A/N: This takes place after the Terminator episode "Queen's Gambit".

Dean nodded at his brother. "You ready?"

"Are you sure this is the place?" Sam asked, double-checking to make sure his gun was loaded.

Dean nodded. "Yup. I triple-checked the address – this is the one you gave me."

Sam shrugged. "Okay. Then let's go."

The boys were on a job, looking into a few suspicious killings and suicides in the area. Now as both boys stood next to the Impala, they stared up at the huge warehouse-like building which belonged to the father of one of the suicides, Jordan Walker.

"Alright," said Dean. "Let's move." He and Sam made their way into the warehouse. They were careful, keeping their eyes open and guns drawn, prepared to be attacked by a demon or spirit of some sort.

Just when they were beginning to suspect that there was nothing of interest to be found, a voice issued from behind them. "Don't move."

"Shit," Dean swore. He and Sam slowly turned, their hands above their heads and their guns held loosely.

What they saw surprised them. There were two women, one slight and brown-haired who looked like a dancer, graceful and petite, and one raven-haired, who wore a fierce expression. Each, however, was holding a 9-millimeter gun trained on either one of the brothers. These guns were no doubt loaded with real bullets, not salt filled ones.

"Put your guns down," commanded the darker-haired woman. When Sam and Dean hesitated, she ordered them even more firmly. "Now."

Dean decided it would be best not to antagonize this woman; after all, both she and the brown-haired girl were holding guns themselves, and Dean didn't want to have to shoot either of them. So, with an unusual compliance as his mind raced around how to talk his way out of this, Dean set down his gun. Sam followed suit, simultaneously attempting to come up with a way to get out of this predicament alive.

"Get them, Cameron," the darker-haired woman spat. The slight girl beside her bent down, picked up the guns, and after handing one to her comrade, tucked the other into the waistband of her cargo pants. The darker-haired woman checked the gun over for a moment before doing the same. She jerked her chin towards the hallway down which Sam and Dean had been peering.

"Let's go. Move."

"Great," Sam muttered. He and Dean continued in front of two women. At the moment, Dean could easily envision himself dying not because of a demon, but a crazy woman with a gun.

As they reached a bend in the hall, the petite woman who had been referred to as Cameron pushed by them, forcing them to slow their pace to match hers. Behind them, the other woman suddenly called out, making them wince at the surprising loudness of her voice. "John! Derek! It's Sarah and Cameron! We have two prisoners!"

After only a brief pause, a section of the wall in front of them moved, and Dean marveled at the sight as if it were a cool effect in an old Indiana Jones movie. "It's a secret passageway!"

"Yeah, we can see that," the woman snapped. "Now shut up and keep moving."

Dean made a face as he followed his brother and Cameron, but it quickly dissolved as they entered the newly revealed room, which was completely stocked with a massive amount explosives. Two men – or, to be more accurate, a teenage kid and a man – stood holding sawed off shotguns. The younger one, whom Dean first assumed was Derek simply on a whim, addressed the older woman standing behind them. "Mom, who are they?"

"I caught them at the end of the hall, snooping around," said the kid's mother. "Tie them up or something. Derek and I are going to set the explosives."

"Okay," said who Sam and Dean now assumed to be John. Cameron, who had turned around, aimed her gun at the boys, leaving them now choice but to allow the kid to duct tape their hands together before securing them to the chair.

"C'mon, Sarah," said Derek. "We've got to move fast." Dean watched as he and the darker-haired woman (Sarah, was it?) left the room.

"Sorry," said John. "But we need to do this. I dunno if you're cops or whatever–"

Dean snorted.

Cameron spoke for the first time. "I don't understand what's funny," she said in a disjointed manner.

"We're not cops, believe me," said Sam to her before turning to the kid. "Why do you need to blow this place?"

John shook his head at Cameron. To Sam he said, "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

Dean looked between the two of them. "You'd be surprised at what we believe. If we told you why we were here, you wouldn't believe us, either."

John shrugged. "You want to know? Fine, I'll tell you." He took a breath before saying, "We have to blow this place up, because it's here that machines will be made in the future. And if they're made here, this place would be a cause of a computer system so advanced that it would ultimately declare war on the human race."

There was a beat of silence broken only by Dean's soft "Huh."

"Told you," said the kid. "We can't exactly go spreading that around and blowing up places really easily. The police don't look all that kindly on it. So that's why we've got to keep you tied. Just until we set the charges and get ready."

"Well, we hunt demons," Sam offered as if to match John's outlandish tale.

There was another beat before John echoed, with eerie accuracy, Dean's "Huh."

Dean smirked. "So, we're here looking for a connection to a lot of murders in this area. Suicides, too."

John paled a little.

"Like Jordan."

"Yeah," Dean said. "She's the reason we're here. Her father owns this warehouse. We thought it might be a vengeful spirit or something."

John, almost sorrowfully, shook his head. "It's the machines."

"The machines," Dean repeated, his voice full of skepticism.

John looked tired as he said, "Yeah. SkyNet. It's this computer system – it becomes self aware; long story short it declares war on humans and makes robots that come back through time to kill me. The reason we've got to blow this place."

Sam had an incredulous look on his face as he questioned, "Really?"

Dean muttered, "Wow. Paranoid much?"

John laughed a little. "Go on, Cameron. Show them."

Cameron readily stood up, as if she had just been addressed by a drill sergeant. "Show them what?"

"What you are."

There was a pause, with Dean and Sam disbelieving and thinking they'd run into the nuts of the century. Then Cameron said, "Shoot me, then."

John sighed and said, "It's gonna take a while to heal again."

"Stomach. It won't show."

John sighed again, took Dean's 9 millimeter gun from Cameron's outstretched hand, and waited until she had walked a little ways away. When she turned around, John took quick aim and fired.

Sam jumped, not thinking that John would actually shoot her. It was a gut shot, and Cameron should have been slumped on the ground, bleeding and crying. But she calmly walked back over to the boys. "Thanks, bozos. Now I have to wait until this heals before I wear a belly shirt."

John stifled a laugh. Sam looked stunned and Dean was in pure shock.

"But – nah, she's got a bulletproof vest on or something," said Dean, after a moment.

Cameron pulled her shirt up to show her stomach. Sure enough, there was the bullet wound, bleeding, the skin pierced and buckled. Sam winced. Dean attempted a smirk before joking, "Okay. I think I need to lay off the beers for a while, eh, Sammy?"

"Sure. And I must need to, too."

John gave them both a look. "It's the truth. She's a machine. A cybernetic organism."

"I don't believe it," said Dean.

"It doesn't matter. It's the truth. I can say I don't believe in ghosts."

"They're spirits," Sam interjected. "And there's demons and a hell of a lot of other stuff as well."

"That's the truth," said Dean.

When Sarah and Derek came back, having set the charges, Sarah took one look at Cameron's bleeding stomach and asked, "What happened? You show off to these two nitwits?"

John said, "I was showing them. I don't think they'll tell. After all, they're here for a spirit."

"Supernatural," added Cameron, rather randomly.

"Well, boys," said Sarah, "I can let you go if you promise to get the hell out of here and not come back. Or I can leave you in here when this place blows. Your choice."

"We should kill them," said Derek.

"Wait just a minute!" Dean objected. "What–"

"We aren't leaving them here, Uncle Derek. We're gonna let them free. They won't tell anyone. No one would believe them if they did, anyway."

Derek grumbled something about trusting too much, but John ignored him.

Sarah shrugged and cut the tape that tied Dean and Sam to the chairs. As Dean stood up to collect his gun from John, he asked in an undertone, "In this future, when the machines take over, do humans survive?"

John nodded. "There are survivors. The Resistance fights the machines."

"Who leads 'em?" Dean inquired curiously as his fingers closed around his gun.

"I do."

Seemingly satisfied, Dean turned away with a sniff and grabbed his brother by the coat, practically dragging him away. "C'mon, let's get the hell out of here."