Marcus was wandering. His shirt and pants were clean, feet stomped into the usual heavy boots, but the jacket he'd found in his room was beat up and well worn. A red band went around one arm. He needed his hand fixed, badly, but wasn't quite sure where to go. The clinic was out, as far as he knew, and it wasn't like he could stroll into a radio shack and ask for a replacement.
He hadn't really been looking, though, when he found McKay's. It was just an electronic repair shop, but it was probably the closest he would get. The question was, now, could he trust anyone working here not to lose their shit if they knew what he was?
"Hey," he said to the kid sitting inside, speaking from his place in the open doorway, "you open?"
"Turn it over? Pull up your sleeve and make a fist for me." John pulled out a pair of pliers. "Not well, huh? How do we meet?" Depending on a number of factors, of course. Timeline, changes, etc, etc. Derek's timeline? Kate's? One day he'd make a flow chart.
A slow, cynical smirk twisted his lips. Marcus took his time pulling his sleeve up, shrugging the jacket off first so he could slide the cotton of his long-sleeve shirt up his arm. The ragged flesh at the edge of his wrist was messy, burnt. He turned the hand and curled the fingers up.
"You chained me up and hung me in a pit," he said, watching his hand, "don't blame you, really, considering I have a metal skeleton." Marcus rolled his eyes up to watch the kid's face.
"I ... did?" Do? Whatever. Tenses are screwed talking to people in his future. "You were an infiltrator?" It was, after all, his experience. Uncle Bob, Cameron. T-800s. Though he'd just learned about T-600s. And of course, the ever-popular T-1000. A Terminator for every occasion!
Marcus's skin looked different, though and he poked at it with the end of his screwdriver.
Marcus nodded slowly, watching the surprise cross his face in quick succession. "Cyberdine started me, Skynet improved. I was sent to lure you to Skynet HQ, but they weren't as successful as they'd hoped."
"I guess," he said uneasily, but he did as Connor asked, still watching his face. There was a fascination there, and he'd seen it before. John had looked him in the eye as Marcus had protested their accusations and there had been true curiosity there.
"Yeah. Burned the flesh away..." he leaned forward to look down, "no. Can't feel that." Not really. He could feel the pressure of it, but there was no real sensation.
"How'd you get burned?" John asked as he scraped, then wiped away the corrosion on the metal. Marcus's hand was very similar to Cameron's. Some things didn't change.
Christ, he didn't want to talk about this. "I'd gone in to save Kyle Reese. You followed after I sent you the coordinates. You found him, but couldn't get away from a terminator that had been waiting for you, a new one. I was trying to stop it."
He hadn't really been looking, though, when he found McKay's. It was just an electronic repair shop, but it was probably the closest he would get. The question was, now, could he trust anyone working here not to lose their shit if they knew what he was?
"Hey," he said to the kid sitting inside, speaking from his place in the open doorway, "you open?"
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"You chained me up and hung me in a pit," he said, watching his hand, "don't blame you, really, considering I have a metal skeleton." Marcus rolled his eyes up to watch the kid's face.
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Marcus's skin looked different, though and he poked at it with the end of his screwdriver.
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Okay, now John was surprised. He gawped. "You have a human heart and brain?! And a coltan skeleton?!"
Holy Crap.
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John bent down again, looking more closely at his arm. Human skin. Metal skeleton. Wow. "Flex your hand again."
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