FIC: But My Soul
Mar. 19th, 2010 11:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ficwizeTitle: But My Soul
Fandom: Terminator Salvation
Warnings: Mild sexual content
Rating: Teen
Summary: Kyle needed Marcus and he didn't even know it.
Disclaimer: I own neither fandom and make no money doing this.
A/N: This is dedicated to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
i_want_2. I am *so so sorry* that I'm late. I stumbled into more than I could chew for a while in my personal life. I hope you enjoy this!
Many thanks to gega cai for the beta. Any remaining fail is because of me!
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
*************
"Twas not my lips you kissed, but my soul."
~Judy Garland
Kyle stared at the dirt under his face and held his breath. If he craned his head a fraction to the right, he could see Star. She also lay in the dirt, but her eyes were screwed tightly closed. Kyle couldn't blame her. He didn't want to see Death coming either. Whirring noises overhead made them both hold their breaths and spotlights flashed over the ground, searching, always searching.
Next time, Kyle swore, they'd go hungry. Starvation was an ugly death, but Kyle thought it might be better than whatever the Machines did to their victims. They stayed frozen in place for an hour, two, then as suddenly as the Machines arrived, they vanished.
"Star," Kyle hissed, climbing to his feet stiffly. His whole body ached, but he forced it to move. Grabbing Star's arm, he helped the little girl to her feet and they dashed into the nearest sewer opening, Kyle sliding in first and turning to help Star drop to the ground. Mud squelched under their feet and the scuttled down the tunnel, turning left and dashing into what used to be a utility closet. Kyle thought it was cozy and he flopped down onto his blankets with a whoosh.
"That was too close," he said to Star. The little girl nodded at him, then held up the rabbit that had prompted their venture out. He shoved up his goggles and yanked down the cloth covering his mouth, revealing a grin. "This is why I keep you around."
The little girl smiled back slowly and they sat down to prepare their rabbit. Gutting and cleaning it took hardly any time. The vermin weren't eating that much better than the humans. "Tomorrow," Kyle said, more to hear his own voice than with any real expectation that Star would answer. "I think we should rig a few more traps. There's a tall building in the middle of town that would be ideal to set up some Crushers."
Star nodded, her deft fingers busy scraping as much meat from the hide as possible into a bowl that would soon hold stew. "It'll take a while, but if we can even nail one of the bastard things… it'll be worth it."
Kyle let Star work on the rabbit as he turned his attention to cleaning his gun. His father had taught him that, to keep his weapon ready and on hand. Careful to not let Star see, Kyle opened the box of ammunition and counted. They would need more.
He finished quickly, making sure that his weapon was reloaded. Then he turned his attention to his jacket. It was torn, but mendable. His father had taught him that, too. How to use a needle and threat, more often than not such lesson taking place in flesh rather than fabric.
By the time he'd mended his coat, Star pressed a cup into his hand and Kyle gratefully took it. They'd given up the luxury of utensils a long time ago, but stew tasted as good out of a cup as it did with a bowl and spoon. They ate in silence, not unusual considering Star's refusal to speak, and Kyle's thoughts wandered between his plans to build more traps, thoughts of his father, and the realization that rabbit stew was pretty tasty.
"You know, Star, this might ha been worth risking death after all." Kyle commented softly, earning another smile and a nod of agreement. Playfully, Kyle reached over to tug her hair, then he sat back to eat. They had long ago made the rule that when they had fresh food, they should eat until they were full. No point in saving it to spoil when they weren't sure they'd make it to the next day anyway.
Star finished her meal first, moving to wash out the dishes before she pulled off her own thin coat to mend it. Kyle passed over the needle and threat wordlessly. Star was old enough to keep herself alive, as she had proven time and again.
The light in the tunnel faded, the elaborate system of mirrors he and Star had set up couldn't provide light without sun. "I miss electricity," Kyle muttered. Star ignored him, moving closer to the door to take advantage of the last of the light to mend her coat. Even in L.A., the nights were cold.
Half an hour later, it was too dark to do anything but sleep, so that's what they did. Kyle slept with his gun under his hand, closest to the door. Star slept nearest the vent that served as their emergency exit. "I wish we had a dog," Kyle muttered again, just before falling asleep. Star didn't answer, but even in the dark he knew that she nodded. They hadn't slept well since the old mutt that they had found died six months back.
*******************
Kyle woke up when a beam of sun hit his face. Squinting, he lay still for a while longer as dawn broke outside. Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer and he rolled over. As quietly as he could, he got to his feet and shuffled down the hallway until he reached the latrine he'd dug when they'd set up their base here. He could see the sunrise over the ruins of the city and he frowned. He'd seen pictures of what Los Angeles looked like before Judgment Day and he could remember his father telling him about the time when there were literally millions of people living in the city.
Kyle couldn't even imagine hundreds of people in one place. He hadn't seen that many people since he was a young boy. Finishing, Kyle turned to go back to their room. His belly rumbled loudly and the thought of the left over rabbit stew put an extra spring in his step. He had rigged up their camp stove and heated the stew by the time Star rolled over.
She woke up like she always did – abruptly and violently. One moment she was asleep, the next she was sitting up and breathing hard. The stark fear in her eyes, and the silent scream that died on her tongue, always made Kyle feel a little sick. He didn't show it, though, instead forcing a smile.
"Stew?" He held out a tin cup and after a moment, Star shook off her paralysis and took it slowly. Kyle held still until her shoulders finally slumped, wondering for the hundredth time what happened to her to make her the way she was. He had found her wandering alone at night, hence the name he'd bestowed upon her when she wouldn't talk. The only thing she had with her was a hat that was covered in blood. It had taken her weeks to wash it clean.
They ate in silence for a while, then Kyle cleared his throat. "I think it might be time to move on, Star. That Aerostat was looking for something. The Machines might have realized we're hiding near here."
Sky watched him carefully as he spoke, then nodded her head once. Encouraged, Kyle continued. "I think I know where we can go, too. Griffith Observatory. It still has the roof intact and the windows will be great lookouts. Plus, I don't think the Machines go up there very often."
Star nodded again, visibly brightening and Kyle grinned. "No more utility closets. Promise."
They spent the rest of the day packing up their supplies. They didn't have much, but Kyle wanted to leave the utility closet in good shape in case they ever needed a hiding space. They packed carefully, determined to make the move in one trip. Weapons first, then clothes and medical supplies. The last items to be packed were those sentimental things that couldn't be left behind. Star's hat. Kyle's father's radio.
"Ready, soldier?" Kyle whispered, nervous now that the time had come to leave their safe place. Star nodded, solemnly. She held a small pistol in her hands and Kyle picked up the shotgun. "Let's go."
The sun was at its high point when they finally emerged from the tunnels. It promised the safety that came with the knowledge that the heat trapped in the concrete would make the use of heat sensors more difficult and it threatened with the fact that there were few shadows to hide in.
Kyle had always found it the best time of day to move around. Star travelled fast, her footsteps falling almost directly behind his as he walked. He kept his head up, his eyes and ears open, but he didn't run. Faster movement was more obvious. Kyle had already decided that they would go in via Griffith Park. The cover of trees would be useful in hiding and it didn't hurt that they might find something to eat there.
Most of the landscape was rubble, courtesy of Judgment Day, but enough of it was uneven to make hiking tricky. Kyle and Star scrambled over or around obstacles, both at high alert, both waiting to signal their bodies to run. By the time they reached the outer rim of the woods, Kyle ached with exhaustion. For a while, they hid in what used to be an office building and scanned the woods.
Nothing. There didn't seem to be any movement and Kyle shook his head, warily. Then Star tugged his sleeve and pointed. Following her gaze, Kyle relaxed. Birds. They hopped along the ground, picking at whatever seeds they could find. The birds wouldn't stay if there was a Machine around.
After the rugged and dusty streets of L.A., the woods were a delight. Kyle tugged down the cloth over his face and took a deep breath of clean air. The shade overhead felt cool and relaxing and he grinned at Star. She held out a water canteen and Kyle drank thirstily before passing it back.
Their feet didn't echo inside the woods, Kyle noted with interest. The leaves and grass muffled every footfall and they crept silently through the trees. The signs of wildlife were of even more interest and he noted that Star was staring at several squirrel nests intently. Squirrel wasn't his favorite, but it was a hell of a lot better than hunger pangs.
They reached the old museum in mid-afternoon. Both of them had been this far in their hunts, but it had been awhile since they'd ventured inside. It was better than Kyle had dared hope. The roof had survived Judgment Day and the windows were all intact. "No breezes at night," Kyle said gleefully and Star smiled in answer. In short order they had set up their Headquarters and Kyle sat back on his heels and studied it critically. "The Resistance Los Angeles Branch is moving up in the world," he finally said in approval and Star nodded firmly.
*******************
"HEY!"
The shout made Kyle whip around, his head moving fast enough to give him whiplash. He was running before his conscious mind could register what it meant. Abandoning his usual caution, Kyle hurtled over the rubble that blocked his way, nearly falling a dozen times, but managing to keep his feet.
"HEY!" The shout was more insistent now and the sound of another human voice made Kyle's heart constrict in both fear and longing. Rounding the corner, he saw a man standing in the middle of the road, foolishly staring as a Terminator hunted him. The man wore the Red Mark of a Resistance Fighter and Kyle almost halted in disbelief.
Instead, Kyle threw everything to chance and raced Death towards the idiot who still didn't have the brains to run. The Terminator started firing shots and Kyle jumped slamming into the most solid flesh he'd ever felt in his life. The guy had half turned when he'd sensed Kyle's approach and he took most of the brunt of their fall, but that suited Kyle just fine. He already didn't know how he was going to keep them both alive, but he certainly didn't have time to lie on the concrete and gravel gasping for air like a fish out of water.
They rolled, both on their feet faster than should have been possible and Kyle stared at the stranger in amazement. He was tall, solid, and completely without the starved and fearful look that Kyle remembered on the face of every other survivor. He often looked back at them with his own expression of fear. Mouth suddenly dry, Kyle pulled the stranger against the side of an overturned car. Lashing out with one hand, he sprung a trap that Star had silently made fun of him for setting. To his absolute amazement, it worked and the Terminator swung suspended in the air.
Shoving his goggles up and yanking down the bandanna covering his mouth, Kyle blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Come with me if you want to live," Kyle managed, feeling foolish and melodramatic. The man's eyes indicated his skepticism, but the Terminator bearing down on them proved more convincing than Kyle's dire warning and they ran together. Down one block, east two blocks, towards the old toy factory. The Machine gave chase, as Kyle knew it would and he spared some of his mental energy to send a prayer into the cosmos that his plan would work and he wasn't bringing their deaths down on all their heads.
Explosions behind him told him that the Machine had broken free and was giving chase and he sprinted up the metal stairs that lead to the roof of the old toy factory. The stranger stayed hard on his heels. Hitting the roof at a sprint, Kyle signaled to Star that she should drop the crusher and grabbed his rifle.
The stranger bolted to the roofline to watch the remnants of a car's body fall and crush the Terminator and Kyle pointed the rifle in his hand at the man without any further thought. Three minutes later, he foolishly wondered how he'd ever thought he'd survive the War when he couldn't even keep an idiot man who willingly faced down a Terminator from stealing his rifle.
The trip back to their new hideout was stilted and quiet. Kyle brought up the rear, content to let Star lead the way. He couldn't take his eyes off Marcus.
An hour later, Kyle watched in amusement as Marcus choked down a bite of coyote. "It's an acquired taste," Kyle said softly.
"Must be," Marcus answered and Kyle again felt amazement flow through him. How long had it been since he'd heard another human voice? Marcus noticed his reaction and Kyle looked away, embarrassed and finished eating.
"Come here," Marcus finally said and Kyle looked up to see him holding the rifle. Alarmed, he sprang to his feet cursing himself for ten types of a fool to let a total stranger have access to their only real weapon. "Try and take the rifle from me."
Fair enough, Kyle thought grimly and repeating Marcus' movement from earlier, snatched the gun. It fell out of his hands abruptly and Kyle blinked in amazement. Marcus held up the rifle with the string attaching it to his wrist.
"This will keep anyone from taking your gun." Marcus stated the obvious and Kyle flushed with embarrassment. "What were you talking about earlier? What's the Resistance?"
"Humans who fight the Machines," Kyle answered shortly, reminded again that Marcus must be crazy. How else would he not know anything about the world? "The Red Mark on your arm is a symbol of a Resistance Fighter."
"Why don't you wear one?"
Kyle looked up from where he'd sat back down and glared at Marcus. "I haven't earned mine yet." Star glanced at him, her expression unreadable and Kyle looked back down. His remark was the sort of comment that ended conversations and eh didn't want that. More than anything, despite that fact that Marcus was certifiable and despite the fact that he made Kyle feel small and stupid, Kyle didn't want him to stop talking.
"I need a way out of here."
"Walk," Kyle snapped.
"Something faster than that," Marcus replied, almost as if her were oblivious to the tension in Kyle's voice. "A car."
"Some in the parking lot but they don't work." Kyle muttered. His heart sank, but he wouldn't let Marcus know how much Kyle already dreaded being left in a silent world again. Marcus eyed him thoughtfully, then moved over to the radio.
"It doesn't work," Kyle snapped again, moving to take the dinner plates and wash them. Marcus ignored him completely, instead talking to Star who helpfully aided as the older man dismantled the radio. "My dad tried, but he couldn't get it working again."
This time Marcus let the sounds of his work answer and Kyle rolled his eyes. When static suddenly exploded from the microphone in Star's hand, Kyle nearly dropped the plate he still held. The static cleared and Kyle heard another voice echoing out at him. For the second time that day, his world changed.
*******************
"Why don't you know about the Machines and the War?" Kyle whispered. Even in the darkness, he could hear Marcus shift to look at him and he wondered how much the other man could see. It was dark enough that Kyle could only see a blurred movement if he strained his eyes.
"I died," Marcus finally answered, voice strained. Something in his tone indicated that he was telling the truth and Kyle stiffened.
"Memory loss?"
"Something like that." Marcus replied gruffly.
"What's the last thing you do remember?"
"Serena." The name floated out in the dark.
"Who's that?"
"The last person I ever kissed." Marcus said softly, then he chuckled. "I sold my soul for that kiss."
"You're not making any sense." Kyle rolled over, surprised to realize just how close Marcus was to him, and wondered when the other man had moved.
"Don't you know what it's like to want to kiss someone so badly that you'd do anything for her? Even, apparently, jump through time?"
Kyle scowled. "Now you're really not making any sense. And in case you haven’t noticed, there aren't a lot of single women roaming around here." He paused. "Men either." A grunt was the only answer he got. "The last person who kissed me was my father and he kissed my forehead every night, including the night before he died."
Kyle had no idea what possessed him to say that, but he heard Marcus suck in a breath. "How'd he die?"
"How do you think?" Kyle answered sharply. "A fucking Machine."
"I'm sorry," Marcus' voice whispered softly. "You've been alone since?"
"Star." Kyle shook his head and sat up, feeling more than seeing Marcus do the same.
"She doesn't say much."
"PTSD, I'd guess." Kyle shrugged, mouth twisting into a smile. "Don't blame her. There's lots to be stressed over."
"I see your point." Marcus answered after a second. "Why did you save me? You could have been killed and she'd have been left all alone."
The bluntness of the question caught Kyle by surprise and he swallowed. "I probably should have let you die, but…"
"But?" Marcus prompted.
"You're human." Kyle finally answered. "I couldn't let you die, because you're human. When I heard your voice earlier, I thought… I thought maybe I was dead and you were an angel calling me. But then you just turned out to be some crazy man acting like Terminator-bait."
"No one has ever mistaken me for an angel before," Marcus laughed and Kyle smiled.
"Don't get used to it. Angels would smell better."
Warm lips sealed over Kyle's and he froze. Marcus' hand cupped his jaw firmly, a thumb pressing on his chin lightly until Kyle opened his mouth. Marcus' tongue slipped inside, sending a jolt of fear and arousal to Kyle's core and he broke away, shaking.
"Why did you do that?"
"I don't know." Marcus admitted. "It felt right. End one life with a kiss, start the next the same way. It had nice symmetry."
Kyle reached up to touch his lips with trembling fingers and didn't answer. After a long time, he heard Marcus' breath settle into even puffs and he closed his eyes, heedless of the tears that slipped from under his lids and tracked down his cheeks. Marcus may have sold his soul for a kiss, but surely he'd bought it back with this one.
Kyle hoped so.
Fandom: Terminator Salvation
Warnings: Mild sexual content
Rating: Teen
Summary: Kyle needed Marcus and he didn't even know it.
Disclaimer: I own neither fandom and make no money doing this.
A/N: This is dedicated to
i_want_2. I am *so so sorry* that I'm late. I stumbled into more than I could chew for a while in my personal life. I hope you enjoy this!Many thanks to gega cai for the beta. Any remaining fail is because of me!
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
*************
"Twas not my lips you kissed, but my soul."
~Judy Garland
Kyle stared at the dirt under his face and held his breath. If he craned his head a fraction to the right, he could see Star. She also lay in the dirt, but her eyes were screwed tightly closed. Kyle couldn't blame her. He didn't want to see Death coming either. Whirring noises overhead made them both hold their breaths and spotlights flashed over the ground, searching, always searching.
Next time, Kyle swore, they'd go hungry. Starvation was an ugly death, but Kyle thought it might be better than whatever the Machines did to their victims. They stayed frozen in place for an hour, two, then as suddenly as the Machines arrived, they vanished.
"Star," Kyle hissed, climbing to his feet stiffly. His whole body ached, but he forced it to move. Grabbing Star's arm, he helped the little girl to her feet and they dashed into the nearest sewer opening, Kyle sliding in first and turning to help Star drop to the ground. Mud squelched under their feet and the scuttled down the tunnel, turning left and dashing into what used to be a utility closet. Kyle thought it was cozy and he flopped down onto his blankets with a whoosh.
"That was too close," he said to Star. The little girl nodded at him, then held up the rabbit that had prompted their venture out. He shoved up his goggles and yanked down the cloth covering his mouth, revealing a grin. "This is why I keep you around."
The little girl smiled back slowly and they sat down to prepare their rabbit. Gutting and cleaning it took hardly any time. The vermin weren't eating that much better than the humans. "Tomorrow," Kyle said, more to hear his own voice than with any real expectation that Star would answer. "I think we should rig a few more traps. There's a tall building in the middle of town that would be ideal to set up some Crushers."
Star nodded, her deft fingers busy scraping as much meat from the hide as possible into a bowl that would soon hold stew. "It'll take a while, but if we can even nail one of the bastard things… it'll be worth it."
Kyle let Star work on the rabbit as he turned his attention to cleaning his gun. His father had taught him that, to keep his weapon ready and on hand. Careful to not let Star see, Kyle opened the box of ammunition and counted. They would need more.
He finished quickly, making sure that his weapon was reloaded. Then he turned his attention to his jacket. It was torn, but mendable. His father had taught him that, too. How to use a needle and threat, more often than not such lesson taking place in flesh rather than fabric.
By the time he'd mended his coat, Star pressed a cup into his hand and Kyle gratefully took it. They'd given up the luxury of utensils a long time ago, but stew tasted as good out of a cup as it did with a bowl and spoon. They ate in silence, not unusual considering Star's refusal to speak, and Kyle's thoughts wandered between his plans to build more traps, thoughts of his father, and the realization that rabbit stew was pretty tasty.
"You know, Star, this might ha been worth risking death after all." Kyle commented softly, earning another smile and a nod of agreement. Playfully, Kyle reached over to tug her hair, then he sat back to eat. They had long ago made the rule that when they had fresh food, they should eat until they were full. No point in saving it to spoil when they weren't sure they'd make it to the next day anyway.
Star finished her meal first, moving to wash out the dishes before she pulled off her own thin coat to mend it. Kyle passed over the needle and threat wordlessly. Star was old enough to keep herself alive, as she had proven time and again.
The light in the tunnel faded, the elaborate system of mirrors he and Star had set up couldn't provide light without sun. "I miss electricity," Kyle muttered. Star ignored him, moving closer to the door to take advantage of the last of the light to mend her coat. Even in L.A., the nights were cold.
Half an hour later, it was too dark to do anything but sleep, so that's what they did. Kyle slept with his gun under his hand, closest to the door. Star slept nearest the vent that served as their emergency exit. "I wish we had a dog," Kyle muttered again, just before falling asleep. Star didn't answer, but even in the dark he knew that she nodded. They hadn't slept well since the old mutt that they had found died six months back.
Kyle woke up when a beam of sun hit his face. Squinting, he lay still for a while longer as dawn broke outside. Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer and he rolled over. As quietly as he could, he got to his feet and shuffled down the hallway until he reached the latrine he'd dug when they'd set up their base here. He could see the sunrise over the ruins of the city and he frowned. He'd seen pictures of what Los Angeles looked like before Judgment Day and he could remember his father telling him about the time when there were literally millions of people living in the city.
Kyle couldn't even imagine hundreds of people in one place. He hadn't seen that many people since he was a young boy. Finishing, Kyle turned to go back to their room. His belly rumbled loudly and the thought of the left over rabbit stew put an extra spring in his step. He had rigged up their camp stove and heated the stew by the time Star rolled over.
She woke up like she always did – abruptly and violently. One moment she was asleep, the next she was sitting up and breathing hard. The stark fear in her eyes, and the silent scream that died on her tongue, always made Kyle feel a little sick. He didn't show it, though, instead forcing a smile.
"Stew?" He held out a tin cup and after a moment, Star shook off her paralysis and took it slowly. Kyle held still until her shoulders finally slumped, wondering for the hundredth time what happened to her to make her the way she was. He had found her wandering alone at night, hence the name he'd bestowed upon her when she wouldn't talk. The only thing she had with her was a hat that was covered in blood. It had taken her weeks to wash it clean.
They ate in silence for a while, then Kyle cleared his throat. "I think it might be time to move on, Star. That Aerostat was looking for something. The Machines might have realized we're hiding near here."
Sky watched him carefully as he spoke, then nodded her head once. Encouraged, Kyle continued. "I think I know where we can go, too. Griffith Observatory. It still has the roof intact and the windows will be great lookouts. Plus, I don't think the Machines go up there very often."
Star nodded again, visibly brightening and Kyle grinned. "No more utility closets. Promise."
They spent the rest of the day packing up their supplies. They didn't have much, but Kyle wanted to leave the utility closet in good shape in case they ever needed a hiding space. They packed carefully, determined to make the move in one trip. Weapons first, then clothes and medical supplies. The last items to be packed were those sentimental things that couldn't be left behind. Star's hat. Kyle's father's radio.
"Ready, soldier?" Kyle whispered, nervous now that the time had come to leave their safe place. Star nodded, solemnly. She held a small pistol in her hands and Kyle picked up the shotgun. "Let's go."
The sun was at its high point when they finally emerged from the tunnels. It promised the safety that came with the knowledge that the heat trapped in the concrete would make the use of heat sensors more difficult and it threatened with the fact that there were few shadows to hide in.
Kyle had always found it the best time of day to move around. Star travelled fast, her footsteps falling almost directly behind his as he walked. He kept his head up, his eyes and ears open, but he didn't run. Faster movement was more obvious. Kyle had already decided that they would go in via Griffith Park. The cover of trees would be useful in hiding and it didn't hurt that they might find something to eat there.
Most of the landscape was rubble, courtesy of Judgment Day, but enough of it was uneven to make hiking tricky. Kyle and Star scrambled over or around obstacles, both at high alert, both waiting to signal their bodies to run. By the time they reached the outer rim of the woods, Kyle ached with exhaustion. For a while, they hid in what used to be an office building and scanned the woods.
Nothing. There didn't seem to be any movement and Kyle shook his head, warily. Then Star tugged his sleeve and pointed. Following her gaze, Kyle relaxed. Birds. They hopped along the ground, picking at whatever seeds they could find. The birds wouldn't stay if there was a Machine around.
After the rugged and dusty streets of L.A., the woods were a delight. Kyle tugged down the cloth over his face and took a deep breath of clean air. The shade overhead felt cool and relaxing and he grinned at Star. She held out a water canteen and Kyle drank thirstily before passing it back.
Their feet didn't echo inside the woods, Kyle noted with interest. The leaves and grass muffled every footfall and they crept silently through the trees. The signs of wildlife were of even more interest and he noted that Star was staring at several squirrel nests intently. Squirrel wasn't his favorite, but it was a hell of a lot better than hunger pangs.
They reached the old museum in mid-afternoon. Both of them had been this far in their hunts, but it had been awhile since they'd ventured inside. It was better than Kyle had dared hope. The roof had survived Judgment Day and the windows were all intact. "No breezes at night," Kyle said gleefully and Star smiled in answer. In short order they had set up their Headquarters and Kyle sat back on his heels and studied it critically. "The Resistance Los Angeles Branch is moving up in the world," he finally said in approval and Star nodded firmly.
"HEY!"
The shout made Kyle whip around, his head moving fast enough to give him whiplash. He was running before his conscious mind could register what it meant. Abandoning his usual caution, Kyle hurtled over the rubble that blocked his way, nearly falling a dozen times, but managing to keep his feet.
"HEY!" The shout was more insistent now and the sound of another human voice made Kyle's heart constrict in both fear and longing. Rounding the corner, he saw a man standing in the middle of the road, foolishly staring as a Terminator hunted him. The man wore the Red Mark of a Resistance Fighter and Kyle almost halted in disbelief.
Instead, Kyle threw everything to chance and raced Death towards the idiot who still didn't have the brains to run. The Terminator started firing shots and Kyle jumped slamming into the most solid flesh he'd ever felt in his life. The guy had half turned when he'd sensed Kyle's approach and he took most of the brunt of their fall, but that suited Kyle just fine. He already didn't know how he was going to keep them both alive, but he certainly didn't have time to lie on the concrete and gravel gasping for air like a fish out of water.
They rolled, both on their feet faster than should have been possible and Kyle stared at the stranger in amazement. He was tall, solid, and completely without the starved and fearful look that Kyle remembered on the face of every other survivor. He often looked back at them with his own expression of fear. Mouth suddenly dry, Kyle pulled the stranger against the side of an overturned car. Lashing out with one hand, he sprung a trap that Star had silently made fun of him for setting. To his absolute amazement, it worked and the Terminator swung suspended in the air.
Shoving his goggles up and yanking down the bandanna covering his mouth, Kyle blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Come with me if you want to live," Kyle managed, feeling foolish and melodramatic. The man's eyes indicated his skepticism, but the Terminator bearing down on them proved more convincing than Kyle's dire warning and they ran together. Down one block, east two blocks, towards the old toy factory. The Machine gave chase, as Kyle knew it would and he spared some of his mental energy to send a prayer into the cosmos that his plan would work and he wasn't bringing their deaths down on all their heads.
Explosions behind him told him that the Machine had broken free and was giving chase and he sprinted up the metal stairs that lead to the roof of the old toy factory. The stranger stayed hard on his heels. Hitting the roof at a sprint, Kyle signaled to Star that she should drop the crusher and grabbed his rifle.
The stranger bolted to the roofline to watch the remnants of a car's body fall and crush the Terminator and Kyle pointed the rifle in his hand at the man without any further thought. Three minutes later, he foolishly wondered how he'd ever thought he'd survive the War when he couldn't even keep an idiot man who willingly faced down a Terminator from stealing his rifle.
The trip back to their new hideout was stilted and quiet. Kyle brought up the rear, content to let Star lead the way. He couldn't take his eyes off Marcus.
An hour later, Kyle watched in amusement as Marcus choked down a bite of coyote. "It's an acquired taste," Kyle said softly.
"Must be," Marcus answered and Kyle again felt amazement flow through him. How long had it been since he'd heard another human voice? Marcus noticed his reaction and Kyle looked away, embarrassed and finished eating.
"Come here," Marcus finally said and Kyle looked up to see him holding the rifle. Alarmed, he sprang to his feet cursing himself for ten types of a fool to let a total stranger have access to their only real weapon. "Try and take the rifle from me."
Fair enough, Kyle thought grimly and repeating Marcus' movement from earlier, snatched the gun. It fell out of his hands abruptly and Kyle blinked in amazement. Marcus held up the rifle with the string attaching it to his wrist.
"This will keep anyone from taking your gun." Marcus stated the obvious and Kyle flushed with embarrassment. "What were you talking about earlier? What's the Resistance?"
"Humans who fight the Machines," Kyle answered shortly, reminded again that Marcus must be crazy. How else would he not know anything about the world? "The Red Mark on your arm is a symbol of a Resistance Fighter."
"Why don't you wear one?"
Kyle looked up from where he'd sat back down and glared at Marcus. "I haven't earned mine yet." Star glanced at him, her expression unreadable and Kyle looked back down. His remark was the sort of comment that ended conversations and eh didn't want that. More than anything, despite that fact that Marcus was certifiable and despite the fact that he made Kyle feel small and stupid, Kyle didn't want him to stop talking.
"I need a way out of here."
"Walk," Kyle snapped.
"Something faster than that," Marcus replied, almost as if her were oblivious to the tension in Kyle's voice. "A car."
"Some in the parking lot but they don't work." Kyle muttered. His heart sank, but he wouldn't let Marcus know how much Kyle already dreaded being left in a silent world again. Marcus eyed him thoughtfully, then moved over to the radio.
"It doesn't work," Kyle snapped again, moving to take the dinner plates and wash them. Marcus ignored him completely, instead talking to Star who helpfully aided as the older man dismantled the radio. "My dad tried, but he couldn't get it working again."
This time Marcus let the sounds of his work answer and Kyle rolled his eyes. When static suddenly exploded from the microphone in Star's hand, Kyle nearly dropped the plate he still held. The static cleared and Kyle heard another voice echoing out at him. For the second time that day, his world changed.
"Why don't you know about the Machines and the War?" Kyle whispered. Even in the darkness, he could hear Marcus shift to look at him and he wondered how much the other man could see. It was dark enough that Kyle could only see a blurred movement if he strained his eyes.
"I died," Marcus finally answered, voice strained. Something in his tone indicated that he was telling the truth and Kyle stiffened.
"Memory loss?"
"Something like that." Marcus replied gruffly.
"What's the last thing you do remember?"
"Serena." The name floated out in the dark.
"Who's that?"
"The last person I ever kissed." Marcus said softly, then he chuckled. "I sold my soul for that kiss."
"You're not making any sense." Kyle rolled over, surprised to realize just how close Marcus was to him, and wondered when the other man had moved.
"Don't you know what it's like to want to kiss someone so badly that you'd do anything for her? Even, apparently, jump through time?"
Kyle scowled. "Now you're really not making any sense. And in case you haven’t noticed, there aren't a lot of single women roaming around here." He paused. "Men either." A grunt was the only answer he got. "The last person who kissed me was my father and he kissed my forehead every night, including the night before he died."
Kyle had no idea what possessed him to say that, but he heard Marcus suck in a breath. "How'd he die?"
"How do you think?" Kyle answered sharply. "A fucking Machine."
"I'm sorry," Marcus' voice whispered softly. "You've been alone since?"
"Star." Kyle shook his head and sat up, feeling more than seeing Marcus do the same.
"She doesn't say much."
"PTSD, I'd guess." Kyle shrugged, mouth twisting into a smile. "Don't blame her. There's lots to be stressed over."
"I see your point." Marcus answered after a second. "Why did you save me? You could have been killed and she'd have been left all alone."
The bluntness of the question caught Kyle by surprise and he swallowed. "I probably should have let you die, but…"
"But?" Marcus prompted.
"You're human." Kyle finally answered. "I couldn't let you die, because you're human. When I heard your voice earlier, I thought… I thought maybe I was dead and you were an angel calling me. But then you just turned out to be some crazy man acting like Terminator-bait."
"No one has ever mistaken me for an angel before," Marcus laughed and Kyle smiled.
"Don't get used to it. Angels would smell better."
Warm lips sealed over Kyle's and he froze. Marcus' hand cupped his jaw firmly, a thumb pressing on his chin lightly until Kyle opened his mouth. Marcus' tongue slipped inside, sending a jolt of fear and arousal to Kyle's core and he broke away, shaking.
"Why did you do that?"
"I don't know." Marcus admitted. "It felt right. End one life with a kiss, start the next the same way. It had nice symmetry."
Kyle reached up to touch his lips with trembling fingers and didn't answer. After a long time, he heard Marcus' breath settle into even puffs and he closed his eyes, heedless of the tears that slipped from under his lids and tracked down his cheeks. Marcus may have sold his soul for a kiss, but surely he'd bought it back with this one.
Kyle hoped so.
