Author's Note: Oh boy...so this has taken an excruciatingly long time to get up and I'm very sorry about that! But recently, I finished my first year of college and am now into my summer months. So, while cleaning out my dorm, I decided that I would use the rest of the pages of my planner to set up a schedule for updating my stories here on FF. Hopefully this means that this story will get updated much more often than it took to get this chapter up. I'm not really sure what I think about this chapter, but I'll give it a whirl. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Terminator franchise does not belong to me. Private Carter Peth belongs to my imagination.

I'm stuck in the room that John locked me in; although, honestly, if I wanted to, I could easily break down the door. However, I just don't want to come across as some crazy, psycho Terminator. First impressions are crucial and I'd rather not have a bullet lodged in my brain. Because most likely John has a few good shots outside the door, just waiting for me to try and wreak havoc upon the base. Because I'm really like that.

When the door is finally opened and John Connor enters the room, I merely cross my arms, still sitting on the ground and leaning against the wall. I nod my head in greeting, as he curtly bobs his head back. He stands near the door, which is left open a crack. I can just see the tip of a barrel of a gun before it disappears off to the side. Waiting. I roll my eyes. "If I wanted to kill Kyle Reese I'm pretty sure I'd have done it the moment I saw him. You know, when all he had for protection was a pump shot gun and an unarmed mute girl." I sigh and lean my head back against the dingy stone wall, waiting.

John visibly clenches his jaw, assessing me. I don't blame him for being precautious in the least. It's a hard world we live in, and letting trust slip through your hands for anyone to catch is never a good idea. I set my jaw with just as much determination and repeat lines from the story I told them all earlier. "You said I had to watch over Kyle Reese until you told me to stop. I don't know why, but I couldn't exactly question it when you're the reason I'm still…alive-ish." Sure, I had a pulse, but I was part machine, so did that really count?

John continued to stand there, his hands behind his back, shoulders broad and strong, staring down at me with those blank eyes, a storm brewing behind his mask. There was no convincing him. I shook my head in frustration. Was I doomed to be doubted no matter what year I resided? "Look. You always used to tell me stories about some guy named Marcus. I don't know why, but that's what I remember the most. Stories about this cyborg man that did some great shit or whatever. Blair was working on studying how Cyberdyne had created him. You needed a vessel to try your little experiment on, and I was convenient."

I glanced up at him through my heavy lashes, trying to see behind the façade of carelessness he had put up to hide what he was really thinking. Without a word he turned around and left the room, leaving me there with my knees protectively pulled up, my arms wrapped around them, huddled against the wall. I most definitely looked pathetic, sitting there in the mismatched clothes they had at least scrounged up for me to wear. I gulped in desperation. I didn't want to be stuck in a windowless room for the rest of my life, however long or short that may be.

When the door opens again, hours later, it's not John Connor who's come to visit. It's the boy. Who really isn't much of a boy and more of a man than anything. I'm still in my semi-fetal position, forehead resting against my crossed arms. I lift my head to see that it's Reese and then lower it back down. Who says he'll listen any better than John, and I'm sick of wasting my words on deaf ears.

"So you're here to protect me," he stated, leaning against the portion of wall nearest the door, crossing his arms. His voice is relatively high pitched and grating, but he's got it lowered in order to sound tough. I sigh, letting my legs stretch out in front of me and my arms drop to my sides as I nod my head in reply. "I don't need a babysitter," he spits out, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

I shrug my shoulders. "I bet you don't. Too bad you're not the one calling the shots in the future." Because you're dead. Most likely because no one was there to protect you.

His mouth draws into a thin line. He doesn't know the future, but I'm sure he wishes he could have had some sort of influential position. He takes a deep breath, reaching up and removing his ratty hat before running a hand through his dirty blonde hair. "Did John really send you?" he asked, his voice wavering for a moment. He knows that if John Connor sent someone or something back to protect him, then there's some heavy shit about to hit the fan.

I nod again. "But I'm not going to babysit you," I assure him. "I think he expected me to be more of a field partner," I explain. "I already told you before; I'm a medic, and a Private, under Connor." I'm more proud of the medic status, as every person of the future is in some kind of military position. Everyone fights back somehow. No exceptions.

Kyle furrows his brow and replaces the hat to his skull. "You don't even know what you're supposed to do on this mission?" he asks skeptically, a dark shadow crossing his eyes.

"Well when John decides to be vague it's a little tricky to decipher the details, my friend," I retort, turning my palms up in a what-do-you-expect gesture.

"I believe you," he says, very quietly, after a few moments of silence.

I lift my eyes from the damp floor to meet his and I can tell he's speaking the truth. Which is good in some ways and bad in others. He's how old? Nineteen? Seventeen? And who is going to believe what he says? Then again, John is protective of him, so he could hold some swing in the verdict over whether or not I remain in limbo for much longer.

"So," he begins to talk again awkwardly. "What's your name again?" he inquires, blushing slightly, as if I'd be insulted he couldn't remember my name.

"Peth. Carter Peth," I remind him. "And you're Kyle Reese?"

He nods as well. "I find it funny that he never showed you a picture of me or anything."

"A picture of you?" I raise my eyebrow. Obviously I know what pictures are, but I didn't realize there were cameras around for civilian consumption.

Kyle shrugs and sinks down the wall into a sitting position, growing more comfortable around me already. "Well…he has a few pictures that I'm in…I just thought he might have still had them. To show you who you're supposed to…find."

I sigh. "He probably lost them throughout the years. Not on purpose. Just because of accidents and whatnot." He looked like a semi fragile boy who might be crushed if someone got rid of their pictures of him. "Maybe he just wanted to keep them to himself. In a non pediphilish way."

For the first time I see the crack of a smile on Kyle's lips as he silently chortles over my words. I shrug my shoulders and offer him up the same sort of smile. At least it's nice to know that we can stand one another. It'd have been mighty tough watching some guy that I abhorred, or that wanted nothing to do with me. He slowly pushes himself off the ground, holding up his pointer finger. "I'll be right back," he tells me before slipping through the crack in the door before it's shut tight.

I sink back against the wall, not even realizing how much I had actually perked up at a normal conversation with a kid my age. When Kyle returns a few minutes later, he's not alone. He's got Blair with him and his eyes are flitting between the two of us nervously, his hand on her elbow, as if holding her back. "Um, Peth, this is Blair."

I raise an eyebrow in amusement. "I know who Blair is."

Blair's nostrils flare for an instant and she actually appears slightly rabid, much different than the Blair I knew in the future. I gulp subconsciously and find myself shrinking away from her glare, wishing to just absorb into the wall. When Kyle lets his guard down for just a fraction of a second Blair swiftly makes her way over to me, grabbing the collar of the multiple shirts and jacket I sport, tugging me roughly up the wall to where I'm standing. My hands immediately reach up to hold onto her wrists so that her hold doesn't choke me and I barely register that Kyle is yelling out Blair's name, trying to get her to back off or calm down or something. His words are clearly hitting deaf ears.

Blair just stares at me with cold, calculating eyes that hold much more emotion than those of John's when he came in to study me. She takes in my gaping mouth and the way my breathing is shallow and the way my eyes are beginning to roll up into my head as her hold on my apparel becomes tighter and more constricting. She huffs slightly, and finally, after I don't know how long, she lets go, dropping me to the floor and letting me choke for some air. When I'm trying to catch my breath I glance up to see that she's still standing before me, her boots scuffed from wear. I let my eyes travel up to her face. She's staring down with one eyebrow raised, and then she snaps her head to look over at Kyle. "She's safe."

I furrow my brows. That's it? After nearly choking me out all she has to say is that? "What?" I gasp, still not having acquired an even breathing pattern.

Blair tilts her head down towards me again. "You're safe." She rolls her eyes at my confusion. "Do you even remember sometimes that you're part Terminator?" I'm taken aback at her question and instead choose to just blink up at her. She places one hand on her hip. "You didn't even try to defend yourself," she pointed out, knowing full well that I could have easily won in a fight, or at least pushed her away, or thrown her into the opposite wall.

"Oh," I breathe out. "Right."

She shakes her head and glares down at me with this look in her eyes as if I'm the stupidest creature to walk the planet. "And yet we sent you back to protect Reese."

"Hey," I snap in defense of myself, cautiously rising to my feet again, my legs groaning from being in a sitting position for so many hours without being allowed to stretch. "I'm a good soldier, and I can keep him…safe."

I feel as if that word has been passed around a lot in the past few minutes.

"That's what I said," she retorts before retreating from the room and leaving me alone with an awestruck Kyle.

I run a hand through my hair and gulp before offering him a crooked grin. "Don't worry," I smirk. "She mellows out with age."

Author's Note: I also realize that this chapter is much shorter than the first. However, I doubt I could continue to write 3500 word chapters and still keep you captivated...if I've even kept you captivated this far... :D

So please, leave a review with your thoughts and comments and questions. They're much appreciated.