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Would You Call This Love? (All It Took Was a Bullet)
"Does it hurt?" Sarah asked softly as she stood nervously in the doorway of Cameron's bedroom. She was trying not to pay too much attention to the way the pliers glisten wetly against a brief flash of metal amidst all the broken skin and blood that was the bullet hole in Cameron's shoulder.
There was an unpleasant, almost sickening squelch as the pliers slowly slipped in. Cameron's expression remained unchanged, but Sarah winced before she could stop herself. "A little," Cameron admitted finally. "It could hurt more if I want it to."
Sarah dropped her eyes guiltily. "I'm sorry."
"It wasn't your fault," Cameron told her flatly. Somehow the placid words managed to hurt more than angry ones would. Sarah almost wished that Cameron would lash out instead.
"I shot you."
There was a wet hiss as the pliers disappeared further inside Cameron's shoulder. "Did you mean to?"
"Of course not! It was an accident. You you startled me."
"Then it wasn't your fault," Cameron reiterated, pulling out the pliers with a frown. There was no bullet in sight.
"I'm still sorry."
There was a short, awkward silence as Sarah began to fidget and Cameron continued poking at her wound with a clinical detachment Sarah found both horrifying and fascinating. "Help me," Cameron said after a while.
Sarah started. "But I was the one to put that bullet in you! You what if those pliers looked damn sharp and you want me near you with those in my hands?!" Maybe the bullet had caused something to short out in Cameron's circuit. Though Sarah suspected the terminator had always been a few gears short anyway.
There was a flicker of something in Cameron's eyes and Sarah inexplicably felt her heart clench. "Please."
Cameron smiled reassuringly. "I trust you, Sarah."
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