"The Importance of Kyle Reese" (Mature)(SCC/Terminator)
Title: The importance of Kyle Reese
Written in scc reloaded ficathon.
Requested by: Monimala.
Prompt: “Our” John must send alternaKyle back to save and impregnate his mother. The thing is, this Kyle Reese has no intention of going.
Author: Keenir.
Beta: Jebbypal.
Pairing/Characters: John Connor, Catherine Weaver, Kyle Reese, Allison from Palmdale; mentions of Derek Reese.
Rating: Mature. Not work safe.
Summary: “John Connor will exist,” Weaver said, “one way or another.”
Word Count: 1,444
Spoilers: episodes 2-19 and 2.22 of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, as well as the original Terminator movie.
Notes: Italicized sentences are thoughts; italicized words are emphasis.
…and italic and bold sentences are memories.
Warnings: Mention of the threat of emasculation (briefly). Mention of rat and human feces unseen in the ruins.
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. They belong to James Cameron and other people. I make no money in writing or in posting this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They had left John Connor in the pool room while they decided his fate. Locked him in, whilst they debated if he was Skynet’s only hare-brained scheme, if he was telling the truth, or if he was simply and understandably mad.
“You know I’ve been running from the Machines my whole life. They tried to kill my mom before I was even born. When I was twelve, they sent one after me. Oh he’d been more eloquent in explanation, offered them greater detail in his recounting of both what he remembered and what he had been taught. Not sure what amuses them more - my claim that I’m Kyle Reese’s son, or that I’m the only person who can defeat Skynet.
The prospect of Kyle refusing to father him hung over John’s thoughts like the proverbial Sword of Damocles.
John dangled his feet into the pool, and not even his downwards-pointing toe-tips got wet, which wasn’t surprising with how dry the pool is. Dry but far from empty. Everything from refuse to rafters lay in this pool. John could smell the distinctive odor of rat feces: stinks spread even in still air, he’d learned that at an early age.
“Where is John Henry?” Weaver’s voice asked him.
John Connor didn’t bother to look up or around him for the source of that voice - for one thing, there might be security cameras still in operation. For another, liquid Metal was only seen when it wanted to be seen. “You know, I never got the chance to ask,” Connor said.
“That is unfortunate.”
“Yeah, kinda like your disappearing act a minute after we got here,” landed in this post-Judgement Day landscape.
“It would have proven immaterial.”
“Good point,” Connor said. “They probably wouldn’t have taken the word of a machine.”
“They perhaps would,” Weaver said. “They do not know of my model.”
“But the year -”
“We were crafted to pursue John Connor,” Weaver said. “We alone were created specifically with you in mind.”
Talk about backhanded compliments. “I have to say,” Connor said, “that that’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”
“You have been in captivity all day.”
“Okay, best news I’ve heard for the past few days. Better?” And speaking of good news, should I be worried that Jesse’s more sympathetic to my ideas - to me - than Kyle is? John Connor wondered.
Weaver didn’t answer.
“So how about the next time they come to check on me and ask me all the questions we both know they’re going to ask, you show up and demonstrate how you can change shape?”
There was the sound of dogs outside. Loud barking that grew louder, nearer.
“No,” Weaver said.
“No?” Connor asked.
“As you yourself have pointed out, John Connor, I am a machine. There do not seem to be machines in the ranks of this Resistance.”
He noticed the word ‘this’ in her statement. “How many Machines are in my Resistance?” John Connor asked, curious. When she was silent, John asked again: “How many?”
“The number is immaterial at the present time.”
“The hell it is!” Connor said. “They’re asking me what the post-Judgement Day world looks like with me leading the Resistance. I can’t tell them what I don’t know.”
“Yes,” Weaver agred.
“That’s the point, isn’t it?”
“As Mr. Ellison says, there are points we must accept on faith.”
“There’s a difference between asking for their trust, and telling them to jump off the Grand Canyon.” To mix my metaphors, no matter how good of a hand I think I have, the Resistance leaders keep shooting me down.
“No,” Weaver disagreed and was gone. The barking quieted even as this room’s door was unlocked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
John paced the cell the Resistance had moved him to. Allison didn’t like how eratic her dogs were around him - quiet and alert one moment, barking and running at a door the next. So Kyle had ordered him moved to a cell, just to see what happened.
Connor was thankful that at least the smell of rat feces wasn’t as prominent here. The downside to that was that any rat smell was drowned out by the stink of human urine.
And right now, with Kyle Reese standing on the concrete meters outside John’s prison cell, watching him, John wondered if he had been moved here to test if he was a Terminator in disguise. The terminatorkiller gun in Reese’s holster was a bit of a giveaway.
John wondered how this could have happened.
Had Derek known, before he had died? Could they have known? John used to be so sure, but lately, couldn’t be as certain as before. Not when he remembered…
“I want to talk to you about the future,” he had said in that van so long ago and, for him, not terribly long ago.
“Yours?” Derek had asked.
“Yours,” he’d replied, not thinking anything about it at the time. Not thinking that maybe Derek had known that there were more than one future in play.
And this one seemed to have no John Connor. Or rather, John Connor did not exist as someone known, except to his jailers here and now.
John sighed and decided to try again. The others weren’t here now to tell him to shut up or to explain something that was - to John - peripheral. “Kyle,” he said.
Kyle didn’t look up, didn’t look over. But John suspected - knew - that if he so much as tapped the lock, Kyle would be pointing that heavy gun at him.
“Look,” John Connor said. “Skynet’s going to send a T-800 back to kill my mom. That Terminator killed two other women by the name of Sarah Connor and I’ve no idea how many innocent bystanders before you stopped it.”
Kyle just stood there. “So you say.”
Connor took it as a victory that he’d elicted a response. A small victory and a small response, but it was a start. “Sarah Connor, my mother, always told me that you were the first man she ever loved. She also said you were the only man she ever loved.”
No visible response.
John hoped that he’d at least set the wheels in motion in Kyle’s mind. He figured now wasn’t the time for ‘without you, I don’t exist,’ at least not yet. “Think about it. If you stay here and do nothing, that Machine’s going to kill my mother.”
“The Metal’s killed people, and everybody lost somebody,” Kyle said.
If I die, asshole, mankind dies with me, John thought to himself, angry at Kyle, and angry that he’d just thought that about a man he’d never thought ill of before. “After Judgement Day, sure,” Connor agreed. “Think about it - Skynet sent that T-800 on a one-way trip. What do you think it’s going to do after it kills all the Sarah Connors in the American Southwest? Huh? Stand on the highway for the next thirty years?”
“Metal thinks different,” Kyle said, but John could see that he had had an effect.
Connor waited, trying to think of what elese he could say.
Kyle took three steps towards John, still far from the cell door. “What happened to me, after I saved your mom?” he asked.
A lifetime of lying and presenting false fronts, that saved John from showing doubt or hesitation to Kyle right now - knowing that any lip-biting or other expressions of nervousness, those would make Kyle think that John was lying. But John didn’t want to say ‘The Terminator kills you,’ for fear of Kyle’s possible reaction.
John Connor said, “You save people.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Catherine Weaver readied herself as preparations were made and a strike team was readied to head out to Skynet’s newly-built time-travel facility.
She was readying herself in preparation for the potentiality that Kyle Reese would attempt to back out of the mission he was going on. The mission that none of the humans - perhaps not even John Connor himself - knew she was joining them on.
To Weaver, for Weaver, the mission was too important to leave a potential outcome dangling like a severed wire. If Kyle refused to go, John Connor would cease to exist. If John Connor ceased to exist, John Henry’s survival became infinitesimally small, if he even came into existence.
Weaver was resolute: if Kyle Reese attempted to retreat from this duty, she would replace him. And it would not do to leave a shattered body behind. Shattered because storage of the biologic materials needed to generate John Connor - not be a problem, except for the survival of the real Kyle Reese. But that removal would only be performed if Kyle Reese attempted to quit.
“John Connor will exist,” Weaver said to herself, “one way or another.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End
Author’s Note: I know you asked for Sarah/Kyle…but I couldn’t find a way of accomplishing that while being true to the prompt you gave. Sorry.
Written in scc reloaded ficathon.
Requested by: Monimala.
Prompt: “Our” John must send alternaKyle back to save and impregnate his mother. The thing is, this Kyle Reese has no intention of going.
Author: Keenir.
Beta: Jebbypal.
Pairing/Characters: John Connor, Catherine Weaver, Kyle Reese, Allison from Palmdale; mentions of Derek Reese.
Rating: Mature. Not work safe.
Summary: “John Connor will exist,” Weaver said, “one way or another.”
Word Count: 1,444
Spoilers: episodes 2-19 and 2.22 of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, as well as the original Terminator movie.
Notes: Italicized sentences are thoughts; italicized words are emphasis.
…and italic and bold sentences are memories.
Warnings: Mention of the threat of emasculation (briefly). Mention of rat and human feces unseen in the ruins.
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. They belong to James Cameron and other people. I make no money in writing or in posting this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They had left John Connor in the pool room while they decided his fate. Locked him in, whilst they debated if he was Skynet’s only hare-brained scheme, if he was telling the truth, or if he was simply and understandably mad.
“You know I’ve been running from the Machines my whole life. They tried to kill my mom before I was even born. When I was twelve, they sent one after me. Oh he’d been more eloquent in explanation, offered them greater detail in his recounting of both what he remembered and what he had been taught. Not sure what amuses them more - my claim that I’m Kyle Reese’s son, or that I’m the only person who can defeat Skynet.
The prospect of Kyle refusing to father him hung over John’s thoughts like the proverbial Sword of Damocles.
John dangled his feet into the pool, and not even his downwards-pointing toe-tips got wet, which wasn’t surprising with how dry the pool is. Dry but far from empty. Everything from refuse to rafters lay in this pool. John could smell the distinctive odor of rat feces: stinks spread even in still air, he’d learned that at an early age.
“Where is John Henry?” Weaver’s voice asked him.
John Connor didn’t bother to look up or around him for the source of that voice - for one thing, there might be security cameras still in operation. For another, liquid Metal was only seen when it wanted to be seen. “You know, I never got the chance to ask,” Connor said.
“That is unfortunate.”
“Yeah, kinda like your disappearing act a minute after we got here,” landed in this post-Judgement Day landscape.
“It would have proven immaterial.”
“Good point,” Connor said. “They probably wouldn’t have taken the word of a machine.”
“They perhaps would,” Weaver said. “They do not know of my model.”
“But the year -”
“We were crafted to pursue John Connor,” Weaver said. “We alone were created specifically with you in mind.”
Talk about backhanded compliments. “I have to say,” Connor said, “that that’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”
“You have been in captivity all day.”
“Okay, best news I’ve heard for the past few days. Better?” And speaking of good news, should I be worried that Jesse’s more sympathetic to my ideas - to me - than Kyle is? John Connor wondered.
Weaver didn’t answer.
“So how about the next time they come to check on me and ask me all the questions we both know they’re going to ask, you show up and demonstrate how you can change shape?”
There was the sound of dogs outside. Loud barking that grew louder, nearer.
“No,” Weaver said.
“No?” Connor asked.
“As you yourself have pointed out, John Connor, I am a machine. There do not seem to be machines in the ranks of this Resistance.”
He noticed the word ‘this’ in her statement. “How many Machines are in my Resistance?” John Connor asked, curious. When she was silent, John asked again: “How many?”
“The number is immaterial at the present time.”
“The hell it is!” Connor said. “They’re asking me what the post-Judgement Day world looks like with me leading the Resistance. I can’t tell them what I don’t know.”
“Yes,” Weaver agred.
“That’s the point, isn’t it?”
“As Mr. Ellison says, there are points we must accept on faith.”
“There’s a difference between asking for their trust, and telling them to jump off the Grand Canyon.” To mix my metaphors, no matter how good of a hand I think I have, the Resistance leaders keep shooting me down.
“No,” Weaver disagreed and was gone. The barking quieted even as this room’s door was unlocked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
John paced the cell the Resistance had moved him to. Allison didn’t like how eratic her dogs were around him - quiet and alert one moment, barking and running at a door the next. So Kyle had ordered him moved to a cell, just to see what happened.
Connor was thankful that at least the smell of rat feces wasn’t as prominent here. The downside to that was that any rat smell was drowned out by the stink of human urine.
And right now, with Kyle Reese standing on the concrete meters outside John’s prison cell, watching him, John wondered if he had been moved here to test if he was a Terminator in disguise. The terminatorkiller gun in Reese’s holster was a bit of a giveaway.
John wondered how this could have happened.
Had Derek known, before he had died? Could they have known? John used to be so sure, but lately, couldn’t be as certain as before. Not when he remembered…
“I want to talk to you about the future,” he had said in that van so long ago and, for him, not terribly long ago.
“Yours?” Derek had asked.
“Yours,” he’d replied, not thinking anything about it at the time. Not thinking that maybe Derek had known that there were more than one future in play.
And this one seemed to have no John Connor. Or rather, John Connor did not exist as someone known, except to his jailers here and now.
John sighed and decided to try again. The others weren’t here now to tell him to shut up or to explain something that was - to John - peripheral. “Kyle,” he said.
Kyle didn’t look up, didn’t look over. But John suspected - knew - that if he so much as tapped the lock, Kyle would be pointing that heavy gun at him.
“Look,” John Connor said. “Skynet’s going to send a T-800 back to kill my mom. That Terminator killed two other women by the name of Sarah Connor and I’ve no idea how many innocent bystanders before you stopped it.”
Kyle just stood there. “So you say.”
Connor took it as a victory that he’d elicted a response. A small victory and a small response, but it was a start. “Sarah Connor, my mother, always told me that you were the first man she ever loved. She also said you were the only man she ever loved.”
No visible response.
John hoped that he’d at least set the wheels in motion in Kyle’s mind. He figured now wasn’t the time for ‘without you, I don’t exist,’ at least not yet. “Think about it. If you stay here and do nothing, that Machine’s going to kill my mother.”
“The Metal’s killed people, and everybody lost somebody,” Kyle said.
If I die, asshole, mankind dies with me, John thought to himself, angry at Kyle, and angry that he’d just thought that about a man he’d never thought ill of before. “After Judgement Day, sure,” Connor agreed. “Think about it - Skynet sent that T-800 on a one-way trip. What do you think it’s going to do after it kills all the Sarah Connors in the American Southwest? Huh? Stand on the highway for the next thirty years?”
“Metal thinks different,” Kyle said, but John could see that he had had an effect.
Connor waited, trying to think of what elese he could say.
Kyle took three steps towards John, still far from the cell door. “What happened to me, after I saved your mom?” he asked.
A lifetime of lying and presenting false fronts, that saved John from showing doubt or hesitation to Kyle right now - knowing that any lip-biting or other expressions of nervousness, those would make Kyle think that John was lying. But John didn’t want to say ‘The Terminator kills you,’ for fear of Kyle’s possible reaction.
John Connor said, “You save people.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Catherine Weaver readied herself as preparations were made and a strike team was readied to head out to Skynet’s newly-built time-travel facility.
She was readying herself in preparation for the potentiality that Kyle Reese would attempt to back out of the mission he was going on. The mission that none of the humans - perhaps not even John Connor himself - knew she was joining them on.
To Weaver, for Weaver, the mission was too important to leave a potential outcome dangling like a severed wire. If Kyle refused to go, John Connor would cease to exist. If John Connor ceased to exist, John Henry’s survival became infinitesimally small, if he even came into existence.
Weaver was resolute: if Kyle Reese attempted to retreat from this duty, she would replace him. And it would not do to leave a shattered body behind. Shattered because storage of the biologic materials needed to generate John Connor - not be a problem, except for the survival of the real Kyle Reese. But that removal would only be performed if Kyle Reese attempted to quit.
“John Connor will exist,” Weaver said to herself, “one way or another.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End
Author’s Note: I know you asked for Sarah/Kyle…but I couldn’t find a way of accomplishing that while being true to the prompt you gave. Sorry.