameron away from it. “No Cameron, that’s not what…..” she trailed off, not knowing how to explain it best. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed.
The sigh had sounded tired and although Cameron wanted to know more of what Sarah meant, she took it as a sign that Sarah didn’t want to talk anymore. Most of their conversations tended to end this way. Despite the fact that she might have been enjoying it, at any point Sarah may just decide she didn’t want to talk anymore. Cameron made to turn her attention back out the window. Back to surveillance. Then she heard Sarah.
“Come closer. I don’t want to talk so loud.”
In truth it wasn’t loud at all. It was within normal volume level. But it was the dead of the night, and the house was deathly quiet. Cameron figured that Sarah didn’t want to risk waking John. She was surprised by the request/order more than anything. Sarah had never willingly cut the distance between them before. She considered it momentarily, before deciding to obey and walked three steps closer to the bed.
There was still distance, but Cameron knew better than to get too close. Sarah seemed satisfied though, and leaned forward slightly, eyes never leaving Cameron’s. “Forget about being a thing, or the ears. I talk to you, because you don’t judge me. Can you understand that?”
This was the true reason she found it easy to talk to Cameron. Because a machine doesn’t judge human actions. Whether it was her orders, her moments of weakness, her kills, her failures to kill when she knew she should, her decisions. Cameron says things as they are, and she always means them. Unlike John or Derek who pretends that everything is fine, but deep down they think otherwise. Sometimes the machine’s words stings, but at least she’s honest. What she says is literally what it is. Nothing hidden.
A look of comprehension finally dawned onto Cameron. “Thank you for explaining. Yes, I understand,” she said first, before quickly adding when Sarah’s eyes tore away from hers. She wanted those eyes to stay on her. “I cannot judge you. I don’t have the capability to. In human terms, I don’t have the right to judge you. I’m a killing machine.”
That last line did the trick. Sarah wondered as she searched those brown eyes, how it is that Cameron always knew which aspect of anything she was talking about. Like now, judge encompasses many things, but what she really meant was her ability or disability, to kill. Andy Goode and the young boy who robbed the house were fine examples. Something that once again, did not escape Cameron. But she wasn’t judging. Just stating the facts. She was designed to kill. Sarah wasn’t.
“You killed because you had to.”
And she knew very well that she should have too. Her forays into trying to avoid killing, trying to spare lives had been disastrous. Andy Goode was killed anyway. Executed. But not before he rebuilt the Turk, what could possibly be the foundation of Skynet which is currently missing. The boy led Cromartie to them, putting John in grave danger. Cameron had been right both times. Derek never questioned why she didn’t kill Andy, but it was obvious from his body language that he thought burning the house down wasn’t nearly enough. John said he was glad she didn’t kill the boy, but he could possibly be thinking about how she failed to protect him, again.
“Those were life,” Cameron stated, even though she knew that Sarah didn’t think she understands the value of life. Things have changed. She has changed. She understands more now.
But to her surprise, Sarah did not rebuke her statement. The woman merely closed her eyes and rolled her head back.
“All life dies. You said it yourself.”
Cameron’s head tilted, her brows furrowing. “Not then. Not yet.”
“They were sacrifices for the greater good. It’s called altruism.”
“Not by choice.”
Sarah did not respond immediately, and took her time to slowly open her eyes to stare critically at the girl machine who stood by her bed. “Choice is a luxury. Not everyone gets to make choices. You know that.”
The exact meaning of those words was not lost on Cameron.
“It’s kill or be killed,” Sarah added. “Human instinct will strive for self preservation.”
“I’m not human. I don’t have instinct.”
“No, you have logic. Something more humans should have. And logic dictates that…those people must die.”
She countered the unease her words brought up by telling herself that the deaths were not in vain. She had a purpose to achieve. To keep her son alive. It’s not like she enjoyed seeing people die around her. Some psychos out there do. But not them. She knew that while Cameron had been designed and programmed to kill, it doesn’t mean she enjoys it. The machine never hesitated in pulling the trigger and would appear unaffected by the whole thing, but Sarah often caught her much later, writing notes. The thought that Cameron may have a conscience about her actions gave Sarah hope. Hope that one day, she could fully trust her. She was already breaking down her barriers. Faster than she could rebuild them.
“You’re more human than some humans out there,” her voice was small as she said this.
Sarah thought it was her imagination when she saw the play of emotions in the girl’s eyes. Those fake eyes. How could fake eyes hold emotions?
“You don’t mean that.”
Sarah’s brows shot up and she looked at the machine in such a way that challenged her to refute what she has just said.
“I’m not human.”
Just one sentence that stands true. It will not change no matter what happened.
“Humanity is subjective. What constitutes being human and not human, with you,” Sarah glanced down the entire length of Cameron’s body. “I can’t tell the difference anymore.”
Sometimes she could see clearly what Cameron was. When she killed, when she pulled bullets out of her chest, when the metal underneath showed through her skin. But other times, with all the little human things that Cameron does, she knew her feelings for the machine was changing. She no longer saw Cameron as a what, or a who. Cameron was just Cameron.
“I don’t sleep. Humans do.”
The light statement caught her off guard. Sarah smiled. “I guess that’s a good point.”
Cameron watched Sarah intently, before she closed the distance between them, at the same time earning a startled look from the latter. She stopped directly at the side of the bed. Sarah looked at her still, but said nothing. Cameron reached out and took one of Sarah’s hands only to place it on her own forearm. Sarah didn’t pull back. Using the same hand, she covered Sarah’s and squeezed, which in turn caused Sarah’s hand to squeeze Cameron’s forearm. Sarah shifted her eyes from Cameron’s to her hand and back again. She did not understand what the machine was doing. But Cameron did not provide any answers and merely increased the pressure of her squeezing.
Sarah refocused onto her hand, getting the point that whatever it is that Cameron was doing had something to do with her hand. At first nothing registered. Nothing but the smoothness and softness of Cameron’s skin. It made a weird sensation pool in her stomach. And she knew exactly what that sensation was. The pressure on her hand didn’t stop. Until she felt the bone, then she froze. The bone. She met Cameron’s eyes, and found Cameron eyeing her. There was uncertainty in her expression. She gulped, her hand now squeezing Cameron’s with her own strength. She was no queen in anatomy, but she knew enough to know that there were two bones in a human forearm. The radius and the ulna. It wasn’t the case with Cameron.
Cameron sensed that Sarah has figured out her intent. That she has figured out what words will not change. She averted her eyes away. “It’s metal in there. Everywhere.”
She picked up the sound of Sarah exhaling a heavy breath but beyond that, no words were said. She released the pressure of her hand, so that Sarah could pull back hers should she want to. Sarah did no such thing. In fact, the moment the pressure came off Sarah had begun to lightly caress the skin beneath her hand. That brought her attention back to Sarah. The woman smiled small at her.
“It’s not what you’re made of that matters,” Sarah said, and gave Cameron’s arm one last squeeze before she attempted to draw back her hand. But this time Cameron stopped her, and gripped her hand tight. She wasn’t surprised, nor did she seem against the act. “Why are you trying so hard to assert your inhumanity?”
“Why aren’t you?”
Sarah cast a fleeting glance at their joined hands. “You know.”
The glance did not go unnoticed. And that was not the only thing she noticed. For a while now, Sarah’s biological signals have been changing. Most notably her rising pulse and temperature. “I don’t.”
“Because I’m going crazy, that’s why,” she snapped, and dropped her gaze to their joined hands once again. That’s when she realized that Cameron wasn’t the only one holding on. Her grip was just as tight. She frowned, but didn’t release. “You’re driving me crazy.”
There was a pause before Cameron spoke. “I’m sorry.”
Sarah scoffed at the apology. She shook her head a little. “No you’re not.”
She felt the sagging of the bed before she saw the machine climbing on. Cameron loomed over Sarah, and then she lowered herself slowly to Sarah’s level. Sarah remained quiet, but Cameron didn’t need her to say anything anyway. The biological signals she was reading was more than enough. As she leaned in, Sarah caught a smirk on her face.
“No, I’m not.”
Title: Crazy
Author: lhfan21
Fandom: TSCC
Pairing: Camerah
Summary: Sarah thinks she’s going crazy
Disclaimer: I do not own TSCC or its characters.
Sarah lay on her side, eyes closed. The room was completely silent, save the sound of her own breathing. She let several breaths pass, before she opened her eyes. She blinked once. Twice, then rolled onto her back. A sigh escaped her lips. She couldn’t sleep. Nothing new there. It wasn’t the first time and it definitely won’t be the last. When was the last time she had proper sleep? She couldn’t remember. There was always that biting worry whether John is okay, whether they were going to be attacked, whether they were safe. No, no one is ever safe. Then there are the nightmares. Constantly messing with her head. But that’s not the thing that bothered her the most.
“I think I’m going crazy.”
She hadn’t seen the looming figure yet, but she knew she wasn’t alone in the room. She hadn’t been for many nights now. It was here. She was here. Watching over her. She wondered why, when she should be protecting John instead, but the machine was adamant in her decision to be there. It took some getting used to, worked up nights, restless nights, sleepless nights, nights when she just cursed at the machine for refusing to get out, nights where she didn’t sleep in her own room, which proved futile as the machine followed her around. She eventually did though, get used to it, and then realized that the machine’s presence was somehow comforting. Exactly why she thought she was going crazy. How could she find it comforting to have a machine-a terminator, no less- that could very well and has indeed came close to killing her, watch over her while she slept? But yet.
Talking was another thing entirely. When did she start talking to it? At first it was just her concerns, her fears about John, about Skynet, about the future. Cameron would respond accordingly, or not at all. Sarah felt relieved every time she talked. It takes the weight off her chest to know that she was at least talking to someone. Something. Communication with John has been strained these few days, and Derek wasn’t even an option she considered. It seemed almost natural that she sought out Cameron. As it got easier and easier for the words to flow from her mouth the topic of the talks went from their shared concerns to none of Cameron’s concern. Sarah always found it difficult to speak about her personal matters, but maybe because Cameron hardly responds, she just listens, that Sarah found it easier. Tonight though, Cameron chose to speak.
“Why?”
The monotonous voice echoed in the darkness. Sarah lifted her head to look at the window, surprised that there was a reply. She spots for the first time that night, the silhouette of the machine standing by the window. Her head was turned, staring at the human lying on the bed.
“I’ve been in a nuthouse before,” Sarah nonchalantly stated, as though that justifies why she thinks she’s going crazy.
Cameron kept her eyes on Sarah a while longer, before she turned it back to look out the window. “You were there because you told the truth. Not because you’re crazy.”
Sarah lowered her head back to the pillow. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”
“Sometimes the truth can be crazy. They didn’t believe you. They’ll pay the price.”
The mother of all destiny found herself mildly intrigued. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“Judgment Day.”
That wasn’t intriguing anymore. Sarah frowned, and pushed herself up to a seated position, glaring at other in the room. “Cameron.” She almost growled the name.
The machine cocked her head slightly towards Sarah, who cast her an apprehending look.
“That’s not going to happen. We’re going to stop it.”
There was not a change in her expression. But really, was there ever?
“Are we?”
Sarah seemed confused. “That’s why we jumped through time, right? To fight Skynet.”
“Some things can’t be changed.”
“Some things can,” she snapped. “Why else did we jump?”
Cameron straightened her head. “To skip over your death.”
She took a deep breath, still glaring at Cameron. Then she shrugged, and turned away. “I’ll still die one day.”
“Yes. All humans die. But you’re alive now. Here.”
Sarah found her eyes drawn back to the girl. Cameron always state facts as they are, so Sarah didn’t know why every time she hears something she already knows anyway, it feels like something new. Something she never thought of. She regarded the other carefully. “Why are you so talkative today? You usually don’t reply.” There was no anger or hostility in her tone. Just curiosity.
She swore she saw something flicker across the terminator’s blank expression, but it was quickly gone. Instead, the machine appeared to shrink further into the darkness though she hasn’t moved an inch.
“You’re not going crazy,” was all she said.
Sarah raised one eyebrow meaningfully. “That’s not my question.”
“Why do you talk to me? You hate machines.”
A swift nod of the head followed. “True. But better you than a wall,” Sarah answered, directing a pointed look to the wall behind Cameron. “At least I know you’re actually listening.”
Cameron turned to look at the wall. It was a huge expanse of wall, with nothing hanging on it. It was painted white, and had small cracks. A repaint is due. She turned back to Sarah. “They say walls have ears. This one doesn’t.”
A small grin tugged at the edge of Sarah’s lips. “It better not have. Would be pretty creepy if it did.”
A look of incomprehension took over Cameron. Sarah couldn’t help smiling. “It’s a saying, Cameron. Walls don’t have ears. It’s a thing. Inanimate.”
The terminator seemed to analyze Sarah’s words. She looked at the wall again, then back at Sarah. “I’m a thing.”
Her tone indicated that she was conflicted. Sarah wouldn’t talk to the wall because it’s a thing. But she was a thing as well.
“Yes. And you have ears.”
Cameron scowled. “I don’t understand. So if I didn’t have ears, you wouldn’t talk to me?”
Sarah paused at the ridiculous statement. Cameron was missing the point completely. Or rather, she was leading Cameron away from it. “No Cameron, that’s not what…..” she trailed off, not knowing how to explain it best. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed.
The sigh had sounded tired and although Cameron wanted to know more of what Sarah meant, she took it as a sign that Sarah didn’t want to talk anymore. Most of their conversations tended to end this way. Despite the fact that she might have been enjoying it, at any point Sarah may just decide she didn’t want to talk anymore. Cameron made to turn her attention back out the window. Back to surveillance. Then she heard Sarah.
“Come closer. I don’t want to talk so loud.”
In truth it wasn’t loud at all. It was within normal volume level. But it was the dead of the night, and the house was deathly quiet. Cameron figured that Sarah didn’t want to risk waking John. She was surprised by the request/order more than anything. Sarah had never willingly cut the distance between them before. She considered it momentarily, before deciding to obey and walked three steps closer to the bed.
There was still distance, but Cameron knew better than to get too close. Sarah seemed satisfied though, and leaned forward slightly, eyes never leaving Cameron’s. “Forget about being a thing, or the ears. I talk to you, because you don’t judge me. Can you understand that?”
This was the true reason she found it easy to talk to Cameron. Because a machine doesn’t judge human actions. Whether it was her orders, her moments of weakness, her kills, her failures to kill when she knew she should, her decisions. Cameron says things as they are, and she always means them. Unlike John or Derek who pretends that everything is fine, but deep down they think otherwise. Sometimes the machine’s words stings, but at least she’s honest. What she says is literally what it is. Nothing hidden.
A look of comprehension finally dawned onto Cameron. “Thank you for explaining. Yes, I understand,” she said first, before quickly adding when Sarah’s eyes tore away from hers. She wanted those eyes to stay on her. “I cannot judge you. I don’t have the capability to. In human terms, I don’t have the right to judge you. I’m a killing machine.”
That last line did the trick. Sarah wondered as she searched those brown eyes, how it is that Cameron always knew which aspect of anything she was talking about. Like now, judge encompasses many things, but what she really meant was her ability or disability, to kill. Andy Goode and the young boy who robbed the house were fine examples. Something that once again, did not escape Cameron. But she wasn’t judging. Just stating the facts. She was designed to kill. Sarah wasn’t.
“You killed because you had to.”
And she knew very well that she should have too. Her forays into trying to avoid killing, trying to spare lives had been disastrous. Andy Goode was killed anyway. Executed. But not before he rebuilt the Turk, what could possibly be the foundation of Skynet which is currently missing. The boy led Cromartie to them, putting John in grave danger. Cameron had been right both times. Derek never questioned why she didn’t kill Andy, but it was obvious from his body language that he thought burning the house down wasn’t nearly enough. John said he was glad she didn’t kill the boy, but he could possibly be thinking about how she failed to protect him, again.
“Those were life,” Cameron stated, even though she knew that Sarah didn’t think she understands the value of life. Things have changed. She has changed. She understands more now.
But to her surprise, Sarah did not rebuke her statement. The woman merely closed her eyes and rolled her head back.
“All life dies. You said it yourself.”
Cameron’s head tilted, her brows furrowing. “Not then. Not yet.”
“They were sacrifices for the greater good. It’s called altruism.”
“Not by choice.”
Sarah did not respond immediately, and took her time to slowly open her eyes to stare critically at the girl machine who stood by her bed. “Choice is a luxury. Not everyone gets to make choices. You know that.”
The exact meaning of those words was not lost on Cameron.
“It’s kill or be killed,” Sarah added. “Human instinct will strive for self preservation.”
“I’m not human. I don’t have instinct.”
“No, you have logic. Something more humans should have. And logic dictates that…those people must die.”
She countered the unease her words brought up by telling herself that the deaths were not in vain. She had a purpose to achieve. To keep her son alive. It’s not like she enjoyed seeing people die around her. Some psychos out there do. But not them. She knew that while Cameron had been designed and programmed to kill, it doesn’t mean she enjoys it. The machine never hesitated in pulling the trigger and would appear unaffected by the whole thing, but Sarah often caught her much later, writing notes. The thought that Cameron may have a conscience about her actions gave Sarah hope. Hope that one day, she could fully trust her. She was already breaking down her barriers. Faster than she could rebuild them.
“You’re more human than some humans out there,” her voice was small as she said this.
Sarah thought it was her imagination when she saw the play of emotions in the girl’s eyes. Those fake eyes. How could fake eyes hold emotions?
“You don’t mean that.”
Sarah’s brows shot up and she looked at the machine in such a way that challenged her to refute what she has just said.
“I’m not human.”
Just one sentence that stands true. It will not change no matter what happened.
“Humanity is subjective. What constitutes being human and not human, with you,” Sarah glanced down the entire length of Cameron’s body. “I can’t tell the difference anymore.”
Sometimes she could see clearly what Cameron was. When she killed, when she pulled bullets out of her chest, when the metal underneath showed through her skin. But other times, with all the little human things that Cameron does, she knew her feelings for the machine was changing. She no longer saw Cameron as a what, or a who. Cameron was just Cameron.
“I don’t sleep. Humans do.”
The light statement caught her off guard. Sarah smiled. “I guess that’s a good point.”
Cameron watched Sarah intently, before she closed the distance between them, at the same time earning a startled look from the latter. She stopped directly at the side of the bed. Sarah looked at her still, but said nothing. Cameron reached out and took one of Sarah’s hands only to place it on her own forearm. Sarah didn’t pull back. Using the same hand, she covered Sarah’s and squeezed, which in turn caused Sarah’s hand to squeeze Cameron’s forearm. Sarah shifted her eyes from Cameron’s to her hand and back again. She did not understand what the machine was doing. But Cameron did not provide any answers and merely increased the pressure of her squeezing.
Sarah refocused onto her hand, getting the point that whatever it is that Cameron was doing had something to do with her hand. At first nothing registered. Nothing but the smoothness and softness of Cameron’s skin. It made a weird sensation pool in her stomach. And she knew exactly what that sensation was. The pressure on her hand didn’t stop. Until she felt the bone, then she froze. The bone. She met Cameron’s eyes, and found Cameron eyeing her. There was uncertainty in her expression. She gulped, her hand now squeezing Cameron’s with her own strength. She was no queen in anatomy, but she knew enough to know that there were two bones in a human forearm. The radius and the ulna. It wasn’t the case with Cameron.
Cameron sensed that Sarah has figured out her intent. That she has figured out what words will not change. She averted her eyes away. “It’s metal in there. Everywhere.”
She picked up the sound of Sarah exhaling a heavy breath but beyond that, no words were said. She released the pressure of her hand, so that Sarah could pull back hers should she want to. Sarah did no such thing. In fact, the moment the pressure came off Sarah had begun to lightly caress the skin beneath her hand. That brought her attention back to Sarah. The woman smiled small at her.
“It’s not what you’re made of that matters,” Sarah said, and gave Cameron’s arm one last squeeze before she attempted to draw back her hand. But this time Cameron stopped her, and gripped her hand tight. She wasn’t surprised, nor did she seem against the act. “Why are you trying so hard to assert your inhumanity?”
“Why aren’t you?”
Sarah cast a fleeting glance at their joined hands. “You know.”
The glance did not go unnoticed. And that was not the only thing she noticed. For a while now, Sarah’s biological signals have been changing. Most notably her rising pulse and temperature. “I don’t.”
“Because I’m going crazy, that’s why,” she snapped, and dropped her gaze to their joined hands once again. That’s when she realized that Cameron wasn’t the only one holding on. Her grip was just as tight. She frowned, but didn’t release. “You’re driving me crazy.”
There was a pause before Cameron spoke. “I’m sorry.”
Sarah scoffed at the apology. She shook her head a little. “No you’re not.”
She felt the sagging of the bed before she saw the machine climbing on. Cameron loomed over Sarah, and then she lowered herself slowly to Sarah’s level. Sarah remained quiet, but Cameron didn’t need her to say anything anyway. The biological signals she was reading was more than enough. As she leaned in, Sarah caught a smirk on her face.
“No, I’m not.”