SCC drabble: "that awful (familiar) dream"
Title: That awful (familiar) dream.
Fandom: Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles.
Cannon Characters: John Connor, the 2nd Terminator.
Word count: 232.
Author: Keenir.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: pilot.
Summary: He knows it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There is nothing more terrible than the sound of a dream shattering into a thousand pieces. Hakhannalituu vanatt. No, there is one thing more terrible, and only one thing. Only one thing could possibly be worse.
The dream turning out to be horribly true. And it will.
John Connor knew one dream and knew it well. Knew it intimately. Knew it inside and out, by sight, smell, sound, and touch in his dream. Could recite his dream - but never did - forwards and backwards.
His dream was of a point in time he had heard about since he could hear. His mind’s representation of the story he’d nursed and weaned on. The story he’d heard as he went through the terrible twos and puberty. The dream that would come to fruition all in time. The Terminator had said so, had confirmed his dream was reality already as far as it was concerned.
Snippets of words that came to mind. Shashtallaat afait meir meirul. Things he’d say, things he was hiding from himself. Future keeping a few secrets from the past. Him-then from him-now and from him-was.
One day he’d know. As he’s saying them. As he’s standing in a graveyard of skulls and metal. As he’s facing the vestige of humanity, rallying those who survived the winnowing.
He’ll know.
John hopes he knows what was so important it needed to be a secret.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End
Fandom: Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles.
Cannon Characters: John Connor, the 2nd Terminator.
Word count: 232.
Author: Keenir.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: pilot.
Summary: He knows it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There is nothing more terrible than the sound of a dream shattering into a thousand pieces. Hakhannalituu vanatt. No, there is one thing more terrible, and only one thing. Only one thing could possibly be worse.
The dream turning out to be horribly true. And it will.
John Connor knew one dream and knew it well. Knew it intimately. Knew it inside and out, by sight, smell, sound, and touch in his dream. Could recite his dream - but never did - forwards and backwards.
His dream was of a point in time he had heard about since he could hear. His mind’s representation of the story he’d nursed and weaned on. The story he’d heard as he went through the terrible twos and puberty. The dream that would come to fruition all in time. The Terminator had said so, had confirmed his dream was reality already as far as it was concerned.
Snippets of words that came to mind. Shashtallaat afait meir meirul. Things he’d say, things he was hiding from himself. Future keeping a few secrets from the past. Him-then from him-now and from him-was.
One day he’d know. As he’s saying them. As he’s standing in a graveyard of skulls and metal. As he’s facing the vestige of humanity, rallying those who survived the winnowing.
He’ll know.
John hopes he knows what was so important it needed to be a secret.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End