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The Terminator´s Salvation	By : Scythe0106 Category: S through Z > Terminator, The (All) > Terminator, The (All) Views: 2178 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Chapter List
- 1-The Terminator's Salvation
- 1
Title:
The Terminator's Salvation
Author: DeathScythe
Fandom:
Terminator Salvation (AU)
Pairing: John Connor / Marcus
Wright
Rating: NC-17 [Slash]
Chapters: 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, places etc. of the "Terminator" franchise, they are property of their creators and original copyright holders, no money is made with this
story.
Archive: VinXperience and adultff.net
Feedback:
Anytime, anywhere, constructive criticism if you please.
Summary:
Why did Marcus Wright, the new Terminator, really give his life for
John Connor in the end? Set in an AU with slightly changed settings
of the interrogation situation and the escape after Marcus has
tripped the mine and is captured by the resistance.
Author's
Notes: For simplicity's sake I'm already calling John the leader
of the resistance, although in the movie he'll only be at a later
point; we're in an AU after all. Many thanks to the lovely Bitten,
my fabulous beta and constant source of inspiration.

The
Terminator's Salvation

"Let
me down," the creature named Marcus demanded.

"If I
let you down, you'll kill everyone in this room."

The
thing shook its head. "Just you, Connor, 'cause I ain't give a
shit about you. I didn't even know your name 'till two days
ago."

John Connor frowned, saying, "no," as he
walked forward, crossing the short distance between himself and the
other man.

Marcus tried to shift, hands already numbing from
the chains that bound him to the... He looked at the two women
flanking Connor, Blair and the doctor, who were openly staring at
him, and 'pillory' was the word that suddenly came to his mind.
They'd put him on a pillory, showcasing him to the resistance as if
he was a goddamn freak show.

In reality, his hands were
chained to a train axle, feet tightly secured to an iron bar, and the
whole construction hung over a seemingly bottomless pit. As
escape-proof as it would ever get.

Connor blocked his view and
Marcus held his gaze, jaw set. "You and me," the older man
stated, "we've been at war since before either of us even
existed." Marcus swallowed hard, but John continued, accusation
evident in his now threateningly low voice, "you tried killing
my mother, Sarah Connor. You killed my father, Kyle Reese. You will
not kill me."

"Kyle Reese is on a transporter
heading for Skynet," Marcus ground out between clenched teeth.
"If I wanted to kill him, I woulda done him in L.A." He
continued to hold the other man's gaze and a long silence stretched
between the two of them. The Terminator shifted again in an utterly
futile attempt to assume a less painful position, the chains holding
him chinking loudly as he moved.

Confusion was the most
prominent of John's emotions as he examined the bound thing before
him. Their faces were so close that their noses almost touched. John
silently stared into the cyborg's eyes for a long while, and noticed
the reflection of feelings, a human spark, in them. Barely contained
anger, pain, a hint of desperation... not the ice cold trademark
stare it should have in common with the others of its kind.

But
was it possible? Was it possible that the devil's hands had failed to
build the ultimate killer? Or was this just a cunning trick? A shiver
crawled up John's spine as he tried to make up his mind. There was
something sincere about this man, no, this machine, something that
not even he could dismiss despite all his years of experience with
Skynet and its evil machines.

Curiosity lit, Connor turned his
head a little, looking over his shoulders, "I will interrogate
him further. Leave us alone. No interruptions." The sharp orders
of a leader.

"But John..." the red-haired woman
started out, sounding alarmed because in her opinion he was about to
do something obscenely stupid.

Only now did Marcus notice
that she was pregnant. How could Connor ever think that he would kill
innocent people? Pregnant women above all? Even though he had been
charged for homicide in the past he wasn't a murderer, it had rather
been an accident that had ultimately led to his conviction. That
Connor accused him of being just that made Marcus choke hard on the
anger that threatened to flare up.

"Leave," the
leader of the resistance stated again, this time more aggravated and
leaving no room for arguments. He didn't need to be lectured about
the dangers of being alone in a room with a potentially dangerous
creature. The fact that Kate was about to do just that, and with it
questioning his authority, annoyed him greatly. After one final
exchange of glares, the two women turned on their heels and left the
holding room.

As soon as they were gone, Connor focused his
full attention back on his prisoner. "Pretty tied up," he
muttered, and Marcus blinked, trying to make some sense of what the
other man had just said. Had he meant to tease, to make fun of him?
Deep down inside Marcus was still hoping to wake up from the
nightmare he was so obviously caught in.

"Now, how can
we find out how much of a human is really left of you?" John
mused loudly, scratching his beard in a pensive gesture.

"I
told you that I am," the alleged Terminator retorted, brows
furrowed and casting an angry glare. He was already growing tired of
this game, and apparently it hadn't even started yet.

John
extended his hands, pushing aside the chains that were dangling over
the other man's chest. The feel of Marcus's skin was smooth under his
hands, human, but through the holes the explosion had ripped, the
insides were partly visible.

Marcus trembled under the touch
but held his tongue, until John slowly brought his head in close,
turning it so that the side of his face touched his skin just above
the heart.

"What are you doing?" the captive
inquired.

"Sssh!"

Connor wanted to listen to
his heartbeat, to hear if there was truly a human heart hidden below
that smooth skin or if it was fake and mechanical. Kate had said it
was real, he trusted her of course, but still he needed to check for
himself. John pressed his ear close to the man's chest, keeping his
own breathing low and listening to the steady, albeit accelerated,
rhythm of a very human heart.

His nostrils flared as the
man-machine's musky scent filled his nose and John inadvertently
closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. In his mind, his
thoughts started spinning in circles. By definition, this thing was a
cyborg because parts of it were artificial. But it had a human heart
and brain, it smelled like a human, it had helped Blair. It had come
here to save Kyle and not kill him, it was offering help. Did this
really qualify the being before him as a machine? Or did it rather
qualify him as being human? It was a question that John still wasn't
able to answer, yet he felt his dislike recede bit by bit and found
himself referring to this being as a man, a him, Marcus.

Marcus
looked down at Connor, confused by what the other man was doing.
Although his heart now beat wildly in his chest, he tried to hold as
still as possible; so still in fact that he forgot to breathe for
almost a minute. Then, when he ran out of air, he drew in a deep and
hasty breath.

John startled and jerked his head away from the
chest, accidentally brushing his lips over the thing's... no,
Marcus's skin. Out of reflex, he licked his lips; the man-machine
tasted as good as he smelled. Something inside John stirred and, for
a second there, he felt remotely embarrassed about what he was doing;
he'd never really been close to another man outside the battlefield.
And there was quite clearly a huge difference between patching up
wounded comrades in various places and doing [i]this[/i].

More
food for thought as he pulled back slowly, purposefully letting one
of his hands trail over Marcus's chest and causing goose bumps to
erupt in its wake just to see how the man would react to it. There
were a great many possibilities of exploring this body, of learning
how it worked, some pleasurable, some not so much. It would take him
another moment to figure out which way he wanted to go, time that
should not be wasted.

"Interesting," Connor mused.
"Do you like that?" He felt the body shiver under his
touch.

"I'm freezing," was the answer, but John
didn't quite buy it. Marcus forced himself to relax, taking deep
breaths to steady his heart, which was beating even faster now.
Unlike Connor, he had been involved with other men in the past, in
another lifetime as it seemed, and judging by looks, the head of the
resistance fit his bill quite nicely.

As much as he struggled
to contain himself, Marcus was not able to keep his groin from
reacting to the touches. A muted grunt that escaped his lips made
John glance downward, noticing the growing bulge.

"Freezing,
huh." It was a statement rather than a question, and the other
man's physical reaction left Connor even more confused. Was a cyborg,
a Terminator, possibly capable of feeling lust? He couldn't quite
believe that Skynet had thought of setting up such a trap for him.

John squinted at the other man, scrutinizing him before he
brought up his hand to caress his skin again, eliciting more goose
bumps, more shivers and increasing the bulge in his pants even
more.

"Why are you doing this?" Marcus demanded,
trying hard to keep his voice steady even though he felt like
moaning.

"Curiosity, examination... I don't know,"
John shrugged. He honestly still didn't know himself. Perhaps it was
merely morbid curiosity, perhaps it was a bunch of closeted pervert
thoughts that had surfaced all of a sudden. The only thing he knew
for sure was that he wanted to explore this body, to learn as much as
he could. If that required a little contact, he was willing to put up
with it. And apparently some part of his mind had already decided to
go for the more pleasurable way. There was always the possibility of
resorting to pain later.

"Assume I want to get to know
you better," John drawled at last.

Marcus snorted
disdainfully; this whole situation would've been insanely funny if he
hadn't been all tied up and at someone else's mercy. He was still
wishing this to be a nightmare but found his hope fading fast.

"Do
you like doing this to me?" It was only a logical question,
uttered in a surprisingly calm and controlled voice.

Connor
cocked his head, not quite sure about the answer. Did he? Was it
really just about examination? He ran his hand up the man's chest,
casually brushing over a nipple, and felt an unexpected, strange tug
in his own groin as he saw Marcus biting his bottom lip to keep
himself from responding to the touch.

Maybe a sharp pain
would help him focus on something else, Marcus told himself, but even
as he tasted his own blood he had to realize his body would continue
to betray him. "Do you?" he asked again, sounding a little
more breathless this time. A part of him wished that Connor would say
yes. The other part was afraid that he would.

John rolled the
question over in his mind once more. He was curious about this
creature, but underneath that curiosity was something else. It wasn't
merely bodily attraction that he felt, but rather the surge of
control and power he had over this man that seemed to trigger some
primal instinct.

It was so very different from leading this
handful of soldiers. They were at his beck and call, they would
gladly sacrifice their lives for the cause, but they still retained
their own free will. And there was also a difference to the machines,
which knew no feelings and could only be treated with violence. This
man though, he had no choice. He was helpless, completely at his
mercy and [i]that[/i] was a whole new feeling for John. He felt like
the pack leader, the alpha, able to take anything he wanted, whenever
he wanted. His inner animal welcomed that prospect.

This
particular train of thought caught him off-guard and left him
startled. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and John
considered stepping back, leaving, forgetting that this situation had
ever occurred. But he couldn't. He wouldn't. His animal made him
stay.

Marcus still had his eyes fixed on him, and John
remembered the question his captive had asked earlier. Brushing a
finger over the man's other nipple, he watched him fight for
composure again.

"Yes, I think I'm enjoying myself. And
so do you." Marcus knew better than to argue that.

"Are
you going to release me?" he asked, but Connor merely shook his
head.

"No. Not yet, anyway."

"Well,
shit." John looked at him, not understanding, and Marcus added,
cracking a hint of a wry grin, "no cuddling then."

Connor
couldn't help but chuckle. To show humor in a situation like this was
definitely an admirable trait. Perhaps something he would look into
later. He leaned forward, bringing his face closer to Marcus again
who just stared at him, breathing heavily, defiant despite his
situation.

The kiss was rough and clumsy, as if John had never
kissed someone else before. They were lips, soft lips, and yet they
felt so different simply because they belonged to a man. He felt like
a school boy after his first kiss, embarrassed that he hadn't done
any better. He would have to prove that he could.

Marcus
opened his eyes again, surprised that he had closed them in the first
place. Some reflexes were just hard to beat. He could still feel the
prickling sensation of Connor's stubble on his skin, and, against all
reason, a part of him wanted to feel it again, longed to be touched.
It was still rather odd that he felt turned-on instead of hostile
given the situation, but good bondage and sexy men did this to him
sometimes.

With the taste of the first kiss still lingering on
his tongue, John let his hand coil around Marcus's neck possessively
and pulled him in close, his mouth capturing the other more urgently
this time. He needed to prove that he was a good kisser, needed to
prove that he was in control. For John this was the sole purpose,
although he would always remember Marcus's taste in later years. For
Marcus it meant that an avalanche of hormones had been set off that
was now running rampant in his body, leaving no escape
route.

Hungry, almost desperately they kissed, both men slowly
understanding what was happening between them. It wasn't love, it was
just raw lust for different reasons. Marcus knew he should be afraid,
but he couldn't be. He was hip-deep in a flurry of lust and unable to
pull out of it. And John... John reveled in his new power, basking in
the feeling of control that stimulated him and kept rationality at
bay. He was almost certain that if he'd stop now to consider his
actions, he would regret it later, one way or the other. And time
would prove him right eventually, although in a very unexpected
way.

John's hands traveled down the length of Marcus's torso,
hovering at the rim of what used to be perfectly intact pants. He
drew a quick breath, gathering that last bit of resolve, and then
clumsily undid both the button and the zipper. Marcus let out a sigh
of relief when the fly flapped open and gave his erection some more
space.

A moment's hesitation later, John's hands were busy
again, shoving down his captive's pants as far as the bondaged state
of his legs would allow. He took a moment to glance down the length
of the body before him, taking in the sight of what he was about to
capture.

Somewhere in the back of Marcus's mind, a tiny voice
of reason faintly whispered to him, trying to caution him, to
convince him that he was being abused this very moment. But Marcus
dismissed the voice. It was irrational that he found pleasure in
being exposed and at this man's mercy, but he did. And he wouldn't
let anything ruin it for him.

He caught a glimpse of John
undoing his own belt and buttons to reveal a rigid cock, and Marcus
inhaled deeply, body tense with anticipation. If Connor wanted to
fuck him he would either have to untie him or simply turn him around.
He was betting on the latter.

The strain on his cock almost
killed John, and he absently brought his hand down, stroking his own
flesh. A shudder of pleasure ran through his body and it pleased him,
fueled him to see that the other man was watching him with impatient
hunger in his eyes. Taking another step forward, he then gripped the
right side of the axle and gave it a push.

The chains rattled
and chinked loudly, and John had to take a step back again as the
whole device turned by almost 180 degrees, exposing Marcus's backside
to him. The skin there didn't look as bad as on the front, though it
had suffered burns and there were artificial bones glimpsing out from
underneath the flesh. Ignoring that fact, he let his gaze travel down
to Marcus's ass and it was wonderfully firm and smooth.

It
occurred to John that this would be his first anal sex ever. He'd
always wanted to try, but Kate had been hesitant about it all the
time. There was a first time for everything though, no matter which
way. He could still stop, he kept telling himself, but due to Kate's
pregnancy and the impending birth he was literally starved for sex
and, at this point, beyond care. This would be another guilty secret
to carry to the grave. One of many.

John stepped closer again
until the tip of his cock touched the naked skin before him, and was
rewarded with shivers of pleasure that ran over the other body. If a
mere touch could do that much to this man, how much more could he do
by entering him? He extended his hands to touch the exposed buttocks,
kneading them a little, and more tremors shook his captive. A few
inches more that John needed to shuffle forward and he would hit home
at last.

For lack of an alternative, Marcus bit down on his
bottom lip hard to keep himself from moaning and begging. Crying out
loud and drawing attention wouldn't help matters at all, but he was
almost too close to bursting from need.

"Please,"
he squeezed out through clenched teeth in a hoarse plea that had John
perk his ears.

For a brief moment, he wondered if it was
possible to contract a sexual disease from a cyborg, if maybe this
was Skynet's brilliant masterplan to wipe him from the face of Earth.
It was as unlikely as the thought was hideous, and yet it was kind of
frightening too. John decided to shrug it off with a small laugh. He
would be fucking Marcus. And if Marcus had indeed been sent by
Skynet, which he'd started to doubt, he would be fucking Skynet
too.

He brought his right hand before his mouth and spit on it
several times, then started spreading both the saliva and his precum
thoroughly on his penis; better this than no lubrication at all. To
prevent the spit from drying, John took aim and then pushed forward,
one hand grabbing Marcus by the hip, first positioning and then
holding him in place, the other drawing one buttock aside to make
room.

"You really want that?" He hesitated in
mid-movement for a short fraction of time, knowing the answer
already. John didn't bother to contemplate if he would back down in
case the other man said no.

"Yeah."

Marcus
heard his own breath hitch as he felt the tip of John's cock pressing
against his anus, and hissed through gritted teeth as the glans
penetrated his tight ring of muscle. It stung as the other man pushed
his way in but Marcus embraced the pain, turning it into pleasure,
and then gradually relaxed his body to ease the passage. Contrary to
his expectations, and surprisingly so, Connor bid his time and
proceeded slowly instead of taking him by force.

When his
cock was fully sheathed, John paused for a moment, adjusting to the
new sensation that enveloped his flesh. It didn't feel that much
different from a vagina, but it was a lot tighter and the
nerve-endings all over his body tingled in an anticipatory thrill.
Slowly, he pulled out, then pushed back into the body before him,
eliciting a soft groan from Marcus that rewarded his effort.

He
was still silent himself, relishing the new feel and adjusting to it
as he eased in and out again, now repeating the movement at a slow
and steady pace that had Marcus writhe in pleasure as much as the
confinement of his bindings would allow. Marcus, whose own cock stood
out rigidly, throbbing so much that it was painful.

John let a
hand snake around Marcus's waist, fingers crawling through a neatly
trimmed bush of curly, sturdy hair before they touched the rock hard
flesh they were seeking for. His fingers hesitated for a moment; the
idea of touching another man's penis was awkward to say the least,
but he willed himself to it.

Fair play wasn't a common thing
these days, not when fighting machines, but in bed he valued it.
Taking pleasure without giving some of it back didn't seem fair to
him, regardless the initial situation they had been in. Drawing a
deep breath, and with it courage, John kept his body perfectly still
as his hand wrapped around the heated shaft, lingering for a moment
until it made the first stroke.

A strangled cry escaped
Marcus's throat and he bucked his hips forward to meet the hand, to
urge for more. The grip around his cock tightened in reflex and he
pushed again, trying to force movement. He was helpless, his body so
strung up that it was close to bursting and shattering to pieces.
Marcus let out a frustrated snarl and it was a hint that John caught,
setting in motion again with both hips and hand in
reply.

Coordinating both proved to be a rather difficult task
though. Marcus kept writhing and urging while John's strokes were
unsteady and he had trouble finding the right rhythm. Ultimately, he
closed his eyes, blocking out everything but the raw lust and need
that he felt, not minding his surroundings and the man he had
entered. He imagined to stroke his own flesh with his hand, and while
he pumped into Marcus, he was able to let his hand move at the exact
same pace.

Each inward thrust would bring his hand up the
shaft, fingers brushing over the glans, giving it an extra squeeze
ever so often, while every outward pull would send it down the length
again in a forceful stroke. Beads of sweat formed on John's forehead
and his breath merely came out in ragged gasps from the exertion.

Marcus had long since squeezed his eyes shut, bright stars
dancing in the darkness as he concentrated on the tension that
was building up in his lower belly and groin. His whole body was
aching for release and if his limbs got any stiffer, they would snap
like twigs at the lightest of touches. Something wet met his back,
and if he could've turned around he would have seen that Connor was
resting his forehead against him for support.

There was a
sudden noise of voices talking and laughing down the hallway,
catching both of them off-guard but startling John even more than his
captive. If his people barged in against his orders to check on him,
to make sure he was still alive, he would be screwed. Literally.

"Shit," he whispered and throttled his pace,
keeping his breathing low and straining his ears. He was always
attentive, coulnd't afford not to be with Skynet hunting him day
after day. But no one said he had to freeze entirely.

Marcus
turned his head to the right and almost bit into his own shoulder to
muffle the string of cuss words he was uttering in frustration. He'd
felt his impending orgasm, that they were forced to slow down to a
more lazy pace was sheer torture.

The noise died down again
and Connor let out a short, rough chuckle, murmuring, "saved by
the bell," before he picked up speed again. He was content that
his orders were being obeyed by his people, but there was still the
possibility of being caught and that just added that certain edge to
what he was, no, what they were doing.

His animal fed on the
thrill as he plunged into Marcus, and this time he didn't have much
trouble syncing the movements of his body and hand. All his senses
focused on the center of his body where his climax built, primal
instincts taking over the reign and shutting out everything else.

He felt his hand tighten even more around Marcus's cock, was
aware of the frantic strokes that kept pushing the other man toward
the edge. And John waited, using every bit of resolve he had left to
keep himself at bay and let the other man come first. Only to prove
that he could exert that kind of control, that he was powerful enough
to have another do his bidding, come at his will while he himself
lasted.

Every nerve-ending inside Marcus was ablaze. The sound
of flesh slapping against flesh was sweet music to his ears, his butt
felt both raw and amazing at the same time, and the hand working on
his cock was almost too much for him to bear. It had just the right
grip on him, a little on the tight and squeezing side, just as he
loved it.

He felt heat rush over his body and then something
seemed to tug at his groin, straining until it snapped, and it felt
like giant flood-gates opening as his orgasm washed over him in
concentric circles that had their epicenter in his lower
abdomen.

Marcus cried out his release, spilling over John's
hand, his body spasming violently as that imperious hand kept
stroking his flesh, dragging out his orgasm. And then it was John's
turn to cry. His balls were almost unbearably tight and when Marcus's
body started convulsing around him, literally milking him, there was
no holding back anymore. He pressed his face against the other man's
back, screaming silently into the flesh as he rode on the waves of
his climax, pushing into Marcus until he felt drained.

John
felt his knees go weak and allowed himself to slump down to the
ground on all fours, resting his forehead against the cool metal
floor, trying to even out his breathing. Marcus just sagged in his
chains, still panting heavily and more than anything else longing for
the ability to move again. The aftershock of his orgasm still rippled
through his body, crawled over his skin, and he would've loved to
just curl up instead of hanging from the ceiling like a human
candelabra.

Even with the chance of getting caught John needed
to rest a bit, feeling too exhausted to get straight back to
business, and he was grateful that only the sound of heavy breathing
penetrated the silence in the room. When the world around him had
stopped spinning, John got up from the floor and pulled up his pants;
he was even considerate enough to pull up Marcus's as well.

Both
men stared at each other silently, not knowing what to say or how to
go from there. It was Marcus who found his voice first.

"Let
me go." It wasn't a demand, it was a plea.

"No."

"Why?"

"I
can't trust you."

"Look at me," Marcus offered.
"I need to find who did this to me. So do you. Kyle Reese is in
Skynet, I can bring you in. I'm the only hope you have." There
was a heavy pause, and a flicker of defeat clouded his expression as
he glanced down along his body and back up again. "Make your
choice."

John scrutinized him carefully, this ragged man
that was so desperately seeking revenge on those who had abused him,
who had mutilated his body in the worst possible way. After what
they'd shared maybe he deserved a little trust. Blair believed in
Marcus, and John had always trusted Blair. He willed himself to have
faith in Marcus as well.

"You get me in. You tell me
where I can find Kyle Reese. Yeah?"

"I will,"
Marcus promised solemnly and John believed. He undid the chains
holding him and helped Marcus step down to the ground. Then he led
the way to a hidden emergency exit, handing the cyborg a radio.

He
held the door open for Marcus to step through. One final request that
sounded more like an order, before the other man would leave,
"contact me on that, let me know if he's still alive."
Marcus nodded in affirmation and John squinted at him.

"Who
are you?" 'Who', the final acknowledgment of Marcus's
humanity.

There was an unfathomable amount of sadness in the
cyborg's eyes that spoke to a great pain. "I don't know."

And with that, he was gone.

It would only be later,
after the attack on Skynet, after John suffering a fatal blow to the
heart, that Marcus would be granted his second chance by giving up
his own life in order so save John's.

Blair would kiss him
for that; she could've probably loved him if they'd been given more
time. But Marcus, even though accepting the kiss, would only miss the
feel of stubble against his skin. Stubble, that would never prickle
anyone else's skin if he merely stood by and watched.

He and
John would never be partners, perhaps not even friends. It would be
the best he could do for everyone involved. And it would be then,
when Marcus would close his eyes for one last time that he, the
Terminator, would finally find his salvation.

The End
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The Terminator´s Salvation