When a rose dies, a thorn is left behind. It was a quote from Ovidius that had popped into John Connor’s head the moment the confirmation had come that IntelliTech Base had been under siege. It refused to leave because it could never be closer to the truth.
His beloved mother, his best fighter was dead, and he had done nothing to prevent it. He could have ordered the evacuation of IntelliTech Base. The only thing he had done had been to give Tyler the name of the future traitor. And as to be expected, Tyler had killed the young man in cold blood right here at Home Plate.
His best friend, and one of the best fighters after his mother, was fighting for his life once again. No mortal man could have survived the injuries Tyler had sustained in the early hours of this cold December day, but Tyler wasn’t exactly any mortal man. The nanoattrioids had made him stronger, smarter, faster.
A hundred thoughts accompanied by a thousand questions threw his mind into chaos. Could he ever have stopped it? And if Palters had not been able to betray IT Base, who had given its exact location away instead? Who had put the future, as he had been told, back on track?
The idea of the nanoattrioids pushed itself prominently forwards in his thoughts. Had it been Tyler? Had he unknowingly given Skynet the coordinates to his own base? They knew so little about the nanoattrioids. What if Tyler had been a beacon for Skynet?
“You okay, John?” Her gentle voice scattered his thoughts even more.
He closed the communication line and slowly turned towards her: “I’m fine,” he answered gruffly.
He didn’t care for the hurt look on her face. He didn’t care that she looked like she could break down in tears at the harshness of his voice. He simply did not care anymore.

Whispers in the tunnel had told her of the fall of the Resistance most secret base, and she had gone to see if he needed something or would simply like some company. He was still her mentor. He was still her friend.
“John,” she said softly, hoping to keep her hurt from her voice. “Whatever happened at that Base, it wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was. I knew it would happen and I did nothing,” he growled. “I let all those good people die because I thought I had fixed it.”
She remained silent and tried to figure out what she could possibly do or say to make him feel better. It hurt her immensely to see him so broken-hearted.
“Goes to show that mom was right. No one is ever safe,” he whispered, burying his face in his hands.
“John,” she mumbled upset because he was so upset.
Her amorous feelings for him had not subsided over the years. In fact they had only grown stronger. She would lay awake during the afternoon, thinking about him, while her friends Luce and Robin giggled over boys and men. She would daydream about him, hoping that one day he would see how she really felt about him and that he would return those feelings.

His eyes snapped open and he blinked against the bright light streaming into the room through the small barred window. While trying to catch his breath now that he had reached the surface again, he took in his surroundings. He was in a small room, empty of all furnishings, except for a bed, a stainless steel sink, toilet and a metal mirror. White ceiling, white walls and polished white tile floor.
“Sure took you a long time to wake,” a familiar female voice said haughtily from across the room.
He propped himself up on his elbows and looked into the direction the voice had come from. Against the wall leaned Sarah, dressed in a white tank top and white hospital pants, wearing white boat shoes without laces.
“Connor?” He asked slowly, hoping his eyes were not deceiving him.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head: “Who else?” She countered with a grim smile while she folded her arms across her chest.
“What is this place?”
“Silberman fried your brain again?”
Silberman, her outfit, the cell. Pescadero State Hospital. Dr. Silberman had re-introduced E.C.T.[1] to treat patients with acute schizo-affective disorder, something he had diagnosed Sarah with. She had told him about her electrifying experiences after he had been infected with the nanoattrioids.
“No,” he answered slowly. “Nano’s.”
She heaved a deeply annoyed sigh and shook her head again: “Haven’t you learned anything yet? Tell them what they want to hear, and they’ll go easy on you.”
“Like you ever did that. You told the truth and they treated you if you were less than animal,” he had said it before he had actually thought about it.
“Stop talking about me in the past tense,” she hissed suddenly, her green eyes intense and wild. “I hate it when you do that.”
Suddenly she became ultra-alert and turned her head to face the door: “The weasel’s coming.”
Weasel. Silberman. Sarah had never had a kind word for the man, and after his own experiences with the doctor he could understand why.
He looked at her again. She was in her late twenties, early thirties and his heart swelled with pain until it felt like it was going to burst. He had seen her die.
“I guess visiting hours are over,” she grumbled, taking a defence stance when keys in the lock could be heard.
“Visiting hours?” He asked while he scratched himself behind his left ear.
“The snake must have really fried your brains last time,” she answered sarcastically.
The door was opened and Dr. Silberman entered with four orderlies easing in behind him.
“Easy, Connor, Devlin. Don’t make a scene like last time now,” Dr. Silberman said silkily. “I’ve already been kind enough to let you visit each other,” he added with a sly, knowing smile. “No need for a long goodbye… Jeffrey, Douglas, will you escort Miss Connor back to her wing?”
He watched as Sarah backed away into the furthest corner of the cell, the look of a cornered animal coming over her. Feral, focused on escaping this hellhole.
“Come on now, Sarah. We don’t want any trouble,” Douglas smiled maliciously, taking the baton off of his belt. “Nice and easy.”
Tyler felt his temper rise as the orderly showed his authority by waving the baton at Sarah to provoke her. The two other orderlies approached him quickly, showing him their stun tazers in the hopes it would make him cooperate. His muscles tensed while he kept an eye on Douglas and Jeffrey, ready to attack them if they were to hurt her.
“Douglas,” Dr. Silberman chuckled amused. “No rousing the patients. Just bring Miss Connor back to her cell and make sure that she takes her meds.”
With these words, Dr. Silberman turned back and left the cell. Tyler had caught that twisted grin. That quack of a psychologist knew that the orderly named Douglas would make trouble. It would not even surprise him if the doctor had put Douglas up to it.
“Come on now, Sarah. Let’s go,” Douglas grinned while he grabbed her firmly by the upper arm with his free hand and started pulling her with him.
Instinctively Tyler jumped to his feet, only to be pushed back on the bed by the orderlies assigned to keep him under control. He looked from one orderly to the other. They had their drive stun tazers at hand, ready for anything he might try.
“Let go of me!” Sarah hissed through gritted teeth while she tried to yank herself out of his grip.
Without a signal upfront, Douglas pulled his hand with the baton back and took a hard swing at Sarah’s stomach. She doubled over and fell to her hands and knees, gasping, struggling to catch a full breath.
He caught the grimace on her face as she turned her head a little to look at him. With a loud howl he jumped up, punched the orderly closest to him square on the nose before hitting the other square on the jaw. Both orderlies went down like bricks. Douglas looked at him like deer caught in headlights when he glared at him.
“Take on someone your own size,” he growled furiously. “Well, at least someone more your size, fat ass.”
He was so focused on Douglas that he didn’t notice Jeffrey take out his drive stun tazer and approach him. Douglas did a step back when he did a step forward, only to get a full blow from Jeffrey’s nightstick in the stomach. Standing doubled over to catch his breathe, he soon felt a drive stun tazer being pushed right between his shoulder blades.
A hundred-thousand Volts set his mind on fire, leaving his body writhing in pain. A set of glaring red eyes stared at him from an eternal darkness.

“Damn, he’s strong!” Ethan exclaimed while he tried to keep their patient pinned to the makeshift operating table.
“I could’ve told you that,” Robin remarked wryly while she tightened the restraint over their patient’s stomach again.
“The nanoattrioids, right?” Ethan panted from his efforts.
“Yes, we pumped him full of that shit four years ago, and now we’re gonna pump him full of it some more,” she grumbled annoyed.
“You don’t sound too happy about it,” he sighed. “It will save him, you know that, don’t you?”
“I wish C would just let him die,” she answered with a profound sadness in her voice.
“Sounds harsh, but C wants him alive and kicking,” he said slowly.
“Like C even cares about him. Manipulative son of a bitch,” she seethed through gritted teeth. “He knew this was coming and he did nothing.”
“Robin,” he tried to call her to order when he caught one of the Privates looking very interested in the conversation.
“I don’t give a damn, Ethan. C is a manipulative, egotistical bastard, who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the people who die and who will die for him.”
“Robin! Just listen to yourself. C gives us everything we need to save this guy and you go off on a rant-”
“C needs this guy in the past. And it’s not like he’s gonna shoot me,” she interrupted him while she tightened the restraints that bound their patient’s legs to the table.
“You don’t know that,” he sighed.
“But I do. He won’t shoot me because I still have a mission to accomplish,” she said cynically.
“Yeah, and as soon as you’ve saved this guy’s life and he is out of the danger zone, C will put a bullet right between your eyes,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Not if he wants this guy to become one of his best fighters, he won’t,” she countered in a knowing manner.
He raised an eyebrow and looked at her curiously: “You really gonna let him die if C threatens to kill you?”
“Let’s say I know something that will keep me alive,” she remarked cryptically before she turned to the curious Private and said. “You can tell your precious General that he is a selfish idiot.”

When he came to again, he found himself shackled to the bed. The pale bluish moon cast its ghostly glow on the walls of the cell. Someone cupped his left cheek and he turned his head a little to see her sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Connor?” He asked in a whisper.
She showed him her slow smile, and his heart ached. He had no idea how he had ended up here but he knew that this world wasn’t real. She had died in his arms.
“Connor-”
She pressed her index finger to his lips to quiet him: “Don’t talk.”
Slowly she took her index finger away and leaned over him. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but she silenced him with a kiss. It felt like someone pulled a band over his chest and started to tighten it. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes. This was not real: she was gone. She was gone for good.
“You’re a trickster,” he panted as the band on his chest withheld him from catching a full breath. “You’re… dead.”
That slow smile again. Electric arcs exploded in his mind and his head began to hurt like it had never hurt before. She brought her mouth close to his ear: “I love you, Devlin. Remember that,” she whispered barely audible before pressing a kiss on his earlobe.
Her right hand softly cupped his left cheek, gently rubbing his cheekbone with her thumb. She looked him in the eye again and smiled crookedly. Slowly she backed away until she stood straight at the side of his bed.
Just like before she was dressed in a white tank top and white hospital pants, but this time she was barefoot. Slowly he looked up at her face, at the wild locks of dark hair that surrounded it. The band on his chest kept getting tighter and tighter the longer he looked at her. He closed his eyes, unable to look at her any longer. She had died. And he had failed her.
When he opened his eyes again, she was gone. He strained all his muscles and felt the restraints that kept him bound. In defeat he threw his head back and looked upwards. The ceiling faded into total darkness, through which a pair of glaring red eyes stared intently at him.