Trusting the Machine
Warning: Avery minor spoiler warning for the last two episodes. Nothing
big or plot-disturbing show wise, just putting this here
Dedication: Bunny-chan: This one is for you. ;)
Disclaimer: I am only a poor fan of the show, if I owned it, I wouldn't be posting fanfictions, I'd be working on the show. No profit was made from this story either. Feedback/Reviews LOVE!
Authors Note: Now I'm not particularly a Derek/Cam shipper (I'm not totally against it either), however my dear sweet Bunny-chan made a comment (and a maaaaybeee challenge) of how someone had to write a Derek/Cam story and so I took it upon myself to try that challenge. This is my first ever SCC fic, so be kind? I tried to keep true-ish to the show and the characters, but they might be a bit off. Sorry if they are.
He refused to call her by the name that was given to her. A name was something that would have made her seem more human…
"She's one of them!"
Derek was adamant that the machine could not be trusted. She had said it herself – "sometimes they turn bad, no one knows why" – and what was there to stop this one from remaining loyal. Still, it wasn't a simple matter of taking her outback and placing a bullet between her eyes and in his injured state he wasn't a match for her mechanical strength. It would be a loosing battle if he took her on by himself, Derek could admit that.
"She's helped us countless times." Sarah argued back, defending Cameron as one of theirs, rather then seeing her for what she really was. He couldn't believe that this woman, Sarah Connor, of all people trusted a machine over him. Yes,Cameron was from the future, but so was he! Derek had been there, had escaped from the impossible situations and had witnessed what things like that machine would bring about.
And Sarah trusted it.
He refused to call her by the name that was given to her. A name was something that would have made her seem more human. And that, was one thing that she was not. A human had emotions, feelings… the desire to protect something. Machines had a programmed task that they were to carry out. Her mission and the others like her would bring about the end of the world! Why couldn't Sarah, or even John for that matter, recognize this?
"I can't believe you trust that thing." His tone was filled with disbelief, a low growl punctuating his anger and frustration! Still, he wasn't stupid enough to continue the argument; he could see the light in Sarah's eyes, warning away from pursuing the argument any further. She was every bit a mother, he could tell it in the way she acted. The pinned looks she gave when someone was crossing the line, whether it was Derek or her son, the tone of voice she used when making an order, the way she worried about John when she was out…
One thing Derek didn't need – along with a machine working alongside them – was an angry mother on his case. Whether she was his mother or not, she still liked to think herself in charge and she demanded that she be listened to and obeyed. Still, she was too useful for the task to simply give up on.
So with his piece said, he left the room, before Sarah could reply back and give a speech about how if she were after John, she had had more than enough chances to get to him or something along those lines. He didn't want to listen to it. He shouldn't have to listen to it! That thing was dangerous, no matter what she or John said.
He went outside; he needed space and clean air to think properly. To calm himself down before he would try yet again to talk some sense into either John or Sarah. He didn't bother with shoes, not right now. Still, he couldn't help but feel surprised, even though he knew where he was, every time he exited the modest home and saw the world outside. The sight that met him a more than welcome change to what he had lived in the future, not too many years from now. Sounds of the children playing, cars driving by, birds chirping… no one aware of what would happen in just a few years time if Sarah and John failed in their quest to stop the inevitable.
"I know you too."
And that machine was what troubled his thoughts. Sarah shouldn't be willing to take risks like this with her son's safety; she shouldn't trust a machine with their safety. If she knew what was good for her, she'd dispose of it the same way she disposed of the others – burning them so nothing was left.
"You should be inside." The toneless feminine voice, a note that wasn't normal betrayed who the speaker was. It was her. He turned, pinning the robot with a glare that spoke volumes for how little he actually trusted her. "You are still wanted for Andy's murder." She pointed out, explaining the reasoning without any prompt from him to do so. Just like a machine. She didn't really care what happened; she was only concerned with her task at hand. Her mission.
"You're not fooling me." He warned, passing Cameron by as he re-entered the house, trying to get away from her. He couldn't stand to be around her for too long. She made him nervous, and for good reason. Derek knew that things like her were only a matter of time, he'd witnessed it before. The question was, when would she turn on them too. And what in the world would they do when she did.
"I don't understand." She followed him, looking for an explanation behind his distrust. Though he expected she knew perfectly well what he was talking about. Why couldn't she simply leave well enough alone?
Sometimes – a very rare sometimes – she did things that were so human that it threw him off. Like when he'd made a cold remark about hunger, and she took a bite of food. It was like she was aiming to prove his suspicions about her wrong. Or like she was doing now, pressing an issue that shouldn't need further clarification. It felt like she was trying to understand what it was to be human.
And then he would remind himself that she was not nor would she ever be a human.
"I don't trust you or your kind." He clarified in the simplest of ways, making it perfectly clear to her that she was his enemy. Just because Sarah and John were foolish enough to see her as a comrade, did not mean that he would make the same mistake.
"I haven't done anything to harm you." The machine spoke, again her words seemed defensive, a look that resembled a pained expression on her face as she processed his meaning. It was so human of her, that he had to again force his mind to remember she was not one of them. She was the enemy. She and her kind would destroy the world and take everything – as they knew it – away. "My mission is to protect John." She stated calmly, though the note of defense was still in her tone.
He remembered when he had caught her dancing the other day, when there was no immediate tasks at hand to ask to be done. At that time it had been the music that had drawn him to the room, following the sound as he had wondered just how long it had been since he had the chance to actually listen to music. And the melody of the instruments was soothing in a way, it calmed the anger that years of fighting had brought.
And then he had seen her dancing, ballet, to the music. Her movements were graceful and loose. At the time, she didn't resemble a machine at all to Derek. She seemed every bit a girl, practicing a dance and exploring an interest. He wasn't sure if she had known if he had seen her dancing or not, if she had, she made no indication of it – as she continued in her graceful movements. There was a certain way about the way she had danced then that was mesmerizing and dare he say it… but beautiful. Two parts of him argued with each other, on leaving the doorway and going somewhere else or staying to watch the private show.
In the end, he had left without one word to her. Now that he thought about it again, he wanted to know why a machine like her had been dancing. It wasn't in her programming to dance, and it wasn't part of her mission anymore to pretend to be a ballerina in training. Even if it had been, it made no sense for her to dance in the home. She was a machine, she knew the movements just by watching someone do it; she could perform the same thing.
"Why were you dancing," he ignored the fact that he wasn't answering her questions. He didn't have to answer her questions. However, she had to answer his. She owed him that much. "I saw you." He pointed out after a second passed and confusion had written itself across her features.
"I was practicing." She stated. Everything was said with such ease when she said it, there seemed like there was little room to argue. He assumed it was because ofwhat she was.
"Practicing? You can copy others without thought, what would you need practice for?" He accused, half not believing what he had heard as her response.
"I was told my movements are mechanical." Again, it was a simple statement. Clear to understand.
And he wanted to laugh; of course her movements were mechanical. She was a machine! What did she expect?
"Why even bother?" He asked instead of confronting her on the obvious. "That mission is done. It serves no purpose." He pointed out, honestly wanting to know the excuse behind her actions.
"It interests me." She replied after a few seconds of silence. It interested her? How the hell did you explain that one? She was a machine. She operated to complete a mission. Things like her should not have interests or likes or dislikes. "Did I do something wrong by dancing?" There was almost a note of worry, and indeed, her shoulders seemed to straighten, her posture reading of the worry that she had offended him by dancing.
The truth was, as many questions as it had presented, it had also been nice to witness.
"No." He responded.
He moved to leave the room, but stopped when he felt a light touch to his wrist and he turned a questioning gaze back to the machine. Amazed at how real the softness of her skin felt to the touch and how human the expression on her face was. "I do not intend to offend you. If you need something done, I can do it." And this time, he was genuinely surprised further by this machine. This time her words had not sounded like a simple statement, something that couldn't be argued because it was fact. This time, her tone, her expression and her words were all indicating that she was requesting it of him. To ask for a way to prove that he could trust her.
And for a moment, he forgot that she wasn't human, as he placed a light kiss to her forehead, brushing aside the hairs afterwards. "If I can think of something, I'll ask you, Cameron." He responded. For some reason, it felt right using her name. However, he was out of the room after that, his wrist easily slipping from her hold, because she had not needed him to stay.
Derek Reese was a long ways fromtrusting the machine named Cameron, but he was one step closer to working with her. Perhaps, there was a small hope for her yet, because out of all the machines he had seen, she was the one that most resembled a human. Not only in looks, like the others, but in the way she acted as well.