TW/SCC Fic: Optional History
Title: Optional History
Author: nancybrown
Fandoms: The Sarah Connor Chronicles / Torchwood
Characters: Savannah, Mica
Rating: PG
Summary: John would save the world by bringing people together in a resistance. Savannah prefers a more direct approach.
AN: Written for halfamoon
The Resistance has no unifying voice. Sarah told the stories, back when she was alive, about the travellers from the future, about John's intended fate to lead humanity. But John went far into the future with the woman who wasn't Savannah's mother, and the world has never known a hero named John Connor. Savannah would cry about it, but her tears were burned away on Judgement Day. She took John's place where she could, learning small arms, large arms, tactics, survival, all in a crash course as they fled the law, and later as they fled the metal.
She's no John Connor. With Sarah gone, and Ellison only a voice in her head, she has her band of survivors, but they are few, and she is still a girl of not quite twenty. John would have had a perfect storm of training, need, and the knowledge from birth that this was his destiny, and while Savannah has the first two, it was her brother who had the third, and John Henry is with John, whenever John has gone.
She wonders, on the long dark nights, if John would have had as much trouble sculpting a resistance out of such bitter clay as she's been left.
"You walk your own path," she hears in her head from the man who became her father, and she nods to herself. Her path is leading her across the ocean. She's left Martin in charge of their people. He'll keep them safe. She doesn't have the luxury of a destiny to tell her she'll be home again.
The journey takes slow, terrifying weeks. She always wanted to visit the country of her parents' birth. Not like this, though, with the fear of the terminators always on their minds, and a few stray signals her only beacon. If the Resistance is to grow, is to survive, if humanity is to fight the metal, she's got to seek out all the survivors, even the ones from far away, has to find a way to join them together. John did, in some other timeline. She can.
"About time you got here," is the greeting when they disembark under the cover of night. They're not in Scotland yet, but the closest signal is from here. Even as the two groups do their sniffing of each other, while their dogs sniff Savannah's open palm, stories begin falling in place in her mind, rumours.
"You lot are getting famous," she says, straightening up and throwing in a bit of the lilt she remembers from her mother's voice. "Is it too cliché to say, 'Take me to your leader?'"
They are led to an underground base, but Savannah is taken alone and under guard to the place she didn't know she needed to be until just now. "You're Weaver," says a voice by a work bench. It sounds as tired as she feels.
"And you're the Hare."
There's a shrug, and finally, the other figure straightens up. Savannah hides her surprise as she realises the girl is even younger than she is, perhaps eighteen at the oldest. Her hair is dark, her nose snub, and yes, there's something of a rabbit about the way she moves, like she might flee from a predator, or perhaps come up with a clever trick to escape. Savannah prefers older women as a rule, but every rule has exceptions.
"I've heard about your work," Savannah says, figuring flattery never hurts. "Nice job in London."
"That wasn't just me. We've got a network."
"As do we. We should join forces."
"If you say so." The girl goes back to her work.
Savannah joins her at the work bench. This isn't going according to the script in her head. Humanity needs to be coming together, forging new links. Only by joining forces can they combat the metal. She's not John, but she can follow in the footsteps he never had a chance to make. "If we share intel, we can fight the terminators. Humanity needs us to be working together."
"Yes, yes," says the girl. "But wouldn't you agree that what humanity really needs is for this not to have happened in the first place?"
Once there was a woman named Sarah Connor who tried to save the world. "Yeah."
"I've heard about you, too," says the girl in a low voice. "I've heard the rumours. Did you really see a time tunnel?" There's something in her eyes.
She wasn't there. It's both the one thing that saved her life, and her greatest regret. "My brother went through. I never saw him again. My mother, too," she adds, knowing it's a lie.
A short smile. "My brother was killed by the metal. Mam and Dad too. My uncle saved my life. Well, I call him my uncle. He never was part of the family, strictly speaking."
There's a knot in Savannah's throat. She called him "Dad" by the end of his life. Sarah was always an aunt figure, but Ellison rocked her to sleep at night and helped her say her prayers.
"He had to go," says the girl, snapping Savannah out of her reverie. "He left this with me." She shows the device on the bench, a leather strap, an intricate machine. "I've learned to fix just about anything, but I can't fix this on my own." Her eyes meet Savannah's. "I heard about you. You've seen this before. I needed your help, and you came."
"I came to ask you to join us." She remembers the story, the way this is supposed to go. But the signal brought her straight here.
"And I'm tellin' you, that won't work! The terminators are too strong." Her face is pinched. "This isn't like the bloody Daleks or the Cybermen. These were born here, and they're here to stay."
"It has to work." The Resistance worked in Derek's timeline, in Kyle's. Sarah was so certain.
"No." She takes Savannah's hand and places it on the bench. "Weaver, this is a time machine. If we can get it to work, we can go back and fix things." She says something else under her breath Savannah doesn't quite catch, but she supposes she'll meet the team's doctor later.
Savannah looks at their joined hands, looks past them to see what she wasn't able to see before: the clockwork beauty, the tiny twin to the device inside her memory from when she found her not-mother's time machine in the basement. Even as she sees, finally, she recalls it with perfect clarity, and can see the bit here not in tune with the rest. Making the repair won't be easy, but she has faith that she can do it. And then …
No fate but what we make.
She twists her hand, takes the girl's into a grip. "Savannah."
"Mica."
In a world that never was, John saved humanity by drawing together the survivors and building a Resistance that slowly pushed back against the terminators. Savannah isn't John, and she always did prefer a more direct approach. "All right, Mica. Let's save the world, shall we?"
Author: nancybrown
Fandoms: The Sarah Connor Chronicles / Torchwood
Characters: Savannah, Mica
Rating: PG
Summary: John would save the world by bringing people together in a resistance. Savannah prefers a more direct approach.
AN: Written for halfamoon
The Resistance has no unifying voice. Sarah told the stories, back when she was alive, about the travellers from the future, about John's intended fate to lead humanity. But John went far into the future with the woman who wasn't Savannah's mother, and the world has never known a hero named John Connor. Savannah would cry about it, but her tears were burned away on Judgement Day. She took John's place where she could, learning small arms, large arms, tactics, survival, all in a crash course as they fled the law, and later as they fled the metal.
She's no John Connor. With Sarah gone, and Ellison only a voice in her head, she has her band of survivors, but they are few, and she is still a girl of not quite twenty. John would have had a perfect storm of training, need, and the knowledge from birth that this was his destiny, and while Savannah has the first two, it was her brother who had the third, and John Henry is with John, whenever John has gone.
She wonders, on the long dark nights, if John would have had as much trouble sculpting a resistance out of such bitter clay as she's been left.
"You walk your own path," she hears in her head from the man who became her father, and she nods to herself. Her path is leading her across the ocean. She's left Martin in charge of their people. He'll keep them safe. She doesn't have the luxury of a destiny to tell her she'll be home again.
The journey takes slow, terrifying weeks. She always wanted to visit the country of her parents' birth. Not like this, though, with the fear of the terminators always on their minds, and a few stray signals her only beacon. If the Resistance is to grow, is to survive, if humanity is to fight the metal, she's got to seek out all the survivors, even the ones from far away, has to find a way to join them together. John did, in some other timeline. She can.
"About time you got here," is the greeting when they disembark under the cover of night. They're not in Scotland yet, but the closest signal is from here. Even as the two groups do their sniffing of each other, while their dogs sniff Savannah's open palm, stories begin falling in place in her mind, rumours.
"You lot are getting famous," she says, straightening up and throwing in a bit of the lilt she remembers from her mother's voice. "Is it too cliché to say, 'Take me to your leader?'"
They are led to an underground base, but Savannah is taken alone and under guard to the place she didn't know she needed to be until just now. "You're Weaver," says a voice by a work bench. It sounds as tired as she feels.
"And you're the Hare."
There's a shrug, and finally, the other figure straightens up. Savannah hides her surprise as she realises the girl is even younger than she is, perhaps eighteen at the oldest. Her hair is dark, her nose snub, and yes, there's something of a rabbit about the way she moves, like she might flee from a predator, or perhaps come up with a clever trick to escape. Savannah prefers older women as a rule, but every rule has exceptions.
"I've heard about your work," Savannah says, figuring flattery never hurts. "Nice job in London."
"That wasn't just me. We've got a network."
"As do we. We should join forces."
"If you say so." The girl goes back to her work.
Savannah joins her at the work bench. This isn't going according to the script in her head. Humanity needs to be coming together, forging new links. Only by joining forces can they combat the metal. She's not John, but she can follow in the footsteps he never had a chance to make. "If we share intel, we can fight the terminators. Humanity needs us to be working together."
"Yes, yes," says the girl. "But wouldn't you agree that what humanity really needs is for this not to have happened in the first place?"
Once there was a woman named Sarah Connor who tried to save the world. "Yeah."
"I've heard about you, too," says the girl in a low voice. "I've heard the rumours. Did you really see a time tunnel?" There's something in her eyes.
She wasn't there. It's both the one thing that saved her life, and her greatest regret. "My brother went through. I never saw him again. My mother, too," she adds, knowing it's a lie.
A short smile. "My brother was killed by the metal. Mam and Dad too. My uncle saved my life. Well, I call him my uncle. He never was part of the family, strictly speaking."
There's a knot in Savannah's throat. She called him "Dad" by the end of his life. Sarah was always an aunt figure, but Ellison rocked her to sleep at night and helped her say her prayers.
"He had to go," says the girl, snapping Savannah out of her reverie. "He left this with me." She shows the device on the bench, a leather strap, an intricate machine. "I've learned to fix just about anything, but I can't fix this on my own." Her eyes meet Savannah's. "I heard about you. You've seen this before. I needed your help, and you came."
"I came to ask you to join us." She remembers the story, the way this is supposed to go. But the signal brought her straight here.
"And I'm tellin' you, that won't work! The terminators are too strong." Her face is pinched. "This isn't like the bloody Daleks or the Cybermen. These were born here, and they're here to stay."
"It has to work." The Resistance worked in Derek's timeline, in Kyle's. Sarah was so certain.
"No." She takes Savannah's hand and places it on the bench. "Weaver, this is a time machine. If we can get it to work, we can go back and fix things." She says something else under her breath Savannah doesn't quite catch, but she supposes she'll meet the team's doctor later.
Savannah looks at their joined hands, looks past them to see what she wasn't able to see before: the clockwork beauty, the tiny twin to the device inside her memory from when she found her not-mother's time machine in the basement. Even as she sees, finally, she recalls it with perfect clarity, and can see the bit here not in tune with the rest. Making the repair won't be easy, but she has faith that she can do it. And then …
No fate but what we make.
She twists her hand, takes the girl's into a grip. "Savannah."
"Mica."
In a world that never was, John saved humanity by drawing together the survivors and building a Resistance that slowly pushed back against the terminators. Savannah isn't John, and she always did prefer a more direct approach. "All right, Mica. Let's save the world, shall we?"