Parental Instinct by Gatekeeper

Good soldiers did not smack their commanders upside the head and tell them to stop being so stupid.

No matter how much they deserved it.

"Sir?"

Nothing.

"Connor!"

Still nothing.

"Dammit, Jennet! Pull him out of there! He's sliding into the cyber-trance too fast."

"But..."

Corporal Kyle Reese whirled around, the expression on his face leaving no room for argument. "Unless you want the commander to permanently lose his mind in Skynet, I suggest you shut the link down. Now."

"Yes, sir!"

Reese sighed. Technically, what he had just done could be called pulling rank, except for the fact that he had no rank to pull. Jennet was a lieutenant, and had been fighting at least twice as long Reese had -- he should be the one ordering Reese around.

Reese supposed his fear-induced vehemence counted for something.

John Connor's eyes refocused a moment later. As soon as they did, they locked straight onto Reese. "Somebody better have a damn good explanation for why I'm no longer in the system."

Reese was careful to keep his voice even. "You were moving into the trance more quickly than was safe, sir." Best to sound as deferential as possible when one was this close to insubordination. "It won't do you any good to access the mainframe where the Terminator brains are created if you're so far into the trance you're never able to get out of it."

Connor's eyes narrowed slightly. "Still, was it necessary to pull me out that early, Reese?"

To be honest, it probably wasn't. Everyone else seemed perfectly content to let Connor charge headfirst into every dangerous situation, following orders to the best of their abilities while he heroed himself to death. Reese didn't have to give into his completely irrational urge to protect his superior officer, no matter how much he needed it.

But no need to tell him that. "Yes, sir."

"Any suggestions then?"

"You could let me do it." Not likely, but it was worth a shot. "I'm a little more expendable than you are."

"No." The expression on Connor's face left no room for argument. "Do you have a suggestion, Jennet?"

"No, sir."

"Fine, then. Put me back in." He looked at Reese again, and his expression softened slightly. "I'll be fine, Reese."

Reese sighed again. Connor was always good at making him do that. "So you keep saying, sir." Maybe one day, Reese would actually start to believe him.

"Maybe it would slow down the process if I kept talking."

It was worth a shot. "Let's try it. But my formal complaint against this whole idea is still lodged."

"Of course, Reese."

Jennet's fingers moved rapidly as he punched in the proper sequence of keys that Connor eventually hoped would allow him to jack into the Cyberdyne manufacturing system. If he was able to get in and somehow find a way to manipulate the system, they would have control over an entire generation of Terminators. Reese's job was to monitor Connor, making sure that John stayed alive long enough to be able to use that control.

"Start talking, sir."

"You know I've never been good at polite conversation."

Reese did -- it was one of the things they had in common. "Then start talking about weapons, sir. You're good at that."

"I can go on about those for hours."

"That's the idea, sir."

"You're actually asking me to start into one of my weapons lectures? You must really be serious about this." There was laughter in Connor's voice.

There was none in Reese's. "Very serious, sir."

"Good." John was entirely focused on the mission again. "So am I."

A moment passed, then John's hand moved to his breast pocket. Pulling something out, he handed it to Reese. "Take care of Mom for me, okay?"

Connor was giving Reese the only surviving photograph of his Sarah? Sarah -- he caressed the name in his mind almost without meaning to. To be able to look at her whenever he wanted ... But the rest of his brain saw John's willingness to pass on the photograph as a very bad sign. Way too much like a will.

"Is this supposed to be making me feel better, sir?"

"No. It's supposed to make me feel better." Reese couldn't detect even a hint of irony in Connor's voice.

"Yes, sir." Reverently, Reese took the photograph, moving it into his own breast pocket. He could at least do that much. "But you sure as hell better be coming back for it."

That last statement had sounded a lot more deathly serious than he had meant it to.

Still, Connor didn't seem bothered by it. In fact, he even seemed a little touched. "Not used to worrying about someone like this, are you?"

"No, sir." Thank heaven for that. Much more of this could kill him.

At his response, Connor smiled slightly. "Don't worry -- I suppose everyone in your position ends up feeling exactly the same way."

"Sir?" Reese would have liked to blame the obscurity of that last statement on the fact that Connor was just about to go into the trance, but the commander had the nasty habit of being confusing as hell even without mechanical assistance.

"Don't worry about it. I'm going into cyber-trance."

"And just at the right time, sir. Good luck. We'll be here when you get back."

I'll be here. Always.

THE END