DISCLAIMER: The Sarah Connor Chronicles and its characters are the propert of James Cameron and Fox. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for Challenge #225 ~ Fight at slashthedrabble.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Fight (With) Me
By shyath


The crash sounds quiet, quiet in a way that only the heaviest of objects can be, but the more than sizable dent in the kitchen floor is testimony enough to the altercation that is occurring. Not that the fact that evidence would be left is Sarah's foremost concern at the moment.

"I will not fight you," Cameron tells her and her voice is strong, is still clear. And Sarah longs for the awkward silence they were just in – when all that broke the stillness was her own harsh panting and Cameron's gentle, gentle exhalations.

Sarah's fingers ache with the effort needed to maintain a hold on the gun. Her hand is shaky and she knows it is more than just about it being a hand she is not accustomed to using. Cameron is looking up at her with an amiable expression, acting like there is nothing amiss. Like Sarah is not straddling her waist, is not pressing a gun to her forehead, is not trying her best or her most foolish to terminate her. "Shut up," Sarah hisses in reply and her voice sounds like breaking, like straining, like maybe she is about to cry (and the tears may never stop). "Just. Shut. Up."

"Sarah, your arm -" Cameron says, the tips of her fingers inching towards the bloody bandage covering the near entirety of Sarah's right arm. Sarah flinches away and she almost regrets the action. She tells herself it is because it hurts like a bitch to move the arm like that and not because of the brief flash of hurt Cameron gets in her eyes when she fails to make contact – and obviously not for her lack of trying. She is not human, Sarah feels the need to remind herself once again and she presses the gun down harder against Cameron's forehead. Just like the terminator we just met. Just like every single one of them we've met. It's her fault, it's their fault, it's her fault.

"Don't touch me," Sarah warns in a low tone and she releases the safety just to emphasise her point. She wants to hear Cameron's breaths coming in short and hard, wants to see her pulse insistently beating, wants to know that Cameron is afraid – but Cameron is not human, is not wired like that. The pulse remains steady and her breaths remain even. Not human, Sarah tells herself again, but her own inner voice sounds increasingly reluctant.

"Sarah," Cameron tries again and her hand lands solidly on the hand wielding the gun. "It is okay," she whispers, her eyes rising almost timidly to meet Sarah's.

"It's not okay," Sarah croaks and her hand grows lax on the gun.

"Give me the gun, Sarah," Cameron continues and her voice is soothing, is careful.

"No," Sarah answers and her hand tightens around the gun once more.

"Sarah," Cameron says gently. "Please."

Sarah can feel her lower lip trembling, can feel the tears start falling down and she is both ashamed and relieved for it. Cameron is always, always gentle in her dealings with her. Even Kyle fell short compared to the terminator. Kyle never made her feel as safe and secure, never seemed as strong and Kyle definitely would never be able to handle the woman Sarah has now become. Maybe it is Cameron's strength that first attracted Sarah – the realisation triggers more tears. But now, now – "I'm scared," Sarah admits and she hopes, hopes that John is not around to hear this admission.

"Sarah," Cameron murmurs as she pulls Sarah down by the back of her neck so that their foreheads meet. The gun lays forgotten on the floor next to her head. "I promise I will not fight you." Cameron looks Sarah in the eye and Sarah's breath catches at the fierceness she encounters there. "But I will fight with you, next to you. I will protect you." Cameron's eyes move away and her hand caresses Sarah's bandaged arm. "This will not happen again, I promise."

Sarah does not have the heart to remind Cameron that promises do not work so cleanly, so simply in the life they lead, but she likes that Cameron is sentimental enough to tell her all those promises, is human enough to do so. Sarah looks down at Cameron and she smiles a little. The face she now sees is just Cameron's, no other terminators' lapsing over hers. Just Cameron, my Cameron. "Don't leave me. Ever."

"I promise," Cameron tells her as she leans up.

Sarah releases a sigh before she closes the distance to meet Cameron halfway through. The taste that is uniquely Cameron's mingles with the saltiness of her own tears and Sarah feels cleansed enough, feels strong enough to fight another day – just as long as Cameron stays to fight with her.

The End

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