Derek took a few seconds to breathe deep, vainly attempting to control the adrenaline that still flowed in his veins and the shaking of his hands. He left the hotel room and glanced all around to see if anyone was looking, but didn’t spot any cops, in uniform or plain clothed. No one was even around the hotel parking lot that he saw, but that didn't mean anything. In the few months of living with the Connors, he’d almost managed to forget what it was like, needing to be constantly vigilant.
Climbing into the jeep, Derek grabbed a sweatshirt from the back seat and pulled it on. He covered the bloodstains on his shirt as he zipped it up. The weather had turned cool, thankfully, so no one would comment on him covered up. His hands still shook as he put the key into the ignition and started the vehicle, but he ignored the tremors and pulled into traffic.
It took over an hour to get to
the school and he parked at the curb, completely under control once more. It
was only just after
Taking a look in the mirror, Derek figured he could pass for unscathed and tossed the bottles into the back seat. He stowed his pistols under the seat, remembering what John had said about metal detectors, and then walked swiftly to the main entrance. The absence of his weapons made him feel more than vulnerable; more like acutely naked. He took a steadying breath and asked the guard at the front, “Main office?”
“Down the hall on the right,” the man answered, giving him a suspicious look.
Derek ignored the rent-a-cop and headed for the main office. The only person he had to convince of his good intentions was behind the main office’s counter. That person turned out to be a sharp-faced woman in her fifties who looked like she’d heard every excuse in the book. Derek gave her a brief smile and said, “I’m Derek Baum. I need to pick up my niece and nephew, Cameron and John Baum.”
Her eyebrows rose and she replied, “Identification and reason, please.”
Derek pulled out his fake license and held it out as he said, “My sister-in-law was in a car accident, a bad one. I need to bring John and Cameron to the hospital.”
The woman took his ID and looked at it closely before handing it back. She turned to a boy sitting and reading and snapped, “Jason! Go find John and Cameron Baum and bring them here! They’re in lunch.”
The kid jumped to his feet and raced out, not that Derek blamed him. He had the feeling it would be bad to get on this woman’s shit list.
“How badly is she hurt?”
Derek thought about the gaping shoulder wound perilously close to Sarah’s heart and answered grimly, “Bad enough that they’ll be out of school the rest of the week.”
“Oh my,” she murmured. “I’ll have the teachers gather some assignments and give them to Morris to pass on.”
But Derek shook his head and answered, “It happened out of state, so we’ll be out of touch until we’re sure she’s okay.”
John and Cameron arrived just then. John took one look at Derek’s face and paled, demanding, “What happened?”
“Your mother was in a car accident,” Derek lied. “Let’s go.”
The woman called after them, “Good luck! I hope she’s all right!”
John didn’t say a word until they were in the car and then he exploded with, “What the fuck happened? Where’s my mother?!”
Derek faced him and reported, “Long story short, I got a lead, we checked it out and she got shot. I patched her up and hid her at a hotel outside the city.”
When John slumped back against his seat, Derek started the car and pulled away from the curb. His stomach was one big knot of worry for the condition in which he’d left Sarah, but there was no way they could have gone to a hospital. He’d gotten the bullet out and stitched her out, but conditions had hardly been sterile. Infection was sure to set in and then the party really started. At least with the machine present, they could accurately monitor Sarah’s condition.
They were almost to the turn off when Derek’s vision started to swim. His hands gripped tighter on the steering wheel and he blinked rapidly trying to stay focused.
“He is compromised,” Cameron announced suddenly.
Gritting his teeth, Derek said, “I am not. It’s just a scratch.”
“What, you’re hurt too?” John demanded, twisting in his seat. “Where? Jesus, Derek, you’re really bleeding.”
Derek spared a look down and was surprised to find that yes, he actually was bleeding. The hot patch of pain had been steady since the firefight, but he’d been sure the graze had both self-cauterized and clotted with the help of his shirt.
“Pull over and let me drive before you get us killed,” John ordered.
Derek was going to protest that he was fine when the edges of his vision started to dim and kept getting darker, signaling a serious loss of blood. Doing his best to look in the mirrors, he pulled onto the side of the freeway and put the jeep in park. John was instantly out of the jeep, running around to the driver’s side to help him out.
Wedging an arm under Derek’s shoulder, John commanded, “Cameron, you drive,” and assisted Derek into the back.
Derek moaned at the unexpected
pain flaring in his side as he stretched across the back seat. “Motel Eight on
John reached into the back area and pulled out the first aid kit as Cameron started driving. Shaking his head, he glared at Derek and snapped, “You’re not a terminator, you know, just flesh and blood like the rest of us. What were you thinking?”
“God, you sound like your mother,” Derek groaned as John yanked up sweatshirt and regular shirt at the same time. “And I don’t mean that in a good way.”
“Shut up,” John told him.
Derek hissed as John cleaned up a long, deep gash over his midriff, fingers sure as they put together a thread and needle even in a moving vehicle. He grimaced in dark amusement when John handed him a fifth of Vodka. He took a couple of deep swigs and handed it back, watching as John sterilized the needle and thread with the alcohol. He gripped the seat with both hands as the needle pierced his skin. John worked steadily, without any hesitation, and it was done in about two excruciating minutes.
John taped a bandage over the wound and sat back, wiping his now-bloody hands on his shirt and saying, “You should’ve just let me do that at the start of the trip.”
“I thought it had clotted,” Derek mumbled, closing his eyes.
Time faded out on him until he vaguely felt soft touches over his hair. Blinking awake the rest of the way, Derek found John looked down at him with a strange expression. “We there?”
John nodded. “Which room?”
“Nine,” Derek answered.
He groaned in pain as he sat up, accepting John’s help out of the jeep. It took a few seconds to find his legs, thanks to an assault of dizziness, but he managed to walk to the room on his own. Barely. He’d picked the hotel because it was an outside structure spread out with the rooms as almost individual cabins stuck together. They wouldn’t have to go into a single building and go through a lobby to get to their room.
John knocked loudly and called out, “It’s us, Mom!” He used the key Derek held out and opened the door, rushing inside.
Cameron looked like she was going to offer to help him, so Derek glared at her and walked by without giving the opportunity. If he passed out and fell on his ass, then she could carry him; until then, he would do it himself.
Sarah was still on the same bed where he’d left her, but awake and aware, from the gun she set on the nightstand table. John and Cameron immediately started fussing over her in their own ways. The machine scanned for internal damage while John held his mother’s hand and demanded answers.
Derek ignored all of them and carefully collapsed on the other bed, the blood loss hitting him more keenly than he’d expected. Pulling the pillow down to him instead of scooting up the bed, Derek closed his eyes and let himself just drift asleep.
* * * *
When Derek woke next, it was to the sound of soft conversation and the smell of spaghetti sauce cooking.
“More security than we expected so early on,” Sarah said. “Neither of us was sure he was even one of the fourteen, let alone that he would be under guard. There was no sign his house was under surveillance, which is why we thought it safe enough to check out. The guy who answered the door took one look at Derek and ran inside, shouting for someone else. I pushed inside even though Derek was trying to convince me to leave and check it out more. I should’ve listened, because the guy who showed up had a semi-auto pistol and shot me on sight. Derek got me out and I don’t remember much until I woke up here, already bandaged up.”
John asked, “But he was definitely reacting to Derek and not you?”
“Yes,” she agreed. “I got shot because I was in front.”
“So we can go home and Derek should just lie low for a while,” John mused.
Sarah countered, “We don’t know enough of anything right now to go anywhere. Since we’re all here and together, I want you and Cameron to see what you can find out about this man and if there’s any alert about Derek now.”
“Good idea.”
“Dinner is ready,” Cameron announced.
Derek grimaced at hearing she’d made the food; there was always something missing when the machine cooked. People might laugh about food having an essence or soul, but Derek could literally taste the difference when Cameron cooked. He rubbed an eye with the heel of his palm and slowly pushed upright. He only had to move partway on his own; John rushed over to help him sit and then get settled at the top of the bed.
Pale blue-green eyes searched his with obvious worry as John asked, “How do you feel?”
“I’m fine,” Derek answered, uncomfortable with the help. “It’s just a scratch. I just need fluids.”
As if by magic, John held a bottle of juice to him and said, “It doesn’t really go well with pasta, but you need the sugar.”
Derek half-grinned. “I’ve had worse combos, trust me.”
John quirked a grin at him and moved over to get a plate together for Derek, since Cameron had already brought one to Sarah. Looking over at her, he asked, “How’s the shoulder?”
Sarah gave him a wry look as she replied, “Hurts like hell, but Cameron stole some painkillers while you were out. Need any?”
“I wouldn’t turn one down,” he said and then drank down all the juice.
John returned with his own plate, but set it down and went to get the pill bottle on the table. He grabbed a bottle of water while he was there and gave both to Derek before sitting cross legged on the bed with him.
Derek washed down the pill and then finished off the water before starting to eat. He actually wasn’t all that hungry, but put away almost half before setting it aside.
“That’s all you’re going to eat?” John asked.
Nodding, Derek said, “I’ll get sick if I eat more. I’ll take more juice though.”
John hopped up and got him another bottle and then took away the plate.
Grinning, Derek observed, “I could get used to this kind of service.”
Sarah laughed and told him, “I wouldn’t. He’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”
“He is standing right here guys,” John retorted.
The painkiller dragged at him, blurring things nicely around the edges and Derek yawned. Since he wasn’t needed for anything, he got up and headed slowly for the bathroom, waving John off. He took care of business and pulled off the useless, badly bloodstained shirt and cleaned off as best he could without getting the bandage wet. He really wanted a long, hot shower and sighed before going back to the main room so he could get some sleep.
John and Cameron sat at the table as John worked on his laptop, both talking softly. It was such a deceptively domestic scene that it set Derek’s teeth on edge. To the naked eye, they looked like two kids, sibling even, hanging out or maybe doing homework together. Jaw clenching, Derek looked away from them, but not before Cameron glanced his way, the light catching her eyes just right so that they glowed briefly electric blue.
Climbing into bed, Derek pulled up the covers and got as comfortable as his wound allowed. It was far more comfortable than he’d been in the past while recuperating, no doubt about that, and the wound really was superficial. He felt a little like a hypochondriac for taking the painkiller. Still, there was no point in turning down something that would help him heal faster.
He fell asleep to the soft tap of John’s fingers on the keyboard and Sarah’s gentle snores.
* * * *
When Derek woke the second time, he felt mostly back to normal. His side was sore, but totally manageable and he felt alert. Looking at the clock, he saw that he’d gotten almost eight full hours of sleep and half-smiled. He’d slept so well in the last couple of months that it still didn’t feel real. None of it did, really. He’d been on the run and fighting for his entire adult life and a good portion of his youth. Right now, his younger self was at school, with no idea what could very well happen in three short years. There would be no graduation if Judgment Day happened.
Well, not one with a cap and gown, anyhow.
Rolling out of bed, he stopped on seeing John asleep in the other bed with his mother, curled on his side with an arm thrown protectively over her waist. It felt like his heart squeezed and Derek drew in a shaky breath. Sometimes, he just couldn’t reconcile this young John to the man he’d known and, other times, like now, he remembered just how protective of others John was. Future or present, it seemed as though even in his sleep, John did everything he could to keep those he loved safe.
Except me, Derek
thought, eyes closing painfully. He sent me back. Sent me
away. I could have done so much more, watching his back. We could have
been so much more to each other, if he’d only just given me a chance.
But he hadn’t, because Derek was just another soldier, even though they were friends, too. John could be a cold bastard when it came to tactics, ruthless even, and their friendship hadn’t counted for anything when push came to shove. Swallowing against a tight throat and unexpected tears, Derek wiped angrily at his eyes and stalked to the bathroom. He urinated and then washed up, splashed ice cold water on his face and then dunked his head in the sink for extra measure. Back in control after that, Derek dried off and then went outside to the jeep to look for a shirt that wasn’t covered in blood.
He found another sweatshirt, but it was John’s so it was really tight on him. Derek grimaced, but zipped it as far as it would go, which was only midway. He went back inside and into the kitchen to see what they had to make breakfast with, finding a fully stocked mini-fridge. John had probably gone grocery shopping while the machine had stolen the drugs.
Derek started cooking and heard the others start to move around shortly after that. When the door opened, he looked over to find Cameron with a small tray of drinks, probably coffee, which she set on the table. He turned back to cooking and had eggs, bacon and toast on the table by the time John got out of the shower. He would have brought a plate over to Sarah, but she was upright and under her own steam already, if moving slow, to take John’s place in the bathroom.
Shrugging, he sat and sat down to eat.
John asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Good as new,” Derek answered. “What did you find out last night?”
“Mr. Ray Marshall, Ph.D, works for a think tank called Wallitz RFD which is actually a front for another company called Harriman Associates Inc, which, in turn, is a front for yet another company called Grossman Ltd. Guess which industry Grossman Ltd. leads? And the first two guesses don’t count,” John finished.
Derek grimaced. “Science and technology.”
John touched his finger to his nose and confirmed, “More specifically, AI tech.”
Derek caught movement out of
the corner of his eye and glanced sidelong to find Cameron frowning and
touching her pointer finger to her nose in echo of John. Rolling his eyes,
Derek asked John, “So what about
Sarah exited the bathroom on that and John was on his feet to help her over to the table. She just smiled and leaned on him, which made Derek hide a grin. If he or the machine had done the same thing, they’d’ve probably gotten their heads taken off.
“You want me to reheat your breakfast?” Derek offered.
Sarah shook her head. “It’s
fine. So, yes, what about
Sitting back down, John explained, “He’s head of research.”
“The big brain,” Derek said.
They were all silent for a few seconds and then Sarah started to eat. Derek looked at John, but he seemed to have no idea what his mother might be thinking. Shrugging to himself, Derek finished off his toast and went to get more juice.
Sarah finally said, “There’s nothing we can do about him like this. We need to find out exactly what he’s working on, what his security is like, and then move on him.”
Kill him, Derek translated silently, assigning the task to himself automatically as he sat back down. He nodded and said, “Just as well he lives outside the city. We probably won’t run into him accidentally.”
She gave him a pointed look and stated, “You’re still going to lay low for a while.”
“What about you?” John questioned, clearly troubled. “They saw you, too. There has to be security footage with you on it. What if they run your picture?”
Sarah reached out to rub his shoulder. “I’ll stay close, too. Cameron will keep an eye out for any activity on Sarah Connor, they don’t know about Sarah Baum, so we’re safe on that end of things.”
The machine nodded and added, “So far there have been no alerts reissued on official channels.”
John didn’t look all that reassured, but he didn’t argue further, either.
“Let’s get this place cleaned up and head home, then,” Derek suggested.
Sarah nodded, agreeing, “No sense staying in the area.”
It didn’t take long before they were out of the motel and Derek went to pay the bill, feeling the bull’s eye on him as he waited in the small, cramped lobby. It was always that way after a close call. He would be paranoid for days to come, so staying in the house would be no problem for him at all.
The clerk gave him a suspicious look and Derek realized abruptly what he was wearing. Giving the woman a weak smile, knowing anything he said would look bad, he only told her, “We’re ready to check out.”
She took the cash and said, “Have a good day,” in a tone that really said, “You better not be convicted felons who left me a damn body.”
Derek left quickly and found Sarah settled in the back seat with John when he got to the jeep. He grimaced, but didn’t comment on sharing the front with the machine. It wasn’t like he had to make conversation with it. He got inside and headed for the freeway, turning the radio on to a rock station to occupy his mind a little, though he kept the volume low.
The drive passed uneventfully and they were home in a little over an hour, thanks to light traffic on the freeway. Everyone was quiet as they went inside, the mood restrained and tired. Derek wasn’t surprised when everyone split up to go to their own rooms, doing the same so he could sprawl on the now-familiar bed. It wasn’t even that he was all that tired and he really wasn’t in pain. The letdown after a serious adrenaline rush always left him drained in a way that was hard to describe. He was sure the others felt the same.
Derek unzipped the sweatshirt and tossed it into the hamper before dropping onto the bed. He grimaced at the twinge in his side and then ignored it, staring up at the ceiling as he thought about everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. They’d found one of the remaining thirteen people who’d worked on Skynet, but there was still so much to be done and all he could feel was the ticking of the clock. Judgment Day was coming so fast and they were still so unprepared.
He did actually fall asleep, waking to the sensation of being watched some time later. Keeping his breathing even, Derek opened his eyes just to a slit and found John standing in his bedroom doorway. He heaved a sigh, as though waking, and the younger man left. Frowning, Derek rubbed his eyes and pushed upright, wondering what was going on. He rolled off the bed and wandered down the hall to John’s bedroom, but didn’t find him there.
John was on the porch, working on his laptop by the time Derek got there. He looked up when Derek stepped outside, but quickly glanced back down to his screen.
Frowning, Derek asked, “Did you need something?”
“Nope.”
“You weren’t just at my room?” Derek probed.
“Nope.”
Lips pursed, Derek decided to drop it. Instead, he asked, “Has your mom surfaced? Should I make supper?”
“I think we’re just ordering in,” John replied, still not looking up.
Okay, what’s with the lack of eye contact? Derek wondered, frowning. Shaking his head, wondering if maybe he’d caught John surfing porn, Derek said, “You want pizza or what?”
“Whatever.”
Rolling his eyes, Derek went back inside muttering, “Like talking to a brick wall.”
He wound up ordering pizza and ignoring Cameron as he used the living room to stretch and do some forms to work out the kinks. She stood off to the side, watching him, probably trying to throw him off his game. His side twinged, but he ignored that, too. Feeling better for the exercise, Derek taped some plastic over his bandage and took a hot shower to pass the time until the pizza arrived.
Sarah and John were already eating by the time he was dressed in clean jeans and t-shirt. He grabbed a plate and sat, snagging a couple of slices from the box. Grinning at John, he announced, “Back to jogging tomorrow.”
“Oh, come on!” John protested. “You’re still hurt.”
Derek snorted. “Like that’s going to fly.”
John glared and insisted, “But you are!”
Eating some of his pizza first, Derek said firmly, “I’m fine, John.”
“Fine. If you want to friggin’ kill yourself, I’ll be up at five in the morning to jog,” John snapped, jumping to his feet and stalking away.
Surprised, Derek looked at Sarah, who seemed equally mystified.
“He’s a teenager,” she said at last, the ghost of a smile rising. “Who knows?”
But Derek thought it might be something more than that. He might not have, without the earlier lying about watching him sleep, but he couldn’t ignore the evidence. Setting it to stew on the back burner for the time being, Derek started on the second slice of pizza.
* * * *
John was up at five, as promised, but just the night seemed to have turned him sullen. Derek did his best to ignore the cold shoulder, but it cut deeper than he expected. Keeping his pace at a slow, steady clip, Derek repressed the impulse to punish John’s silence with an increase in exertion. As it was, they still had to stop around mile three so John could walk off a stitch in his side. Even with the increase in his stamina and potassium, the cramping still hit at least twice a run. Derek was starting to wonder if it was just something the younger man had to outgrow.
They paused on the secondary path, the one that was seldom used by others. John breathed harsh and fast, sweaty and pale as he walked off the cramp. Derek gave him the water bottle and watched to make sure he didn’t drink too much, too fast. There was something unsettling about the way John kept looking at him, something strange in his gaze, but Derek was determined not to ask what the problem was. If John wanted to be a dick, he wasn’t going to try and make nice.
Derek held out his hand for the water bottle only to get an armful of John. At first he thought the younger man had tripped again, but then soft, clumsy lips landed on his and startlingly strong hands gripped his shoulders to keep him in place. Shock kept him rooted in place for a few seconds before Derek jerked back, away from John.
John stumbled a little, looking as shell-shocked as Derek felt. But then an all-too-familiar expression surfaced on the young face. There was definite vertigo as Derek saw the adult certainty on John’s face, the eyes intent in a way that belied the fifteen years.
Derek shook his head and held up a hand, snarling, “No! Forget it!”
“Derek, it’s okay,” John began.
Derek backed up a few more steps as John walked forward. “It’s not fucking okay, John! Jesus! You’re fifteen years old and I’m your God damned uncle!”
John shrugged, still with that intent look, and pointed out, “Doesn’t stop me in the future.”
“Don’t, John,” Derek ordered harshly. “Don’t even compare it. It’s not the same thing at all.”
“Oh, what. You’re in love with me? Please.”
The careless words were a slap in the face and Derek stumbled back, feeling sick, a hand going to his stomach. He saw the knowledge…the awful understanding…on John’s face and didn’t wait for the pity. Drawing himself up stiffly, he said, “I’m going for a run and you are never to bring this up again. Never.”
And then he ran like a T-888 was after his very soul.