FIC: "The Second Fiddle" [TSCC; Sarah/Cameron]
Title: The Second Fiddle
Fandom: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Pairing: Sarah/Cameron
Genre: AU
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 1240
Summary: Cameron‘s always been second when it comes to John.
**
“Come with me if you want to live.”
The Terminator’s words ring hollow in Cameron’s brain. She takes another long sip from the bottle of vodka she’s stolen, wincing as the alcohol burns the back of her throat. She stumbles a bit, leaning on a headstone to regain her balance. Cameron’s not as quiet or as cautious as she should be, as she’s been trained to be.
Tonight, Cameron doesn’t care.
It’s been sixteen years since her mother died. Cameron can barely remember her face. There are images but Cameron can’t distinguish between memory or the faded and battle-worn photographs she clings to.
She finds the grave marker - no money for a headstone - a stone rectangle embedded in the earth. ‘Kaylen Reese - Beloved Mother’ etched on the surface.
Cameron sits on her knees, kneeling before her mother’s grave. She thinks about crying then hears her father’s words - Soldier’s have no time for tears - and the impulse is squelched immediately. There’s a sniffle, because even though Soldier’s have no time for tears, Cameron’s seen her father cry, she’s seen John cry. She knows all Soldier’s have their breaking point, learned it the hard way. Cameron wipes her nose with the back of a hand and swallows back the tears.
She takes another long swig from her bottle and thinks about talking to the dead. But her words fail in the back of her throat because, at this point, what’s left to say? They’re still running, still hiding, still fighting a war no one knows about.
And Cameron’s still second-best. She’s still the ‘sister of John Reese’, a footnote in history books that have yet to be written.
‘Save John’. ‘Help John’. ‘Protect John’. John. John. John. John.
Kaylen had been sent from the future, Cameron eventually learned, a story repeated so many times by her father she can recite it by heart. The beginning of the legend of John Connor. Only Kaylen had been sent too far back, with nothing but a name and an old photograph. She and Derek Reese fell in love, married and had a child, Cameron. Four years later, Kaylen was pregnant again with John. And then the Terminator came..
And Cameron’s world fell apart. No more princesses, or tea parties, or ballerina’s dancing on Daddy’s shoes. It was guns and guerillas, safe houses and slums. And everything in the world revolving around John.
Maybe it would have been better if her mother have lived. Maybe it wouldn’t have. All Cameron can think is maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone.
There are footsteps in the distance, getting closer. Cameron can hear the heavy cadence, instantly recognizing the steps of the Terminator. She waits until the machine is standing behind her, imagines the blank expression on the woman’s face.
“Why are you following me?” Cameron slurs. “Shouldn’t you be protecting John? Isn‘t he all that matters?”
There’s a pause Cameron’s come to recognize as the Terminator choosing her words. “You’re intoxicated.”
Cameron snorts, taking another drink. “No. I’m drunk. There’s a difference.” Sarah says nothing. She steps closer, standing next to Cameron. “Shouldn’t you be protecting John?”
“No,” Sarah answers.
“Why not?”
“Because you didn’t send me back for John.”
Cameron freezes, like she’s unsure of what she’s just heard. “What?”
“I said you didn’t send me back for John,” Sarah kneels down close to Cameron.
“Who did I send you back for?”
“You,” Sarah answers. “’She pretends to be strong’ you said, ‘but she’s incredibly fragile’,” Sarah reaches out with a hand, cupping Cameron’s face. “’Don’t let her break’.”
“You know me?”
“Yes. Everyone knows Cameron and John Connor. It was you who sent back Kaylen. It was you who sent back me.”
“No, I mean you know me.”
There’s another pause and Cameron can see Sarah thinking. Terminator’s are nothing but machines, robots, computers covered in flesh. But Sarah’s.. different. In Sarah, John had found a surrogate mother. For Derek, he couldn’t see beyond his own hatred, seeing Sarah as a symbol of his own failings as a father and a husband.
Cameron found neither surrogate nor enemy. Instead, she found temptation. An ache to fill the hollowness in her soul, an image to relieve the tension during sleepless nights. A temptation for something ’wrong’. Cameron can feel it in her bones, in the heart that’s skipped several beats, the vice squeezing her lungs and making it hard to breathe.
Sarah pulls her hand away, rising to her feet. “We should go. It’s not safe here.”
With that, she turns and walks away. Something left unspoken hovers in the air. Cameron’s up on her feet, bottle forgotten on the ground by her mother’s grave. Adrenaline courses through her veins, cutting through the dull edge of inebriety.
“What am I to you?” Cameron’s calling out to Sarah, quickening her steps because Sarah’s going faster now. Fast like a machine. Fast like a human.
She catches up to Sarah, hand grabbing her arm and jerking her around. “What am I to you? What are you to me!?!”
“You’re Cameron Reese.”
Machines don’t lie, except when they do. Cameron had never been interested in theoretical arguments as to whether the machines could be human. All she knew was Sarah meant more to her than she did to either John or Derek. Sarah was Cameron’s. More than a dream, more than an ache in her chest or a burn between her legs. Something real, something tangible, something she could hold. Something that could hold her.
“Please, Sarah,” Cameron’s lip is trembling, like a raft hovering over the edge of the waterfall, caught in rapids she couldn’t control. “Tell me.”
“I miss..” Sarah pauses, almost stammering. “I miss touching you.”
Cameron leans in, feels Sarah‘s warm breath against her face. “You can touch me, Sarah.”
Sarah reaches out, cupping Cameron’s face, thumb grazing over Cameron’s lips. Cameron tilts her head into the touch, melting, letting go and she falls over the edge. A thumb becomes Sarah’s lips, warm and soft, like no kiss Cameron’s ever felt before. She’s hungry now, pulling Sarah until Cameron’s backed against a tree, fumbling, groping, pulling Sarah’s hand until Cameron has her where she wants Sarah to be.
She cries out as strong fingers slide inside her. Sarah’s not supposed to let Cameron break but break she does. Cameron breaks into a thousand pieces, a thousand pieces of pain, hurt, and anger crumbles away leaving nothing but the raw, aching nerve desperate to be loved. Aching to be first, even if it is with a machine.
The bottle of emotions, tightly corked for so many years, bursts open and Cameron cries as she comes. She clings to Sarah, the Terminator soft and gentle, holding Cameron tightly.
“We should go,” Sarah whispers softly, breaking the quiet solitude.
“Just..” Cameron buries her face deeper into Sarah’s neck. “Hold me a little more.”
“I can hold you forever if you want.”
Cameron pulls her head up, gazing into green eyes. “Would you?”
“Yes.”
Cameron presses their lips together. The kiss is passionate and leisurely, as if they have all the time in the world. When she comes up for air, Cameron presses her face into Sarah’s shoulder. Feels Sarah arms around her, warm and strong. For the first time in a very long time, Cameron feels safe.
For the first time in a very long time, Cameron doesn’t feel like a second fiddle.
END
x-posted to passion_perfect, sarahcameron
Fandom: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Pairing: Sarah/Cameron
Genre: AU
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 1240
Summary: Cameron‘s always been second when it comes to John.
**
“Come with me if you want to live.”
The Terminator’s words ring hollow in Cameron’s brain. She takes another long sip from the bottle of vodka she’s stolen, wincing as the alcohol burns the back of her throat. She stumbles a bit, leaning on a headstone to regain her balance. Cameron’s not as quiet or as cautious as she should be, as she’s been trained to be.
Tonight, Cameron doesn’t care.
It’s been sixteen years since her mother died. Cameron can barely remember her face. There are images but Cameron can’t distinguish between memory or the faded and battle-worn photographs she clings to.
She finds the grave marker - no money for a headstone - a stone rectangle embedded in the earth. ‘Kaylen Reese - Beloved Mother’ etched on the surface.
Cameron sits on her knees, kneeling before her mother’s grave. She thinks about crying then hears her father’s words - Soldier’s have no time for tears - and the impulse is squelched immediately. There’s a sniffle, because even though Soldier’s have no time for tears, Cameron’s seen her father cry, she’s seen John cry. She knows all Soldier’s have their breaking point, learned it the hard way. Cameron wipes her nose with the back of a hand and swallows back the tears.
She takes another long swig from her bottle and thinks about talking to the dead. But her words fail in the back of her throat because, at this point, what’s left to say? They’re still running, still hiding, still fighting a war no one knows about.
And Cameron’s still second-best. She’s still the ‘sister of John Reese’, a footnote in history books that have yet to be written.
‘Save John’. ‘Help John’. ‘Protect John’. John. John. John. John.
Kaylen had been sent from the future, Cameron eventually learned, a story repeated so many times by her father she can recite it by heart. The beginning of the legend of John Connor. Only Kaylen had been sent too far back, with nothing but a name and an old photograph. She and Derek Reese fell in love, married and had a child, Cameron. Four years later, Kaylen was pregnant again with John. And then the Terminator came..
And Cameron’s world fell apart. No more princesses, or tea parties, or ballerina’s dancing on Daddy’s shoes. It was guns and guerillas, safe houses and slums. And everything in the world revolving around John.
Maybe it would have been better if her mother have lived. Maybe it wouldn’t have. All Cameron can think is maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone.
There are footsteps in the distance, getting closer. Cameron can hear the heavy cadence, instantly recognizing the steps of the Terminator. She waits until the machine is standing behind her, imagines the blank expression on the woman’s face.
“Why are you following me?” Cameron slurs. “Shouldn’t you be protecting John? Isn‘t he all that matters?”
There’s a pause Cameron’s come to recognize as the Terminator choosing her words. “You’re intoxicated.”
Cameron snorts, taking another drink. “No. I’m drunk. There’s a difference.” Sarah says nothing. She steps closer, standing next to Cameron. “Shouldn’t you be protecting John?”
“No,” Sarah answers.
“Why not?”
“Because you didn’t send me back for John.”
Cameron freezes, like she’s unsure of what she’s just heard. “What?”
“I said you didn’t send me back for John,” Sarah kneels down close to Cameron.
“Who did I send you back for?”
“You,” Sarah answers. “’She pretends to be strong’ you said, ‘but she’s incredibly fragile’,” Sarah reaches out with a hand, cupping Cameron’s face. “’Don’t let her break’.”
“You know me?”
“Yes. Everyone knows Cameron and John Connor. It was you who sent back Kaylen. It was you who sent back me.”
“No, I mean you know me.”
There’s another pause and Cameron can see Sarah thinking. Terminator’s are nothing but machines, robots, computers covered in flesh. But Sarah’s.. different. In Sarah, John had found a surrogate mother. For Derek, he couldn’t see beyond his own hatred, seeing Sarah as a symbol of his own failings as a father and a husband.
Cameron found neither surrogate nor enemy. Instead, she found temptation. An ache to fill the hollowness in her soul, an image to relieve the tension during sleepless nights. A temptation for something ’wrong’. Cameron can feel it in her bones, in the heart that’s skipped several beats, the vice squeezing her lungs and making it hard to breathe.
Sarah pulls her hand away, rising to her feet. “We should go. It’s not safe here.”
With that, she turns and walks away. Something left unspoken hovers in the air. Cameron’s up on her feet, bottle forgotten on the ground by her mother’s grave. Adrenaline courses through her veins, cutting through the dull edge of inebriety.
“What am I to you?” Cameron’s calling out to Sarah, quickening her steps because Sarah’s going faster now. Fast like a machine. Fast like a human.
She catches up to Sarah, hand grabbing her arm and jerking her around. “What am I to you? What are you to me!?!”
“You’re Cameron Reese.”
Machines don’t lie, except when they do. Cameron had never been interested in theoretical arguments as to whether the machines could be human. All she knew was Sarah meant more to her than she did to either John or Derek. Sarah was Cameron’s. More than a dream, more than an ache in her chest or a burn between her legs. Something real, something tangible, something she could hold. Something that could hold her.
“Please, Sarah,” Cameron’s lip is trembling, like a raft hovering over the edge of the waterfall, caught in rapids she couldn’t control. “Tell me.”
“I miss..” Sarah pauses, almost stammering. “I miss touching you.”
Cameron leans in, feels Sarah‘s warm breath against her face. “You can touch me, Sarah.”
Sarah reaches out, cupping Cameron’s face, thumb grazing over Cameron’s lips. Cameron tilts her head into the touch, melting, letting go and she falls over the edge. A thumb becomes Sarah’s lips, warm and soft, like no kiss Cameron’s ever felt before. She’s hungry now, pulling Sarah until Cameron’s backed against a tree, fumbling, groping, pulling Sarah’s hand until Cameron has her where she wants Sarah to be.
She cries out as strong fingers slide inside her. Sarah’s not supposed to let Cameron break but break she does. Cameron breaks into a thousand pieces, a thousand pieces of pain, hurt, and anger crumbles away leaving nothing but the raw, aching nerve desperate to be loved. Aching to be first, even if it is with a machine.
The bottle of emotions, tightly corked for so many years, bursts open and Cameron cries as she comes. She clings to Sarah, the Terminator soft and gentle, holding Cameron tightly.
“We should go,” Sarah whispers softly, breaking the quiet solitude.
“Just..” Cameron buries her face deeper into Sarah’s neck. “Hold me a little more.”
“I can hold you forever if you want.”
Cameron pulls her head up, gazing into green eyes. “Would you?”
“Yes.”
Cameron presses their lips together. The kiss is passionate and leisurely, as if they have all the time in the world. When she comes up for air, Cameron presses her face into Sarah’s shoulder. Feels Sarah arms around her, warm and strong. For the first time in a very long time, Cameron feels safe.
For the first time in a very long time, Cameron doesn’t feel like a second fiddle.
END
x-posted to passion_perfect, sarahcameron