T-1000 x Reader One Shot
Author’s Note: Don’t mind me. I’m currently obsessing over Robert Patrick’s portrayal of the T-1000 in Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991)
His assignment was clear since the day he was created - terminate John Connor. Nothing was to stand in his way. Any and all threats were to be dealt with immediately. Skynet would be victorious in the war between machines and humans.
With the help of the boy’s foster parents, locating Connor was easy. They gave him all the information he needed and even provided him with a recent picture of their son without question, blindly trusting the badge on his chest. Weakness. Fickle emotions like that would be the cause of their inevitable downfall.
The local mall was busy with swarms of adults and children running about. He questioned a few boys that looked around Connor’s age who said they saw him at the arcade. He made a beeline to the arcade, ready to accomplish his task.
Connor was sitting one of machines with his back turned, intensely absorbed with the flashing images on the screen. The lithe Terminator pulled out the gun holstered to his belt and aimed it at the back of the young, unsuspecting target. One shot to the spine would render him paralyzed. Another to the head would sufficiently end his life. His finger slid over the trigger ready to shoot when Connor suddenly disappeared from his sight, replaced by someone else.
You, who’d be lounging on the couch in the arcade room watching your younger brother lose himself in a racing game, quickly jumped to your feet when the cop pointed his gun at John. You knew John was a troublemaker, but he couldn’t have done anything to warrant a fucking gun being pulled on him.
“John, move! Go!”
You yanked John from the game he was engrossed with and roughly pushed him toward the exit, shielding his body with yours. As serious as the situation was, John’s immaturity got the best of you and you whipped around and threw Officer Prick the finger.
When your eyes met the icy blue gaze of the cop, his forefinger froze on the trigger long enough to see you and Connor being swallowed up by the crowd. Gone. His arm slowly dropped to his side. Unblinking eyes narrowed in confusion.
It was not in his code to hesitate.
The human barricade was nothing he couldn’t have dealt with a single bullet. He was ordered to terminate anyone, anyone, who blocked his path to John Connor.
He scrutinized the hand that wielded the gun for any visible signs of damage, flexing his fingers repeatedly. With his unique molecular structure, it was impossible for his creator to add a functioning self diagnostic software so all he had to rely on was what he could physically see.
He flexed his fingers again, this time on the other hand. It’s possible there was a malfunction or two that were missed during testing. A drawback of being a prototype.
Frustration lingered, burning molten like pooling magma inside a festering volcano before solidifying into igneous determination. John Connor should be dead. He was right there and he allowed him to escape. All because of you.
While John Connor remained his primary target, he was going to make sure you never interfered with his mission again.
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