Author's note: Thanks to all who have reviewed my other fics. Glad you liked them, hope you like this one, too! This can kind of follow "Flak," though you don't need to read it to understand this one.

It was, to use Derek's description, a clusterfuck. All they had wanted was a place to train--some empty warehouse space, well away from any populated area so that nobody could hear the gunshots and they could set up simulated battlefield conditions.

The price for renting the space had been right. The location had been ideal. What was waiting for them inside had been exactly the opposite of ideal. Not expecting a battle, they had been only lightly armed, and while Cameron could hold her own against one or two T-888s, four of them in a well-executed ambush had them fighting a retreat from the very beginning.

The retreat had quickly turned to an all-out rout with Cameron hopping awkwardly behind them, dragging her mangled and inoperable leg while desperately trying to lay down cover fire. And it didn't take her advanced battle scenario analysis to figure it out--they were going to lose. Big time. They knew it, and the three (remaining) T-888s knew it, too.

So it was that the massive wrecking ball that swung down with a monstrous creak and a groan seemed like divine intervention, as it impacted against all three Terminators and neatly swept the cyborg death squad up in a great, yawning arc.

They were sophisticated killing machines, but the laws of physics still applied to them. Their metal frames were no match for the sheer momentum of the giant hunk of metal, and they flew high, hundreds of feet up in the air, only to land far out into the ocean.

In the silence that followed all that could be heard was the gasping, wheezing breaths of the humans and the click-whirl whine of Cameron's compromised exoskeleton. The flesh hung off the back of her torso in ragged strips, her left leg jutted out in a position that screamed out its wrongness to anyone who looked, and her neck seemed to be fused in a permanently tilted position. Cameron struggled to right herself.

"Holy shit," exclaimed an unfamiliar voice. Walking toward them a stocky serious-faced young man could be seen. Dressed in a standard issue T-shirt and jeans, he quickly approached Cameron. "Here, let me give you a hand," he said.

Instantly, all four noted that he displayed not the slightest shock, disbelief--or even revulsion--at the sight of Cameron's glowing blue exposed eye, her terrible injuries and her metallic parts, and as one, John, Sarah and even Derek drew their weapons. Cameron instinctively shrank back, but it was too late, as the stranger took hold of her hand.

The biosignal collectors in her hand and the data collected by visual analyzers instantly delivered the verdict: not human. "John, NO!" she screamed. "It's a metal! Run! It's a metal, get away now!" Desperately, she reached up with her other arm, clawing and grasping. She knew there was zero chance she could prevail against a fresh cyborg in her state, but she still hoped to slow it down long enough for her John to get away and survive.

"What? Wait! No! Hold on! Hold on! Wait! I'm on your side! I'm on your side!" he said, dropping Cameron's hand and holding his left hand in front of him in a "stop" gesture as he used his right hand to ward away Cameron's feeble attacks at his eyes.

"Lies," hissed Derek as he sighted down the barrel of his semi-automatic.

"No! Wait! I can prove it!" he said. "You! You're John Connor, and when you were little, your favorite toy was a stuffed lion you called Pedro!"

The squint left Sarah's and John's eyes, though they kept their guns aimed at the mystery man.

Confirmed Cameron, though suspiciously, "That is a fact known only to those whom General Connor trusted implicitly. I do not recognize you, nor do I recognize your model number. Who are you?"

"My name's Bruce. I was created after you, so you wouldn't recognize my model number, but I was sent to help. You have to believe me, it's important!" The urgency and the sincerity were evident in the young man's eyes. "Look, I could be attacking you all now, and you know you wouldn't stand a chance against me, but I'm not, see?"

Unable to refute his logic, John, Derek, and Sarah visibly relaxed. Cameron stood down, but her face went blank. "What is your mission?"

Looking apologetically at her, he said, "I'm sorry, uh, Cameron, but I can't tell you."

"I was charged with protecting John Connor," insisted Cameron. "I need to know. Why did General Connor send someone else back? Has a threat come up that he feels I can no longer handle?"

"Look," Bruce said sympathetically and sheepishly. "I really wish you wouldn't ask, because I really, really can't tell you. Any of you. But I can promise you that General Connor still believes you are the best choice to protect him, the younger him, that is, and that my mission coincides with yours for a while." Expression hardening, he continued, looking around, "Looks like you could use my help--Cameron here is going to take a while to self-repair."

John looked at Cameron, who nodded. "Cam? You're going to be OK, though, right?" the concern in his voice evident as he stood up and started heading toward her.

Cameron nodded, but before anything could happen, Bruce picked her up. At John's odd look, he explained, "You always forget that she's heavier than she looks. It's just easier if I do it."

Nodding, but clearly not pleased about it, he acquiesced. Turning, he pointed. "Our car's over there. Come on."

"Lucky for you, I have some system upgrades with me that should accelerate your repairs and speed the healing of your organics," Bruce told her as he carried Cameron into the house. "Where's your room?" he asked, and at Cameron's gesture, he wordless headed towards it.

As Sarah entered the house, she was startled to see Bruce standing before her, hands behind his back, shuffling his feet. If she didn't know any better, she'd have sworn that he was nervous. "Ma'am?"

Frowning slightly at the old-sounding appellation, she looked at him. "I, uh," he began. "I need to, I mean, if it's all right with you I need to be close to Gen ... I mean, John, so I was wondering if you would mind if I just moved in? I only have a small bag and I won't need my own room -- I don't really need to sleep anyway ... and ..."

She would have been amused if her body wasn't such a mass of aches and pains. All she wanted was to get to the shower before Derek got there first and used all the hot water, and since Cameron seemed to have no protest, she just said, "Fine, fine, sure, whatever" and brushed past him hurriedly. Which is why she missed the look of awe he gave her as she walked away.

Derek came in at the tail end of the conversation, but he only growled, "Of course you don't need to sleep. Fucking metal piece of shit!" as he walked past. "Damnit!" he added when he heard the shower being turned on, realizing he would have to wait his turn. He too missed the look Bruce gave him--a roll of the eyes and an amused smile.

As John walked in, Bruce walked toward him with his hand extended said, "Hi. We haven't been introduced properly. I'm Bruce, it's an honor to meet you sir, I mean John."

"Yeah, I'm John," came the reply with a perfunctory shake.

As John turned to head toward Cameron's room, Bruce said, "Actually, uh, John, since your mother said I could stay here while Cameron's laid up, I was wondering if I could ask you to pick up a bag of my things for me?"

Turning and slapping the car keys into Bruce's hand, John replied, "Here. I need to see to Cam."

"Actually," interrupted Bruce. "I have some system upgrades that should allow me to better help with the repairs." Dangling the keys, he suggested, "I can get started right away if you can pick things up. I'm actually just at the motel down the road, and there's just the one small bag of clothes. Here's the key" he said, fishing a standard metal key with a red plastic tag hanging from a single ring out of his pocket.

John looked Bruce up and down for a moment. "Sure. Fine. Sounds good," he said, and though the tone of his voice clearly indicated that it didn't sound very good to him at all, he took the keys and walked back out the door.