SCC Fic: Fracture
Title: Fracture
Author: aelysian
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 489
Summary: This leaked today. I died, because twistdmentality and I have been waiting for this scene for months and we finally GOT it and getting it = ficcing, apparently. Result. So be aware of some serious SPOILERS.
Fracture
She speaks in absolutes, in statements and facts; she doesn’t question and he wonders if she even knows how.
It’s aggravating, maddening, the blunt words from that high voice that rain down with nauseating thuds because they’re true. They’re true because she always knows because she’s always watching. Always.
“Your friendship with her almost got you killed.”
Maybe it’s supposed to be a cruel reminder, a sharp rebuke that’s supposed to make him realize that what he’s doing is dangerous. But his mother is Sarah Connor and everything he does is dangerous and death is everywhere. He knows it better than he does its daylight counterpart, now. And maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be, right?
He retaliates anyway because she sounds too much like Sarah. It’s double-edged because they were friends, they were friends, weren’t they? Once? Or maybe it’s just your plain ol’ regular blade and he’s falling upon it from sheer stupidity because she’s metal even if it’s hard to remember when she looks at him like that.
“I won’t let that happen again.”
She says it like it’s a promise, like she can stop it. He wonders if she means it.
“I’m not sure that you can control it.”
It. Like it isn’t her and like her isn’t the machine that tried to kill him two months ago. Like it’s something inside of her that made her do it, like it’s a virus, a malicious other that hijacked her body. Like it’s not her fault.
“I’ll design a way.”
It’s defiant and it’s assured and she’s all those things and more when she shifts before him, so sure in her ability to fix it, to make it better. To force it, if necessary, to carve a new path through coltan steel and metal bits. To be better. To be trusted.
“To control it?”
She’s a machine. Upgradable, malleable, subject to the whim of her maker, her reprogrammer, to code. To herself.
He pities and envies her all at once.
She looks at him with eyes that should be dead, should be blank and machine and they are, they are but she’s so much more than any computer, any metal creation yet in existence and it isn’t human and it isn’t Skynet and the only word he can think of is: different.
And then she says it. And then there’s nothing but the blankness in his mind that holds the questions, the confusion, the anger, the you can trust me now because that wasn’t me, that wasn’t me and you can’t let this happen, the everything at bay and it’s not going to last because she’s looking at him like he’s supposed to have answers.
To kill myself.
He loves and hates her in that moment and she’s not the only one that speaks in absolutes, in statements and facts, because when he finds his feet and pushes past her, away, he knows that she knows.
Author: aelysian
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 489
Summary: This leaked today. I died, because twistdmentality and I have been waiting for this scene for months and we finally GOT it and getting it = ficcing, apparently. Result. So be aware of some serious SPOILERS.
Fracture
She speaks in absolutes, in statements and facts; she doesn’t question and he wonders if she even knows how.
It’s aggravating, maddening, the blunt words from that high voice that rain down with nauseating thuds because they’re true. They’re true because she always knows because she’s always watching. Always.
“Your friendship with her almost got you killed.”
Maybe it’s supposed to be a cruel reminder, a sharp rebuke that’s supposed to make him realize that what he’s doing is dangerous. But his mother is Sarah Connor and everything he does is dangerous and death is everywhere. He knows it better than he does its daylight counterpart, now. And maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be, right?
He retaliates anyway because she sounds too much like Sarah. It’s double-edged because they were friends, they were friends, weren’t they? Once? Or maybe it’s just your plain ol’ regular blade and he’s falling upon it from sheer stupidity because she’s metal even if it’s hard to remember when she looks at him like that.
“I won’t let that happen again.”
She says it like it’s a promise, like she can stop it. He wonders if she means it.
“I’m not sure that you can control it.”
It. Like it isn’t her and like her isn’t the machine that tried to kill him two months ago. Like it’s something inside of her that made her do it, like it’s a virus, a malicious other that hijacked her body. Like it’s not her fault.
“I’ll design a way.”
It’s defiant and it’s assured and she’s all those things and more when she shifts before him, so sure in her ability to fix it, to make it better. To force it, if necessary, to carve a new path through coltan steel and metal bits. To be better. To be trusted.
“To control it?”
She’s a machine. Upgradable, malleable, subject to the whim of her maker, her reprogrammer, to code. To herself.
He pities and envies her all at once.
She looks at him with eyes that should be dead, should be blank and machine and they are, they are but she’s so much more than any computer, any metal creation yet in existence and it isn’t human and it isn’t Skynet and the only word he can think of is: different.
And then she says it. And then there’s nothing but the blankness in his mind that holds the questions, the confusion, the anger, the you can trust me now because that wasn’t me, that wasn’t me and you can’t let this happen, the everything at bay and it’s not going to last because she’s looking at him like he’s supposed to have answers.
To kill myself.
He loves and hates her in that moment and she’s not the only one that speaks in absolutes, in statements and facts, because when he finds his feet and pushes past her, away, he knows that she knows.