Losing Your Own Reflection (PG-13) - Terminator Salvation
Title: Losing Your Own Reflection
Author: Tommygirl
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Terminator Salvation
Pairing: Kate/John
Written For: medie for yuletide 2009
Notes: So I have to thank medie for all the cool ideas in her dear yuletide person letter. It was hard to choose what to write with all the ideas, but I couldn't resist the pull of Kate and Kate's relationship with her husband. I hope it lived up to everything she wanted. And I also have to thank Jen, Lara, and Steph for the amazing beta work on this story. They all brought different perspectives and great advice.
Crossposted: Yuletide Collection at Archive of Our Own & moviefanfiction
Losing Your Own Reflection
She's in a long, dimly-lit hallway. It looks like part of an abandoned hospital; she can almost visualize the gurneys against each wall, smell the overpowering stench of antiseptic, and hear the snap of the buzzing lights. Kate squints down the hall, a shadowy figure lingers at the other end, and her gut twists. As she moves closer to get a better look, she becomes aware that she has no weapon.
She's terrified, and it takes a lot these days to rattle her, but something is horribly wrong. She is never without a weapon. It was one of the first discussions she and John ever had, one of the first promises they made to one another - never be caught without a weapon, never be vulnerable to a surprise attack. She wants to shout out to whoever is down there, but the fact that it could be a whatever keeps her quiet. She has no protection, nothing to hide behind, a doorless hallway that leads to something she can't quite see.
As she approaches, her eyes widen and she feels her knees buckle, a scream catching in her throat. The shadow has become clear and the man turns toward her. It looks like John, but it's not her John, not the weary-but-confident fool she loves more than she ever thought possible. It's a machine with John's face and it makes a twisted grimace that it probably takes for a smile in her direction.
Years of training tell her to run, but she can't. She needs to know what happened to John, how this thing became her husband. John would be furious with her, but she has to understand this. She needs some way to process what's standing in front of her, because she can't imagine a world without John by her side.
"Hello Kate," it says, with another grotesque attempt at a smile on its face. It's a pretty good copy, she momentarily thinks, might even fool some of John's own officers, but not her. There is not a mark on John's body that she hasn't memorized over time, kept locked away for the inevitable day when she loses him, and this impostor shows neither the physical or emotional burdens he carries.
She curls her hands into fists at her sides. "Where is he?"
"We both know how this goes."
"Where is he?" she repeats.
"Everywhere...nowhere...we've chased him through time and back, and we always end up here."
She looks around. It's like Skynet downloaded every B-rated horror movie in existence and trapped her there. The hallway behind her seems even longer than when she walked it seconds ago and creeping in around it at every angle is the deep-seated knowledge that there is nowhere she can go to get away. She's trapped.
Maybe this is how it ends and a part of her is relieved. She doesn't want to be without John, she doesn't want the responsibility of the Resistance on her shoulders, she never did. Hasn't she sacrificed enough? When is it okay to throw in the towel and find some peace?
But John's voice - her husband's voice, not this fake-son-of-a-bitch in front of her - seeps into her every thought and she knows that she can't roll over and die. It goes against everything the two of them were together. And she promised him, so many times, so many shushed "okay, I will, but don't think like that" conversations in those too few moments they had alone together. She's supposed to live. She's supposed to keep going because she would demand the same of him if the roles were reversed. She's supposed to pick up where he left off and finish it once and for all.
"You understand now," it says.
She's not quite sure she does, but she long ago gave up trying to make sense of anything these machines did. There is no purpose to their malevolence, it simply is. She sighs. "Let's get this over with."
It shrugs and says, "This is just the beginning."
She expects a blow to come, braces herself for pain, shutting her eyes and trying to think a plausible exit strategy. But nothing happens. And when she opens her eyes, the machine is gone.
***
Kate woke up with a start. It was the same dream she had been having for months now and it ended as abruptly each time, the machine gone before he could kill her. She was known for being smart and logical, but she felt nothing but confusion when she contemplated the dream for too long. In fact, the only thing it managed to do was to scare the hell out of her more and more. She had long ago braced herself for the fact that John wouldn't come home after one mission or another. She would tell herself that nothing was written in stone, that his death was only one possible outcome, but after this last mission, it became harder to convince herself.
She groaned at the awkwardness of the chair, and silently cursing herself for insisting on taking the chair. Sometimes her need to be strong really pissed her off. She wanted to collapse and cry and complain about how unfair all of this was. She wanted to be able to be a normal wife at her husband's bedside, not Kate Connor, leader and wife of John Connor, the world's only hope. Why did they have to be responsible for so much? Why wasn't there some version of the future out there where they weren't the target of Skynet? Why did it seem like she was going to have to be the one to sacrifice everything?
Kate stretched out, rubbing her belly, and leaned in closer to the bed. She watched John sleep and resisted the urge to trace her fingers over his face. He was there. He was alive, barely, but he would live to fight another day. Good thing too because as soon as he was fully recovered from the transplant and her moods had shifted from relief to fury, she was going to murder him for his latest stunt. Considering how tactically smart the man was, he was a complete idiot when it came to their life together. He was so convinced in her strength, so singularly-focused on protecting her and everyone else, that he never bothered to think about what would happen if he was gone.
Kate had tried on more than one occasion to make him understand. He always responded the same way, with a smile and a gentle touch to her cheek, saying, "I wouldn't be the man you loved if I didn't do this."
How could she argue with that? And how could she make him see that strength-be-damned, she didn't want to lose him?
She would give everything in her to keep him alive. She would protect him because he was too busy protecting everyone else. She would continue to be his support and home, but she was not going to tolerate this lunatic, self-sacrificing crap any more. Destiny be damned. There had to be easier ways of saving the world than watching her husband bleed out in front of her.
Kate glanced around the tent that passed for a hospital bay within the makeshift camp that had been set up after fleeing the remains of Skynet. The eerie silence of the camp was a bit unnerving. She couldn't remember a time it had ever been so quiet; there was always someone preparing the weapons, tinkering with the machines and safety guards in place to protect them, or cracking a lame joke to try to make things seem normal.
Like such a thing was possible.
She laughed quietly to herself as she shifted in her seat. Her father used to put her to bed every night and tell her, "One day you're going to do extraordinary things, Katie." She couldn't help but wonder sometimes if her life really was so preordained. That despite the fact that she would tell John and herself over and over again that she chose to be by his side, to belong to him, maybe she never had a choice in the matter. Maybe no matter how things unraveled, she and John were always meant to play out their parts just like this. Him, the martyr, and her, the one left behind to pick up the pieces.
"Stop thinking so hard," John said, his familiar voice hoarse, and pulled her out of her thoughts.
She instantly smiled and leaned in closer to him. "Hey, you. You're awake."
"Is that what we're calling it?" he replied, trying to clear his throat.
"Take it easy," she ordered. She inched even closer, as close as she could get without climbing into the bed with him, and looked him over. She asked, "How are you feeling?" He forced a tired smile and before he could reply, she pressed her fingers over his lips and said, "And I'm not in the mood for one of your terrible jokes, John."
He reached for her hand and gasped out in pain. She shook her head and took his hand in hers, saying, "You just had a heart transplant. You need to stay still and rest."
"We need to get out of here. We only…"
Again, she pressed her fingers over his lips. "It's taken care of. We're safe for now and you need to focus on healing. You're of no use to anyone if you're dead."
He must have noticed her wince as the words came out because he squeezed her hand, probably all the strength he had at the moment going into the gesture, and said, "I'm here."
"Barely."
"I'll be okay."
"You almost weren't," she snapped. She used her free hand to rub the weariness out of her eyes before placing it on his chest. "I almost lost you today."
"It had to be done."
"If you say so."
"Kate…"
She sighed. "You're weak. Thanks to Marcus' strong heart and your sheer stubbornness, it looks like the transplant took, but you still need your rest."
"So do you," he said. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. He said, "You and the baby."
"I'm fine," she lied, however useless it was. John saw through her as easily as she did with him. She took a deep breath and said, "Maybe a little tired."
"I'm sorry."
"We'll talk about it later. I'm just glad it all worked out," Kate said. She traced her fingers along his skin, careful to avoid the stitches and bandages. She couldn't seem to stop touching him.
"He's okay?"
"Kyle is fine. I didn't tell him anything, figured that call was yours to make."
"I want him kept out of harm's way until I'm up and around," John said. Despite the weakness, his voice still managed an air of authority when he spoke of operations. She loved and hated him for that.
"Okay."
He kissed her hand again. "I promised you I'd be back."
"You need to rest."
"I thought for sure you were going to yell at me."
"Like I said, we'll talk about it later." She smiled and added, "Besides, there will be plenty of time for that once you're better."
He coughed and she instinctively began checking him over. What if she had missed something? What if he wasn't out of the woods yet like she had thought?"
As if reading her mind, he said, "I'm okay."
"You're a terrible liar, John Connor. You're exhausted and in pain, which makes sense since you were basically skewered by a machine. You're anything but okay."
"I always thought I was pretty good at deception."
"Not with me," she said. She brushed her lips against his and whispered, "Never with me."
"I really am okay, Kate. You don't need to worry."
"You don't get it. I always worry. It's part of my job as the wife of a self-sacrificing lunatic."
"Not tonight. Go rest. I'll be fine here."
She rolled her eyes. "I never know with you."
"You always know, Kate."
She really did want to punch him in that moment. He had put her through the ringer and now he was trying to be sweet? Only John Connor would try and pull that crap. Instead of going with her rage, she rolled her eyes again. "I do always know you, John. And that's part of the problem, isn't it?"
His eyes were already closing again and she forced the anger away. They would deal with that later, she would make sure of it, but right then, it didn't matter. She kissed his forehead and said, "But that's a discussion for another day."
"Love you."
"I love you too. Now get some rest." She brushed the back of her hand against his cheek as he fell back into unconsciousness. She stood up. The muscles in her lower back tightened and her feet ached with pressure, and she again cursed herself for sleeping in that chair. As if in agreement, the baby kicked for good measure.
She rubbed her belly and looked up to see Barnes standing in front of her. He said, "Want me to take you to your quarters?"
"How are the kids?"
"Fine. Per your request, they were given separate quarters from the other prisoners we rescued. Still not sure what's so special about this Reese kid that the commander was willing to team up with a machine."
"You don't need to understand it," Kate replied sternly. She crossed her arms and added, "And need I remind you that if it weren't for that machine, John would be dead."
"It doesn't change what it was."
"I think it does."
"Is that our great hope? After everything, we pray that there are more machines out there like Marcus?"
Kate was too tried to deal with Barnes. He was loyal and strong and great in a fight, but conversations with him required patience she didn't possess at the moment. "I have no idea, Barnes. What I do know is that Marcus allowed John to get all of those prisoners to safety and then he gave his own life, whatever it was, to save my husband. Blair was right - he wasn't a machine, at least not like the kind we were used to."
"Fair enough."
"Stay with him. I know it's stupid, but-"
"-it's covered. Do you need someone to help you to your room?"
"I'll find it."
"Next tent over. Ask one of the guards if you need to."
Kate nodded and started to walk. She turned around quickly and added, "Barnes, outside of you and Blair, no one is to know that the main objective for John was to rescue Kyle Reese. Do you understand?"
"Understood."
"Including Reese."
"I don't disobey my commander's orders."
She nodded and said, "I'm sorry. I know that you're loyal to my husband, Barnes, and I appreciate it."
"I'm talking about you," Barnes replied. Off the blank look on her face, he continued, "He always told me that I didn't give you enough credit, nearly kicked my ass a few times for it too, but like everything else so far, John was right."
Kate wasn't sure how to react. She knew that this was an important step, that as much as she could hope and fight for it not to happen, if John died, she was the one who would have to finish the job. And hadn't she been fighting with John about this for months? That the fighters needed to see her as a leader…but now that she was there, goal accomplished, she couldn't wrap her head around it. She was exhausted and scared and not ready for this burden. She said, "Oh."
Barnes said, "You're the one who got us set up here, who reached out to the remainder of the Resistance on radio to let them know what happened and not to lose hope. You're the one who saved John."
"That was hardly an unselfish act on my part."
"True, but with John down for the count right now, the Resistance needs you."
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes to steady herself. "Thank you, Barnes. Don't let him do anything stupid for a few hours so I can get a little bit of sleep."
"It's taken care of, boss."
She nodded and walked out of the medical area before she changed her mind. They had come through so much in the past few days and she was even more confused about the enemy than she ever had been. Somehow, she was supposed to lead until John was well enough to command again. And somehow she had to find a way not to think too much about when the time might come that her leadership would be permanent.
***
It shrugs and says, "This is just the beginning."
She expects a blow to come, braces herself for pain, shutting her eyes and trying to think of a plausible exit strategy. But nothing happens. And when she opens her eyes, the machine is gone.
Kate is no longer in a hospital, but in a tent, surrounded by soldiers. She's there, but not really. Arms slip around her from behind, as she watches herself barking out orders and going over papers on a table. She instinctively leans back into those arms and the voice, this time her John, says, "I always knew you could do it, Kate. It was your fate as much as mine."
She's not sure how she feels about that, but the terror is gone. "I know."
{Fin}
Author: Tommygirl
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Terminator Salvation
Pairing: Kate/John
Written For: medie for yuletide 2009
Notes: So I have to thank medie for all the cool ideas in her dear yuletide person letter. It was hard to choose what to write with all the ideas, but I couldn't resist the pull of Kate and Kate's relationship with her husband. I hope it lived up to everything she wanted. And I also have to thank Jen, Lara, and Steph for the amazing beta work on this story. They all brought different perspectives and great advice.
Crossposted: Yuletide Collection at Archive of Our Own & moviefanfiction
Losing Your Own Reflection
She's in a long, dimly-lit hallway. It looks like part of an abandoned hospital; she can almost visualize the gurneys against each wall, smell the overpowering stench of antiseptic, and hear the snap of the buzzing lights. Kate squints down the hall, a shadowy figure lingers at the other end, and her gut twists. As she moves closer to get a better look, she becomes aware that she has no weapon.
She's terrified, and it takes a lot these days to rattle her, but something is horribly wrong. She is never without a weapon. It was one of the first discussions she and John ever had, one of the first promises they made to one another - never be caught without a weapon, never be vulnerable to a surprise attack. She wants to shout out to whoever is down there, but the fact that it could be a whatever keeps her quiet. She has no protection, nothing to hide behind, a doorless hallway that leads to something she can't quite see.
As she approaches, her eyes widen and she feels her knees buckle, a scream catching in her throat. The shadow has become clear and the man turns toward her. It looks like John, but it's not her John, not the weary-but-confident fool she loves more than she ever thought possible. It's a machine with John's face and it makes a twisted grimace that it probably takes for a smile in her direction.
Years of training tell her to run, but she can't. She needs to know what happened to John, how this thing became her husband. John would be furious with her, but she has to understand this. She needs some way to process what's standing in front of her, because she can't imagine a world without John by her side.
"Hello Kate," it says, with another grotesque attempt at a smile on its face. It's a pretty good copy, she momentarily thinks, might even fool some of John's own officers, but not her. There is not a mark on John's body that she hasn't memorized over time, kept locked away for the inevitable day when she loses him, and this impostor shows neither the physical or emotional burdens he carries.
She curls her hands into fists at her sides. "Where is he?"
"We both know how this goes."
"Where is he?" she repeats.
"Everywhere...nowhere...we've chased him through time and back, and we always end up here."
She looks around. It's like Skynet downloaded every B-rated horror movie in existence and trapped her there. The hallway behind her seems even longer than when she walked it seconds ago and creeping in around it at every angle is the deep-seated knowledge that there is nowhere she can go to get away. She's trapped.
Maybe this is how it ends and a part of her is relieved. She doesn't want to be without John, she doesn't want the responsibility of the Resistance on her shoulders, she never did. Hasn't she sacrificed enough? When is it okay to throw in the towel and find some peace?
But John's voice - her husband's voice, not this fake-son-of-a-bitch in front of her - seeps into her every thought and she knows that she can't roll over and die. It goes against everything the two of them were together. And she promised him, so many times, so many shushed "okay, I will, but don't think like that" conversations in those too few moments they had alone together. She's supposed to live. She's supposed to keep going because she would demand the same of him if the roles were reversed. She's supposed to pick up where he left off and finish it once and for all.
"You understand now," it says.
She's not quite sure she does, but she long ago gave up trying to make sense of anything these machines did. There is no purpose to their malevolence, it simply is. She sighs. "Let's get this over with."
It shrugs and says, "This is just the beginning."
She expects a blow to come, braces herself for pain, shutting her eyes and trying to think a plausible exit strategy. But nothing happens. And when she opens her eyes, the machine is gone.
***
Kate woke up with a start. It was the same dream she had been having for months now and it ended as abruptly each time, the machine gone before he could kill her. She was known for being smart and logical, but she felt nothing but confusion when she contemplated the dream for too long. In fact, the only thing it managed to do was to scare the hell out of her more and more. She had long ago braced herself for the fact that John wouldn't come home after one mission or another. She would tell herself that nothing was written in stone, that his death was only one possible outcome, but after this last mission, it became harder to convince herself.
She groaned at the awkwardness of the chair, and silently cursing herself for insisting on taking the chair. Sometimes her need to be strong really pissed her off. She wanted to collapse and cry and complain about how unfair all of this was. She wanted to be able to be a normal wife at her husband's bedside, not Kate Connor, leader and wife of John Connor, the world's only hope. Why did they have to be responsible for so much? Why wasn't there some version of the future out there where they weren't the target of Skynet? Why did it seem like she was going to have to be the one to sacrifice everything?
Kate stretched out, rubbing her belly, and leaned in closer to the bed. She watched John sleep and resisted the urge to trace her fingers over his face. He was there. He was alive, barely, but he would live to fight another day. Good thing too because as soon as he was fully recovered from the transplant and her moods had shifted from relief to fury, she was going to murder him for his latest stunt. Considering how tactically smart the man was, he was a complete idiot when it came to their life together. He was so convinced in her strength, so singularly-focused on protecting her and everyone else, that he never bothered to think about what would happen if he was gone.
Kate had tried on more than one occasion to make him understand. He always responded the same way, with a smile and a gentle touch to her cheek, saying, "I wouldn't be the man you loved if I didn't do this."
How could she argue with that? And how could she make him see that strength-be-damned, she didn't want to lose him?
She would give everything in her to keep him alive. She would protect him because he was too busy protecting everyone else. She would continue to be his support and home, but she was not going to tolerate this lunatic, self-sacrificing crap any more. Destiny be damned. There had to be easier ways of saving the world than watching her husband bleed out in front of her.
Kate glanced around the tent that passed for a hospital bay within the makeshift camp that had been set up after fleeing the remains of Skynet. The eerie silence of the camp was a bit unnerving. She couldn't remember a time it had ever been so quiet; there was always someone preparing the weapons, tinkering with the machines and safety guards in place to protect them, or cracking a lame joke to try to make things seem normal.
Like such a thing was possible.
She laughed quietly to herself as she shifted in her seat. Her father used to put her to bed every night and tell her, "One day you're going to do extraordinary things, Katie." She couldn't help but wonder sometimes if her life really was so preordained. That despite the fact that she would tell John and herself over and over again that she chose to be by his side, to belong to him, maybe she never had a choice in the matter. Maybe no matter how things unraveled, she and John were always meant to play out their parts just like this. Him, the martyr, and her, the one left behind to pick up the pieces.
"Stop thinking so hard," John said, his familiar voice hoarse, and pulled her out of her thoughts.
She instantly smiled and leaned in closer to him. "Hey, you. You're awake."
"Is that what we're calling it?" he replied, trying to clear his throat.
"Take it easy," she ordered. She inched even closer, as close as she could get without climbing into the bed with him, and looked him over. She asked, "How are you feeling?" He forced a tired smile and before he could reply, she pressed her fingers over his lips and said, "And I'm not in the mood for one of your terrible jokes, John."
He reached for her hand and gasped out in pain. She shook her head and took his hand in hers, saying, "You just had a heart transplant. You need to stay still and rest."
"We need to get out of here. We only…"
Again, she pressed her fingers over his lips. "It's taken care of. We're safe for now and you need to focus on healing. You're of no use to anyone if you're dead."
He must have noticed her wince as the words came out because he squeezed her hand, probably all the strength he had at the moment going into the gesture, and said, "I'm here."
"Barely."
"I'll be okay."
"You almost weren't," she snapped. She used her free hand to rub the weariness out of her eyes before placing it on his chest. "I almost lost you today."
"It had to be done."
"If you say so."
"Kate…"
She sighed. "You're weak. Thanks to Marcus' strong heart and your sheer stubbornness, it looks like the transplant took, but you still need your rest."
"So do you," he said. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. He said, "You and the baby."
"I'm fine," she lied, however useless it was. John saw through her as easily as she did with him. She took a deep breath and said, "Maybe a little tired."
"I'm sorry."
"We'll talk about it later. I'm just glad it all worked out," Kate said. She traced her fingers along his skin, careful to avoid the stitches and bandages. She couldn't seem to stop touching him.
"He's okay?"
"Kyle is fine. I didn't tell him anything, figured that call was yours to make."
"I want him kept out of harm's way until I'm up and around," John said. Despite the weakness, his voice still managed an air of authority when he spoke of operations. She loved and hated him for that.
"Okay."
He kissed her hand again. "I promised you I'd be back."
"You need to rest."
"I thought for sure you were going to yell at me."
"Like I said, we'll talk about it later." She smiled and added, "Besides, there will be plenty of time for that once you're better."
He coughed and she instinctively began checking him over. What if she had missed something? What if he wasn't out of the woods yet like she had thought?"
As if reading her mind, he said, "I'm okay."
"You're a terrible liar, John Connor. You're exhausted and in pain, which makes sense since you were basically skewered by a machine. You're anything but okay."
"I always thought I was pretty good at deception."
"Not with me," she said. She brushed her lips against his and whispered, "Never with me."
"I really am okay, Kate. You don't need to worry."
"You don't get it. I always worry. It's part of my job as the wife of a self-sacrificing lunatic."
"Not tonight. Go rest. I'll be fine here."
She rolled her eyes. "I never know with you."
"You always know, Kate."
She really did want to punch him in that moment. He had put her through the ringer and now he was trying to be sweet? Only John Connor would try and pull that crap. Instead of going with her rage, she rolled her eyes again. "I do always know you, John. And that's part of the problem, isn't it?"
His eyes were already closing again and she forced the anger away. They would deal with that later, she would make sure of it, but right then, it didn't matter. She kissed his forehead and said, "But that's a discussion for another day."
"Love you."
"I love you too. Now get some rest." She brushed the back of her hand against his cheek as he fell back into unconsciousness. She stood up. The muscles in her lower back tightened and her feet ached with pressure, and she again cursed herself for sleeping in that chair. As if in agreement, the baby kicked for good measure.
She rubbed her belly and looked up to see Barnes standing in front of her. He said, "Want me to take you to your quarters?"
"How are the kids?"
"Fine. Per your request, they were given separate quarters from the other prisoners we rescued. Still not sure what's so special about this Reese kid that the commander was willing to team up with a machine."
"You don't need to understand it," Kate replied sternly. She crossed her arms and added, "And need I remind you that if it weren't for that machine, John would be dead."
"It doesn't change what it was."
"I think it does."
"Is that our great hope? After everything, we pray that there are more machines out there like Marcus?"
Kate was too tried to deal with Barnes. He was loyal and strong and great in a fight, but conversations with him required patience she didn't possess at the moment. "I have no idea, Barnes. What I do know is that Marcus allowed John to get all of those prisoners to safety and then he gave his own life, whatever it was, to save my husband. Blair was right - he wasn't a machine, at least not like the kind we were used to."
"Fair enough."
"Stay with him. I know it's stupid, but-"
"-it's covered. Do you need someone to help you to your room?"
"I'll find it."
"Next tent over. Ask one of the guards if you need to."
Kate nodded and started to walk. She turned around quickly and added, "Barnes, outside of you and Blair, no one is to know that the main objective for John was to rescue Kyle Reese. Do you understand?"
"Understood."
"Including Reese."
"I don't disobey my commander's orders."
She nodded and said, "I'm sorry. I know that you're loyal to my husband, Barnes, and I appreciate it."
"I'm talking about you," Barnes replied. Off the blank look on her face, he continued, "He always told me that I didn't give you enough credit, nearly kicked my ass a few times for it too, but like everything else so far, John was right."
Kate wasn't sure how to react. She knew that this was an important step, that as much as she could hope and fight for it not to happen, if John died, she was the one who would have to finish the job. And hadn't she been fighting with John about this for months? That the fighters needed to see her as a leader…but now that she was there, goal accomplished, she couldn't wrap her head around it. She was exhausted and scared and not ready for this burden. She said, "Oh."
Barnes said, "You're the one who got us set up here, who reached out to the remainder of the Resistance on radio to let them know what happened and not to lose hope. You're the one who saved John."
"That was hardly an unselfish act on my part."
"True, but with John down for the count right now, the Resistance needs you."
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes to steady herself. "Thank you, Barnes. Don't let him do anything stupid for a few hours so I can get a little bit of sleep."
"It's taken care of, boss."
She nodded and walked out of the medical area before she changed her mind. They had come through so much in the past few days and she was even more confused about the enemy than she ever had been. Somehow, she was supposed to lead until John was well enough to command again. And somehow she had to find a way not to think too much about when the time might come that her leadership would be permanent.
***
It shrugs and says, "This is just the beginning."
She expects a blow to come, braces herself for pain, shutting her eyes and trying to think of a plausible exit strategy. But nothing happens. And when she opens her eyes, the machine is gone.
Kate is no longer in a hospital, but in a tent, surrounded by soldiers. She's there, but not really. Arms slip around her from behind, as she watches herself barking out orders and going over papers on a table. She instinctively leans back into those arms and the voice, this time her John, says, "I always knew you could do it, Kate. It was your fate as much as mine."
She's not sure how she feels about that, but the terror is gone. "I know."
{Fin}