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crack_van2013-01-24 10:47 am
stars-inthe-sky.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2013-01-24 10:47 am
Entry tags:
"Cold Comfort" by storiesfortravellers (T)
Fandom: Terminator / Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Pairing: None
Length: ~1k words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
daria234
Author Website: AO3
Why this must be read: Written for a "comfort food" prompt, this short fic examines John's relationship to his favorite dessert--and, underneath it, his mother, his machines, and his inability to get to just be a kid. John's one of the human characters I'm interested in least in the Terminator universe, but this is one of those fics that makes me rethink my stance.
After they stopped the T-1000 - after his Uncle Bob died - Sarah wouldn't stop driving for weeks, wouldn't stop switching cars and looking over their shoulder long enough for them to have a meal more substantial than what they could pick up at a gas station. But then, all of a sudden, she decided they would try a "family restaurant" by the highway.
She ordered coffee and he ordered pie, and Sarah calmly sipped her mug as if there were nothing strange about it.
John asked her what was wrong.
Nothing, she said. She just wanted to know if John wanted to talk.
The answer was no. No, he didn't want to talk about them almost getting killed, or her being crazy and then not crazy and then possibly crazy still. And he definitely didn't want to talk about the fact that one of the few people - or rather, one of the few beings - who had ever given a damn about him had just melted into nothing on purpose, or the fact that he was stupid enough to cry like a baby over it (and Sarah may have taught him to fight but it wasn't until public school that he learned that boys don't cry).
He stared at the table, refusing to look back at her, until the server brought dessert.
At first he picked at it, but then he took a big mouthful of cool, creamy filling. It really did taste good. Lots of shredded coconut, and a graham cracker crust.
Against his will, he smiled a little.
John saw them, then. A normal family, walking into the diner. Dressed in black, looking sad and weary, and John knew that they had come from a funeral.
Sarah noticed him looking at them, and said, "It's okay that you miss him. He was good to us."
"I'm fine," he said curtly. But he kept staring at the family.
Cold Comfort
Pairing: None
Length: ~1k words
Author on LJ:
daria234Author Website: AO3
Why this must be read: Written for a "comfort food" prompt, this short fic examines John's relationship to his favorite dessert--and, underneath it, his mother, his machines, and his inability to get to just be a kid. John's one of the human characters I'm interested in least in the Terminator universe, but this is one of those fics that makes me rethink my stance.
After they stopped the T-1000 - after his Uncle Bob died - Sarah wouldn't stop driving for weeks, wouldn't stop switching cars and looking over their shoulder long enough for them to have a meal more substantial than what they could pick up at a gas station. But then, all of a sudden, she decided they would try a "family restaurant" by the highway.
She ordered coffee and he ordered pie, and Sarah calmly sipped her mug as if there were nothing strange about it.
John asked her what was wrong.
Nothing, she said. She just wanted to know if John wanted to talk.
The answer was no. No, he didn't want to talk about them almost getting killed, or her being crazy and then not crazy and then possibly crazy still. And he definitely didn't want to talk about the fact that one of the few people - or rather, one of the few beings - who had ever given a damn about him had just melted into nothing on purpose, or the fact that he was stupid enough to cry like a baby over it (and Sarah may have taught him to fight but it wasn't until public school that he learned that boys don't cry).
He stared at the table, refusing to look back at her, until the server brought dessert.
At first he picked at it, but then he took a big mouthful of cool, creamy filling. It really did taste good. Lots of shredded coconut, and a graham cracker crust.
Against his will, he smiled a little.
John saw them, then. A normal family, walking into the diner. Dressed in black, looking sad and weary, and John knew that they had come from a funeral.
Sarah noticed him looking at them, and said, "It's okay that you miss him. He was good to us."
"I'm fine," he said curtly. But he kept staring at the family.
Cold Comfort