The Fate We Made - Wait Half An Hour For Good News
Author: Art Badger
Rating: R (for Language)
Thanks to Delorita
for beta reading
Word count: 1615
Disclaimer: No ownership, no profit, etc. All credit to James Cameron, WarnerBro, McG, whoever else.Summary: Marcus has news for Connor, but of course he can't just give it to him without having some fun. Al
Note: This story is the fifth in a series (1 2 3
) set in the same world as The Fate We Made
. The series focuses on important events in Marcus Wright's life with the Resistance. Obviously it's non-movie-compliant since we cool people don't believe in cyborgs suffering death by lame.
Wait Half An Hour For Good News
The rapid-fire spray of a T-600’s mini-gun chewed into the concrete rubble that Marcus Wright had taken shelter behind. It seemed the Terminators guarding the Skynet supply depot had detected the intruders. Looking around the corner with his trusty mirror-taped-to-a-pipe, Marcus checked the position of the four 600s they were facing. Three were bearing down on Connor, Kyle, Sayles and the others. Only one of the machines was coming at him, but he was alone. He’d volunteered to scout around the side of the depot and been caught out of the group when the 600’s attacked.
Two minutes left, Marcus thought to himself while he considered the situation. He only had four grenades with him, his mini-gun and the knife Blair had given him for an anniversary gift last month. Cursing himself for going light on the firepower, Marcus loaded a magazine into the mini-gun. Though hundreds of pounds lighter and much more compact then a T-600, he was just as strong as the giant killing machines were. The huge mini-guns were nearly impossible for human soldiers to carry un-mounted, but Marcus didn’t have trouble turning Skynet’s weapons on its machines. Some of the other fighters were put off by the ease with which he toted the huge weapon and directed its fire, but most of them came around when they saw how it chewed through the machines.
Marcus threw a pair of grenades toward the trio of Terminators raining fire down on Connor’s position. He waited for the booms so the dust cloud of their explosions would cover him while he came around the edge of the rubble pile to blast away at the 600 that was pinning him down. His spray of bullets took the thing square in the torso, blasting loose bits of its hydraulics and stabilizers. He dragged the stream of fire over to the arm carrying the 600’s weapon and blasted away until the mechanisms were nothing but slag and scrap.
Howling a battle-cry Marcus charged the 600, shifting his mini-gun to his back in mid-stride. He knew that wrestling with a Terminator was a good way to get himself killed; the prototype T-800 Infiltrator back in San Francisco had taught him that. He didn’t plan on wrestling this machine, though. He ducked under its slow but deadly punch and came up behind the murderous robot. His fingers found the exposed motor cortex circuits in the back of the thing’s head and yanked them free. Disoriented, the 600 could do nothing but flail about as Marcus adjusted his grip on the metal skull, planted a foot on the thing’s pelvis and heaved.
The few seconds of distraction his grenades had bought him ran out just about the time he ripped the T-600’s skull off. A torrent of bullets from the other Terminators chased him down as he scrambled away from the wreck of the one he’d just scrapped. With a grunt, Marcus hurled himself into the air and crashed down behind his pile of rubble once more. He’d felt the impact and the momentary spikes of pain that meant he’d been hit by a few of those bullets. He hesitated for a few moments and shook his head, grinning to himself. He wasn’t hurt, but he’d have some interesting wounds on his ass to explain to Blair when he saw her next.
One minute left.
“CONNOR!” Marcus bellowed over the exchange of gunfire between the Resistance soldiers and the Terminators.
“WHAT?!” There was a pause, followed by a massive explosion as Kyle hurled some of his own grenades at the machines pinning them down.
Marcus shifted his position slightly. With the 600 that had been going for him taken care of, the three concentrating on the other soldiers were exposed to his fire.
“COVER!” He waited three seconds after yelling his warning and opened fire. The poorly armored flanks of the three remaining Terminators buckled and twisted under his steady stream of bullets, exposing delicate internal components to the lighter fire from Connor, Kyle and their team. Kyle threw another pair of grenades; the kid had a gift with explosives. Two of the Terminators staggered and fell, the red glow of their optics dimming. The last remained standing, mindlessly advancing on the rubble pile the humans crouched behind.
“I’M A BIT BUSY, WRIGHT!” Marcus shook his head. It was just one Terminator left. No big deal.
“KATE HAD A MESSAGE FOR YOU” He figured that’d get Connor’s attention.
“SHE ORDERED YOU TO GET YOUR ASS BACK TO BASE IN ONE PIECE, CONNOR!” Marcus broke off as the damaged 600 swung its gun his way and sprayed him with lead. The other soldiers took advantage and pounded it with fire as its back was turned. From the lack of further large explosions, Marcus guessed that Kyle had run out of grenades.
When the 600’s mini-gun clicked empty, there was a pause as the machine evaluated its choices and the Resistance fighters reloaded.
“SHE’S HAVING ANOTHER BABY.” Message delivered precisely half an hour after Kate had radioed their team and gotten patched through to him. Marcus grinned to himself as he leapt over his rubble pile and joined the others in blasting the final machine to scrap metal.
As the machine died, Connor and the others emerged from behind their own bits of rubble and debris. Connor’s face was flushed and he looked ready to spit bullets.
“You waited until the middle of a fucking fire fight with four Terminators to tell me that my wife is pregnant? When in God’s name did you even get a chance to talk to her!” Marcus’s bland expression didn’t seem to be helping Connor’s temper.
“She radioed just before we left for this scouting run. We couldn’t raise you, so I took the message. I told her I’d give it to you. I did. What’s the problem?” Marcus let his usual grin creep across his face as Connor turned a deeper shade of red and stalked toward him.
“That was almost half an hour ago!” Connor towered over Marcus, yelling down at the shorter man. Usually no one noticed that Marcus was a bit below average height. Not many people were willing to get close enough to him to compare and he always seemed to fill up more space then his body actually occupied. Connor was mad enough that he kept stalking closer until he was almost toe to toe with the more compact cyborg.
“Thirty minutes and” Marcus paused “52 seconds ago.”
The moment Connor realized what was going on, his hand tightened on his rifle and it started to swing into line with Marcus’s chest until Kyle darted forward and hauled it back down.
“Relax, Connor. He did tell you, after all. And we’re all fine. You’ll be seeing Kate in a few hours, once we gather the supplies and get back to base.” Kyle’s gift for calm, reasonable tones and soothing words had helped diffuse a number of tense situations between fighters in Connor’s unit before. Connor lowered the gun and let it fall to his side. He took a deep breath.
A few seconds later Marcus was roaring with laughter as Connor cursed him with every foul word he’d ever heard or thought of. Every slur against the machines, every insult that had been hurled at Marcus by the men and women that hated and feared him for his differences was spat out between streams of more generic curses and expletives.
Kyle shook his head at both of them as he wrapped Connor’s injured fist with the bandages from his first aid kit.
“You’re lucky you didn’t break your hand, Connor.” Kyle grumbled as he tied off the dressing. “You ought to know better then to punch him like that. What the hell is going on with you two anyway?”
Connor continued to curse at Marcus, quieter now. Still chuckling, Marcus explained.
“Connor made me swear that if I ever had really good news, I’d wait half an hour after getting it before I told him unless I was sure he was wearing body armor.”
“I didn’t expect you to take it literally! Fucking robot.” Connor was still angry, but his mouth twitched as he spat the insult, hiding a grin.
“Why not? Last time I gave you good news right off, you ended up in the infirmary for X-rays.” Marcus laughed again at the memory.
“What? What’d you do to him, Marcus?” Kyle was shocked. He didn’t think Marcus would ever hurt Connor, but then until a few minutes ago he hadn’t thought he’d ever see Connor pull a gun on the cyborg either.
“Bruised three of my damn ribs. I was there when he got the news that Blair was pregnant with Tyler. Couldn’t even breathe to tell him he was about to break my spine he had me in such a bear hug.” Connor’s growl was more then half simulated now and he wasn’t cursing.
Kyle snorted, restraining himself. “So you made him promise to wait for good news to avoid being hugged to death?”
That description of events sent Marcus back into howls of laughter while Connor glowered darkly at the pair of them.
“It made a great deal more sense when I was on the morphine. Assholes. Both of you.”
Connor gave the bandage on his hand a tug to make sure it was on properly then stomped his way back to the rest of the soldiers who were organizing the supplies taken from the Skynet depot. He was already yelling at them to be ready for an airlift in 20 minutes.