Fate by Gatekeeper

"Officer down!"

These were not words John Connor enjoyed hearing under any circumstances, no matter how unsurprising they were in the middle of a firefight they were badly losing.

"It's Sergeant Reese!"

When that officer happens to be your father, and he hasn't had the chance to conceive you yet, it becomes an infinitely more pressing issue. Exactly three seconds to make a decision, the fate of the world resting squarely in his hands. Sadly, it was a position John was all too used to being in.

"Fall back! This place isn't worth it!"

The mission had been simple - take the southern energy station. Give the refugees under their care a chance for survival and the soldiers more firepower. A small group, in and out. A very minor use of their time and resources.

But either the T-600's had gotten smarter, or he and his men had gotten lazier. The Terminators had turned their minor use of time and resources into a full-blown trap. John cursed himself for not seeing it coming.

No time for that now. Got to go save himself, and indirectly the world, of his mother had it right.

Not to mention saving his father.

He and his men fell back, most sporting wounds ranging from minor to damn near life-threatening. Those that could still shoot provided cover for those that couldn't. Everyone focused on staying alive and keeping those around them in the same condition.

A patch of dirt hidden by machine debris served as their safe position. After making sure that the T-600's weren't pursuing, he went to the spot were they had laid Sergeant Tech Comm Kyle Reese.

"Report." John's eyes burned holes into Lieutenant Paul's forehead, who doubled as an on-site medic when she wasn't pushing sergeants around.

"Direct hit to the stomach. I have no idea how much damage it's done." Though she kept her voice even, John heard the edge of sadness in her voice. Everyone liked Reese. He also heard her unspoken diagnosis - there was nothing she could do.

No.

"Sir..." This was from Reese, who was even now struggling to sit up. Stupid man, did he have to have learned so much from watching his commander? Gently but firmly, John took him by the shoulders and pushed him back to the ground.

It's not supposed to happen like this. You can't die yet.

John wasn't certain whether it was the commander or the son in him that was talking. It didn't really matter.

Though Reese's body had finally given him the hint to lie still, he refused to stay silent. His hand brushed up against John's arm. "Sorry, sir," he croaked.

"Dammit Reese, there's nothing to be sorry for." John's voice was rough, angry, directed at a far higher power than Reese. Lieutenant Paul looked at him sharply.

Reese, however, seemed to understand. "My fault ..."

"For the raid failing? Officers may have the priority on guilt trips, but I outrank you, Reese. It's my fault. You just concentrate on getting yourself healed."

Lieutenant Paul looked at him as though he'd lost his mind. "Healing, sir?" she asked him, her face a study in shock. He knew she wanted to ream him for being a fool, but the great Connor was sacred. "I can't..."

"I order you to." His expression left no room for argument. There couldn't be.

Dammit, why wasn't someone up there protecting him? You need him to die later - the least you could do was keep him from having to do it now.

"Sir." John felt Reese's hand on his arm. When he turned, Reese pinned him with eyes that spoke volumes John didn't want to hear. His voice was soft and thick with pain. "Even I know there's nothing she can do."

"She can keep you alive until we get back to the base, and put you back together there." John hated how cold he sounded.

Reese just shook his head. "It's been an honor to serve with you, sir. Connor." He squeezed John's hand slightly. "An honor."

Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit. It's been an honor for me too, Reese. You're the finest officer I've ever served with. I'm grateful to have had a chance to know what a good man my father was. You're worth so much more than this mess.

All deeply felt, but all deathbed confessions. And Reese wasn't allowed to be on his deathbed yet.

"Get him prepared, Lieutenant."

Reese's face hardened. Few men welcome seemingly unnecessary pain. "Dammit, why?" He searched John's face, as if trying to understand how he could do this to him. "Show some mercy."

Oh, how I wish I could. But it's out of my hands.

John tapped Reese's breast pocket, where the picture of his mother still rested. "It's not time to see her yet. Trust me."

Expression unreadable, Reese simply closed his eyes as he was moved onto the makeshift stretcher and carried off.

John made ready to follow. Reese could make it. Fate hadn't given him any choice in the matter. But it wouldn't be pretty, and Reese might never forgive him for making him go through it. He might lose whatever relationship he might have had with his father, as well as the closest thing to a friend he ever had, in a way so much more permanent than death.

But he had no choice. After all, the fate of the world was resting squarely in his hands.

No matter how much John hated it sometimes.

THE END