[Completed]
WHO: John Connor and Claire Bennet
WHAT: He's walking around and obnoxiously weird girl bumps into him XD
WHERE: Wandering around the market. No specific spot.
WHEN: Mid-afternoon.
John shoved his hands into his pockets and keeping his head down made his way through the over crowded market. His mother's rules, that he had once said were etched behind ( Read more... )
"Do you uh..think he'd be bothered?" He wasn't exactly in the mood, or condition for any sort of confrontation if and when he came home. Placing the now mutilated ham into his mouth, he chewed as he considered her 'theory'. "Isn't that..a little extreme? I mean..there's air and it certainly, looks like Earth..."
"Well, maybe we'll get lucky and find the yellow brick road." He offered, with just a tint of sarcasm, but was slightly put at ease by the reference. The Wizard of Oz was his favourite story, probably ever. His mother...due to his 'destiny' was not very good at being maternal, he understood it, he guessed, but that didn't mean he liked it. It was one of the only motherly type things she'd ever done. He knew it off by heart in English and Spanish, and while it was a stupid to get comfortable in a place like this, it reminded him a little of home.
"So no one, you've met, knows what's going on...even a little?" Well...that was great. How could they plan to get home, when they didn't even know how this worked?
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Extreme. Well-- "does it look like it to you? It looks like we're in some place like... in the 19th century in a Caribbean pirate town. Except that there's some child Queen who's lived for ages because of some crystal thing and everyone who came here from different times and worlds and places... have their abilities somehow impaired, if not taken away entirely. Doesn't something about that sound really... off to you?"
Pulling her leg up onto the couch to sit on it, she shrugged. "Like, I can't heal as fast. I can still do it, though. And this one guy I was talking to... apparently his ability doesn't work anymore..." she shrugged.
Yellow Brick Road. Claire grinned. He was definitely something more or less familiar-- comforting, somehow. "Now if only we could be off to see the Wizard and float on back home in a hot air balloon!"
If only it were that easy.
"Not... really? I mean, everyone that was here before seems to have this weird glassy... look on their faces and they all seem uncharacteristically happy, and everyone else is trying to get back home. But given that there are a ton of people here and no one has left so far..." she sighed. The statement spoke for itself as she offered him a wry smile.
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"A little. I mean, there are cultures that still live in mud huts...And can they prove, she's been alive that long? Maybe they're lying. They think the will of God did this to us, I'm not sure I believe that they're all there, up top." He tapped his temples for emphasis. John didn't have very much room for believing things that couldn't be proven. If he trusted the wrong person, just one, the whole world could go to Hell, according to his mother. And he'd had proof she wasn't crazy.
These people? Looked...well they were just weird. Some of them talked in a way that didn't really make sense. Like, not quite old English...more like Shakespeare, and they dressed like that too. But...the houses...the houses were so normal...And the fact that the people didn't even know where they were, or refused to say was just...frustrating. He had a feeling it was going to drive a person crazy trying to figure it out with nothing to go on. Which, is why he resolved to go exploring all on his own as soon as he felt up to it.
"It sounds off yeah...But, so does being on some other planet in an entirely different universe than ours. Of course, we could just be in another dimension. I can't decide which sounds better. Kidnapped by crazies, or stranded somewhere without a way to get back."
He sent her a smile to let her know that while he was annoyed at the fact that not only did he not have answers, no one had them, that he wasn't annoyed at her, or trying to take out his frustration on her.
"Think the Wizard could help? We're not exactly missing organs. And don't forget the sparkly red shoes. I'll let you wear those, of course."
This was...nice. Normal. He didn't have enough normal in his life. And he didn't exactly have friends either. Of course, he'd helped some kid out in mechanics class, and he'd declared himself John's new best friend, but that didn't really count...And neither did his robot protector. He spent more time teaching her and telling her not to be a freak, and making excuse for her not-human behaviour than he did anything else.
No, this was as close to a normal interaction as he would get. It seemed more than a little par the course to him that he'd have to move to another dimension, or world or whatever he was in, for that to happen.
Finishing off his meal and water, he leaned forward to put them neatly at the floor by his feet, not quite ready to get up and figure things out, and resolved to put them away properly before he left. It was the least he could do. Leaning back again he considered her for a moment. "Could you show me where you got your clothes, later?" If he wanted to explore, he had to blend in. Besides, even if he didn't want to blend in, wearing this for more than two days was just disgusting.
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"Hm, yeah. I don't know. I just know we're not... home. And I don't know if we can get home." She just didn't see an out anywhere. They woke up randomly on some boat as if they'd been shanghaied-- there was no logical basis in this anywhere at all.
Missing organs. Well-- Claire would be able to regrow her kidney; it hardly meant she wanted to, though.
"Well, that's..." Claire laughed, grinning at him, "very nice of you!"
Gay? Probably not.
"Oh! Of course! There's a store not too far from here; I don't feel comfortable sticking out like a sore thumb here... call it conditioning, my dad got me used to it."
Thinking on this for a moment-- clothes, food, and so on and so forth-- she grinned again. "There's actually another free apartment in this building, you could probably move in there. I know my uncle is having some people for dinner over tonight, maybe you want to come?"
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He'd rather not think about it, but at some point, he knew he would have to. He'd spent enough time fearing for his life that he didn't want to add something else onto it. Terminator's...weren't so far fetched if one thought about it. Technology made advances all the time. From a cd player to an ipod in the space of a few years. But...magical beings? That was just...How did you defend yourself against something like that?
"Of course we can. We got here, didn't we? We just have to find it." Sure, it wouldn't be easy, and they might be here for a really, really long time, but there had to be a way off. He refused to give up and accept that this was his life now, before he even tried to get away from it.
He'd made her laugh, it was such...an unfamiliar sound from anyone, and it was...well it was really nice. He couldn't help but grin back, even as his ears turned pink a little.
"That'd be great. It'd be nice to be close." The pink turned a little more red. "I mean, I don't know anyone...and you're not, you know...weird...so...I'd love to come to dinner!" As well as have the ground open up and swallow him.
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...powers.
She didn't want him to think she was crazy!
"Actually--" she said, standing suddenly with a purpose now to get up, walk over to the kitchen, and grab the knife she'd used on the ham, "before you don't believe me when I say that-- or what I said earlier, about knowing what you meant when you said your life was messed up..." Claire took a deep breath and cleanly ran the blade down her arm, flinching just slightly-- deeper than she'd meant to go-- letting the blood run into the sink as she set the knife aside, watching with him as the skin knit itself together once more.
"I just... yeah. Before I have to make a spectacle of myself at dinner. Um. Maybe they -- I mean, it's usually faster than this, and I know my uncle can't do what he usually can... maybe they want us weaker somehow?"
She made a face, trying to think over that point. It was incredibly unsettling, to say the least.
"Maybe we should look around sometime? I mean, this place... seems pretty big. We could just get like... a satchel of stuff together and start walking. I'm sure we could come across something, right?"
Yes, she was practically asking him out.
Yes, she was blushing furiously.
Yes, she half hoped that he didn't see it that way, and half hoped he did. She had--
"I, uh... if this doesn't mean that I'm... weird all of a sudden... then I'd be really happy about that," she said, grinning a bit sheepishly over at him. "Both... having you... close and... having you come to dinner."
Having him close. That didn't sound wrong at all, oh no. Cue some more nervous laughter!
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But he'd stopped a few feet from her in shock when she'd run the knife down her arm and the blood spilled over into the sink like water over flowing from a glass, thick and constant, and...gone.
It was just...gone. All of it. The blood, and the cut, and all it left behind was some of the blood droplets that had dried onto her skin. He was sure if his eyes widened any farther they would just pop off his face.
"I...that was...you...people can't do that! And...and...it's faster?!" He pinched himself, sharply. He wasn't sure why he was so shocked, aside from the fact that some girl he'd just met had cut herself on purpose. To prove she wasn't crazy sure, and he got it, but that...that was just shocking to see anyway. He wasn't dreaming.
Oh, God. She could do stuff. And she wasn't a Terminator. He knew Cameron, his Terminator could heal cuts, but her skin wasn't...well it was real, it could sweat and be cut, and blood would well up, but she'd never actually literally bleed, it was just...she wasn't human, it was just living tissue over metal parts and so she could regenerate faster. This...
This was a living breathing girl, and oh God, maybe he was crazy and...
"Make us weaker? I...I'm still trying to wrap my head around the 'injury, be-gone!' trick here...I...whoa."
And wait, what? Was she asking him out? No. That couldn't be right. He was, well he was weird. A dork, and outcast, on purpose but...he was...girls didn't like him. Didn't notice him. And just because he was on some magical island didn't necessarily mean she did either. She was just..being polite. That was all. Right.
"I was planning on doing that after I felt better." Realizing that sounded kind of blunt, and more like a no, he hurried to add, self concious once more. "It'd...be nice to have company, and...two eyes are always..better than one...right? You'll be easy to find too.."
He resolved to be more careful on how he spoke in the future, he didn't want to alienate his...almost sort of friend. He'd need someone around here he could talk to, spend time with, to bounce ideas off of. Or he was sure to actually go crazy if he had only himself and his own thoughts to accompany him. Weird abilities or not, she was...well she was...great.
"It...doesn't. I uh...it would be nice...you'll be easy to find this way, for our adventure...and...other times." Gah! Why did that not sound as good out loud as it had in his head? "So! Wanna show me where it is right now? And you know, clothes. I need...clothes."
Wait...She wanted to have him close? Did she mean...they just met, she didn't, he was being a freak, and he needed to go do something else nownownow. He cursed not for the first time, the life he'd led which had just made him so damn awkward.
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Better show him now than later. If he found her intolerable... well. He should know straight away so neither of them got attached to the new friendship that seemed to be developing.
She sighed. There was Peter, sure, and that guy Adam, who could do what she could do apparently, and that was all fine and good, but--
She didn't want to have to be such a freak.
"I'm sorry, um... I'll-- yeah, uh, I'll understand if this means you won't want to... spend time with me anymore-- I just wanted you to know right away so you would know whether to bolt now or... later, because I don't really want to get close and then... have you decide that you don't want to be friends with someone like me."
Like a stupid curse, or something.
"I mean, yeah. If you'd like to do that, it'd be... probably pretty useful," she said, nodding, glancing down with a fierce blush spreading across her cheeks.
...wait.
What?
He didn't think this made her weird?
Claire grinned-- a bit shyly at first, biting her lip. "Well, it's not like I run around hurting myself on purpose," she laughed. That was... almost the truth. Not on purpose-- but she had, for some reason, a strange penchant for getting hurt.
"Oh! Sure!" she said, nodding as she rounded the counter, grabbing hold of his hand again. Shameless. "I can show you the place and then we can go to the clothing store. I forgot the name. You ready or do you want something more to eat?"
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And really, it wasn't the weirdest thing he'd ever seen, or even heard about. The part that had him freaked out the most, was the random [well, to him], self inflicted injury.
"I...I'd still like, to be friends. Or, you know, get there." If he even really knew what that ment. Friends were something other people had, but he was sure it had something to do with accepting the weird stuff and being honest. He could do that. Well, most of that.
He wished he could do the honest part too. Especially since she'd opened up to him about something that most people would keep quiet about. She'd clearly taken a chance and trusted him, but he couldn't do the same. Not only because, his life was totally crazy and he knew what happened when you told the wrong person, but he also knew he could prove it.
He was also...really, paranoid besides that. For good reason, but being on the run and always learning a new last name, a new life to tell people, it just...it was hard to tell sometimes what was true anymore and what was a lie. He'd tell her maybe, one day. If they didn't get away from here anytime soon.
It didn't seem like there was anyone who could actually recognize or hurt him here, or that his future was even possible where she was from or...Worrying about it made his head hurt. One day, maybe. But that day was quite a ways away.
"I've seen weirder things, just next time you want to go give yourself an injury, give a guy a little more warning, okay?" He grinned, and then nodded in understanding at her continued explanation. It made sense after all, no one exactly was asking to get hurt, whether you could heal or not.
Moving back to the couch to pick up the plate and the glass, he'd put them neatly in the sink, before turning back to face her. "I'm ready to go, thanks."
He'd frozen a full moment when she'd taken his hand in the same upbeat manner he'd begun to associate with her. He was unused to being touched in such away. Generally it was a shove to floor, or being dragged around. You know, useful things, not...sweet things. The smile he gave her was small, and if not a little bit confused.
In the square it had made sense, to not get lost, and John had been more than a little out of it, and trying too hard to think around the dizzyness than being able to focus on following her through a mass of people. Now that he'd had food, and water, and a chance to actually sit and rest, he was sure he could do it on his own, but even though he was confused and he knew that, his fingers closed around hers and he gave a little tug on their now joined hands to get them going.
"Lead the way..."
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Us? No. Never. We wouldn't play well together.
Completely dismissed the idea of the two of them being friends, not a single memory left-- she'd felt so unbelievably alone back then, him being one of the only people that had known about her practically from the beginning.
A part of her wanted to ask whether they weren't friends already, but maybe Claire was just different in that respect, too. She'd always been the more popular one, a cheerleader, Homecoming queen-- however gruesomely that had ended-- and on top of that, she was simply a friendly, upbeat, touchy sort of person, stubborn and foolhardy and doing things and later thinking about them.
"Yeah... sorry," she said, nervously biting on her lower lip, staring down somewhat sheepishly. At least she'd told Zach not to freak out.
Way to go, Claire.
And hadn't he said his life was messed up?
"It's not all great, I mean..." she sighed. "One guy wants to kill me, this Company wants to experiment on me, my sets of parents want to treat me like I'm porcelain, shipping me off to France, or Canada under some alias, or we'll have to move away from home and get our names changed..." she frowned.
It had been a very long couple of months.
When he grinned though, she grinned back again, nodding. "I don't plan on doing it again," she laughed. "Not intentionally, anyway."
It was just the sort of person she was. She wasn't about to second-guess something like that; she was being friendly, so why shouldn't she grab hold of his hand? There was nothing awkward about the gesture, and, giving a supportive nod, she left the small flat with him, climbing up the stairs to the second floor, another familiar-looking red door greeting them that she opened and stepped inside.
It looked very similar in its layout, the styling hardly different as well-- the same Victorian sort of twist to everything about, everything already furnished.
At least it looked like... it could be someone's home.
"Well? Good enough for you, do you think?" she asked, flashing him a smile as she gently squeezed his hand.
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"Stop apologizing, don't worry about it. I'm all over the shock, promise."
He arched an eyebrow. "I think messed up is a bit of an understatment, but it's understandable that you're parents are so protective. My mother is too. Always had to be home straight after school."
Which, wasn't a lie, and he'd told as much to Cameron back when he thought she was a normal girl, and even though he was no stranger to having attempts on his life, he sounded so much more crazy than she did. And even if he felt he could share, he spent so much time running from who he was that..admitting it out loud to another person would make it real, and he couldn't do that.
Not when he could possibly change it all and he'd never have to be that person, the one that made the hard decisions, that saved everyone.
"That's good, healing or not, I doubt it feels to great."
When he followed her one floor up, and still very close that he was sure he'd be able to find her apartment later, even though he hadn't paid too much attention going in, and looked around the living space with interest.
The living room was a little larger than her's, but beyond some slightly different looking furniture and different colour schemes, it looked pretty much the same. The same barren type of qualities. Stocked with necessities and not much else.
"It's great. I've been in worse places..." He tilted his head and considered, "A lot worse." The only thing it had going against it was that it looked like a shelter rather than a home, and really bad decor. In a situation like this he knew, you couldn't be too picky.
He squeezed her hand back gently, and smiled back. "Think you'll remember where it is?"
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"Yeah, it's... kind of like that," she said, giving him a lopsided smile. It didn't exactly match up, but Claire wasn't about to say that, so the humored sort of expression would do.
"I... feel pain, I just get over it quickly," she said, shrugging it off. "I've gotten used to it, I guess. The feeling of healing is... interesting. It almost feels... nice, you know? Endorphins and all?"
Claire swallowed. Nice was an understatement. She wasn't exactly a masochist, but the feeling of things pulling themselves back together was euphoric at times.
A pain/pleasure boundary she tread on almost too often.
"It's not much, but..." Well, really, it looked more so like a grandmother's Victorian London flat than a bachelor pad, but it would do for now, surely.
After all, her and Peter were sharing a bed. She wasn't sure where that sort of thing ranked on making it work, but she figured it pretty high up there.
"How could I forget?" she asked, grinning over at him. "Clothes?"
There was, of course, something else that she hadn't dared to think of before then, dealing entirely with where they both came from and where they'd be returning to, if they got to.
If the two of them became friends, and then...
Claire swallowed.
"Listen," she started, turning to face him but not letting go of his hand at all, "I don't know if we're from different worlds, or the same world, or a different dimension, but... if we ever make it back... I mean... if you can... maybe we could be friends there, too?"
Though she had a feeling that they were from different worlds, and that the chances of that--
"I think I'd be sad to find that you weren't there at all if we ever went back," she admitted a bit sheepishly, a fierce blush creeping over her face once more.
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Grandmother's flat, or bachelor pad, it was all the same to John. He'd been in so many different 'homes' that he could hardly remember them all. Some of them had mold growing in places and the things that passed for a bed were matresses on the floor with springs that seemed ready to pop out and skewer him. So, really, this was good.
It was just another temporary home in a long list of them, only this one? Had no weapons hidden inside. Had no protector. He was on his own, and he severely doubted they were handing out weapons to for free, or at all to a bunch of people really didn't want to be there.
He was 99.9% sure he wasn't going to get any sleep during his stay, not that, sleep was something that ever came easy when he was on the move either. Part of the territory of running for your life he guess. When one defenseless moment could get you killed, you tried not to have a lot of them.
Which, no matter apparantly, how far away he was from his life and where he could for once, be somewhat of a normal kid, he couldn't seem to focus on anything but the rules that dictated his life, and even though for an entire afternoon he'd allowed himself to pretend he was just a boy meeting a girl, he wasn't. And...he hated that. He wanted to just be a regular boy. Even if she wasn't quite a regular sort of girl.
He tilted his head to regard her, to show he was listening seriously, and actually focusing on her properly, rather than wandering off into his thoughts like he usually did, since she seemed to be nervous, or...unsure about her next topic. She'd even made it a point to face him head on.
"I'll find you." He told her hoarsley, and seriously, it wouldn't be hard. If it took him a few hours to hack the FBI database, it wouldn't be too hard to find her if he wanted to. And...he was pretty sure he wanted to. Even if it was just to make sure she got out okay, and maybe one time, when they were running, he could suggest to hide out in her city, but...as for being friends?
It'd be long distance at best. It was all he could offer. That was of course, assuming they were even from the same version of Earth or whatever the heck they were coming from. "I'd just need your last name, and if you're there, I'll find you."
And the blush was...cute and all sorts of new. Girls didn't get flustered over him, or over things they said to him, and he wasn't quite sure how to handle it.
"I uh...I'd be sad too, I think...But...Clothes, let's go?"
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He got quiet for a long while, and Claire regarded him as he seemed to go off on his own mental tangent, a smile tugging up at the corners of her mouth.
At least here they could pretend they were normal even if they really weren't. Could... pretend that they were just a boy and a girl who could go on adventures and...
Claire wished she was five again.
He'd find her. As long as she was even there to be found-- it was now that it would be a fantastic time for them to figure out whether everyone had been pulled from different... incarnations of Earth, or all from the same one.
"It's Bennet," she told him, smiling. "If they don't make me change it to protect me or something." Which meant that they'd have to see about finding each other somewhat quickly. "Before I came here, I... was supposed to go to Canada as Vivian Lewis and start over again so no one would know me there. But I left behind the guy that was supposed to take me... stole his passport and tickets, threw them away, headed to New York to see my uncle instead. But he wasn't there-- he was busy getting himself killed by this guy who wants our brains so he can take our abilities... so I ended up intercepted by the guy I left behind at the airport and my biological grandmother-- I'm adopted, see-- and then we managed to get my uncle back and I met my biological dad for the first time again... but then--"
She stopped herself, blushing again. "I'm sorry, I'm babbling."
He'd be sad, too. Or so he thought. Claire wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but she decided to take it for face-value.
"Oh! Yeah. Clothes! Right! Sure!" she said rather quickly, keeping his hand in hers as she pulled him back out of the apartment and down the stairs.
"It's right around here actually-- there," she said, pointing and taking him inside. "Just... pick something that doesn't look too bad... you won't have to pay, they're giving away things for free just for right now," she explained, gesturing at the clothes all around.
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Well, now he figured, the best way to get used to new information was to continously expose himself to it. As long as she didn't...do anymore voluntary demonstrations, he figured this was an easy enough ability to get used to.
And definately a lot less weird than watching someone cut their skin off to prove they were a machine.
"If they do, wouldn't there be records of that somewhere, for them at least?" A new name and a new hair colour wouldn't do much to change her face, and if she was going to regenerate pretty much for everything, it wasn't changing anytime soon. He'd still have more luck finding her out there, than most people.
"Whoa, wait...Take your brains? You know, maybe being on this island will be good for you..." And for himself maybe. This wasn't exactly what he defined as normal, but he wasn't very optimistic and he knew that, even if he fought continously to try and stop Judgement Day from happening, and if he succeeded...this would still most likely be the most normal expierence of his life.
"It's okay.." He found it kind of endearing actually, and if she kept talking, he didn't quite have to as much. Which for him, was always nice. He was too unused to socializing to not occasionally say something that would either embarress himself, or cause the other person to, well, think he was a jerk.
He frowned at that. "Just for right now? So what are we supposed to do in terms of payment afterwards?" Did they just not notice they stole a bunch of minors?
Beyond that he stared at the clothes with a mildly blank expression. "I don't even know where to start."
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It was almost interesting to watch her recant the story, smiling every now and then at the memory, eyes far off in another place.
"I broke so many bones, had my ribs sticking out of my torso when we walked back home... I had him crash his car into me... shoved a two-foot steel rod through my neck... I didn't have one scratch left on me. Once I shoved my hand into the sink disposal to go after a ring and messed my hand up something aweful. I... got--"
Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes became more haunted--
"Got... raped once... well, I think I did. He tried to... force me, and... I fell and got a branch impaled in the back of my neck, right--" she took his hand and reached it behind her neck until his finger touched on the spot just at the base of her skull, "here. After that I died, because the path to my brain was obstructed, and I couldn't regenerate until it was taken out. And that... happened... on an autopsy table, the entire front of my torso split wide open like... four folded open corners..."
She sighed. "After that I took his sports car and crashed it. I healed, he didn't. He ended up in a wheel chair... star quarterback, too. I one... did an exorcist headspin on a football field, actually, my neck snapping. I was a cheerleader. I once... pulled a guy out of a fire..."
...she got hurt a lot, didn't she? Thinking back, she tried to consider which other ones were particularly bad.
"I once... well, I was shot in the front and spit up the bullet, like I told you... I was once thrown into a wall and had all my body parts mangled... had someone almost split my head open and pop the top of my skull off so he could take my brain... walked through my childhood home in Odessa while pieces of skin were torn off and I was left charred and burnt, because I had to administer a tranquilizer to a man who had been shot, causing him to emit so much radiation he wasn't only setting the whole house on fire, he was glowing... um. I dropped several stories to get away from my bio grandma and my bio father and... well, then I ended up here. I... think those are all the really bad ones. I think."
...it was quite a list as it was.
Claire sighed.
"I'm a freak," she said somewhat glumly. "And, well, I had to do the thing at the gravel plant twice because at one point Zach got his memories wiped because my dad found out and... there's this Haitian, he can steal people's memories-- he thought he was protecting me, but Zach was the only one that knew and he was my best friend..."
They hadn't always been. But so quickly-- just two weeks, had it been?-- Zach had become her everything. And now--
"Yeah, I guess. I hope so, anyway." She'd lost enough people, and now she found out that anyone she might meet and become close to she'd have to watch die anyway, so she might as well stick to a few close friends instead of having to go through so many, only making the pain worse--
It was going to be bad either way.
"Maybe-- yeah, like... a vacation, right? I mean. It can't be so bad. But.. yeah. There's a serial killer after... me, specifically, because I have a pretty nifty ability, immortality and all..." she sighed again.
"Uh, I don't know yet. I mean, I asked someone about that, and-- well, the journal thing. And someone replied... I mean, the Queen said that we'd have to figure things out after a while... I don't know. Get jobs maybe? I know my uncle Peter was thinking about opening like a hospital, I guess... I could help there? I'm not sure yet, but I'm a little worried about it, not going to lie about that."
Oh-- clothes! She could deal with that. "Here, try this on," she said, handing him a random garment and grinning.
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