SCC Fic: 3 A.M. Addendum
Was organizing the disaster that is my folder of unfinished and finished SCC fic when I stumbled upon this. Two alternate endings to 3 A.M. Yay? Anyway. For the sake of completeness, here they are, though I think I still prefer the original ending.
Both pick up after:
“John?” She doesn’t move, doesn’t look back. The protocol is blinking, blinking, blinking. It goes unacknowledged.
His hand is halfway to the pliers; it stills, frozen. “Yeah?”
“I love you.”
He swallows hard. “Yeah, I know.”
A quarter turn and she’s gone.
Alternate Ending 1:
There are no backup systems to monitor her surroundings, no security measures to bridge the gap between extraction and reboot. If there was a reboot. So when a hundred and twenty seconds tick by, there is a two hour gap in her logs. A void. No records. No memories. It doesn’t matter. She knows what happened.
The sun is setting through thin curtains and he’s sitting in the hard backed chair he likes, watching her. Waiting.
She did not expect the insertion.
“Everything,” he says, “is always about John Connor, isn’t it.”
It’s phrased as a question but the intonation of his voice does not support his grammar. She tilts her head. In this, she is certain. “Yes. Everything is about you.”
He touches her briefly before leaving her alone in the little room, before slipping the little pocket watch into her hands. “I know.”
Alternate Ending 2:
There are no backup systems to monitor her surroundings, no security measures to bridge the gap between extraction and reboot. If there was a reboot. So when a hundred and twenty seconds tick by, there is a two hour gap in her logs. A void. No records. No memories. It doesn’t matter. She knows what happened.
The sun is setting through thin curtains and he’s sitting in the hard backed chair he likes, watching her. Waiting.
She knows what he did. She knows the way she knows he didn’t try to break her open, to hack into her secrets, into her mind. The way she knows it was a mistake.
“Deactivation was not necessary.” It wasn’t her decision to make but he is not speaking and it’s the truth anyway.
“You would have tried to stop me.” This is the truth too. There are many truths. “You would have reminded me of all the reasons why I shouldn’t do what I did. You would have asked me not to. And I would have listened to you.”
“You should have listened to me.”
“Yeah. I should have. But you know what? In the future? Your future? My future? I’m going to have a lot of lives in my hands. Lives of people I might never meet or know, people who will count on me to protect them. To lead them. And I don’t need another one. I don’t need to know that I can press a button and kill you.”
He strokes her hair, pressing down on the flap of skin that’s already starting to heal. “I need you to be strong when I can’t be. I need you to be here. And you can’t be here if you’re dead. Do you understand?”
She takes his hand in hers, the unnaturally strong fingers tightening around his. “I understand.”
Both pick up after:
“John?” She doesn’t move, doesn’t look back. The protocol is blinking, blinking, blinking. It goes unacknowledged.
His hand is halfway to the pliers; it stills, frozen. “Yeah?”
“I love you.”
He swallows hard. “Yeah, I know.”
A quarter turn and she’s gone.
Alternate Ending 1:
There are no backup systems to monitor her surroundings, no security measures to bridge the gap between extraction and reboot. If there was a reboot. So when a hundred and twenty seconds tick by, there is a two hour gap in her logs. A void. No records. No memories. It doesn’t matter. She knows what happened.
The sun is setting through thin curtains and he’s sitting in the hard backed chair he likes, watching her. Waiting.
She did not expect the insertion.
“Everything,” he says, “is always about John Connor, isn’t it.”
It’s phrased as a question but the intonation of his voice does not support his grammar. She tilts her head. In this, she is certain. “Yes. Everything is about you.”
He touches her briefly before leaving her alone in the little room, before slipping the little pocket watch into her hands. “I know.”
Alternate Ending 2:
There are no backup systems to monitor her surroundings, no security measures to bridge the gap between extraction and reboot. If there was a reboot. So when a hundred and twenty seconds tick by, there is a two hour gap in her logs. A void. No records. No memories. It doesn’t matter. She knows what happened.
The sun is setting through thin curtains and he’s sitting in the hard backed chair he likes, watching her. Waiting.
She knows what he did. She knows the way she knows he didn’t try to break her open, to hack into her secrets, into her mind. The way she knows it was a mistake.
“Deactivation was not necessary.” It wasn’t her decision to make but he is not speaking and it’s the truth anyway.
“You would have tried to stop me.” This is the truth too. There are many truths. “You would have reminded me of all the reasons why I shouldn’t do what I did. You would have asked me not to. And I would have listened to you.”
“You should have listened to me.”
“Yeah. I should have. But you know what? In the future? Your future? My future? I’m going to have a lot of lives in my hands. Lives of people I might never meet or know, people who will count on me to protect them. To lead them. And I don’t need another one. I don’t need to know that I can press a button and kill you.”
He strokes her hair, pressing down on the flap of skin that’s already starting to heal. “I need you to be strong when I can’t be. I need you to be here. And you can’t be here if you’re dead. Do you understand?”
She takes his hand in hers, the unnaturally strong fingers tightening around his. “I understand.”