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 Post subject: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Mon Dec 28, 2009 10:06 pm 
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I finally finished! Okay, the end is pretty cheesy...but these two deserve happiness and cheese, don't you think? Eh, could be better but I spent so darn long trying to make myself finish, I'm pretty happy just leaving it :)

Title: House Of Dreams
Author: jemmalynette
Summary: Takes place after the finale. The Chief finds himself drawn to Boomer and the dreamhouse, even long after her death.
Characters: Mainly the Chief and Boomer with mentions of other characters
Rating: K
Disclaimer: Not mine :(

Read at Fanfic.net

CHAPTER ONE
His fingers gripped around the door handle gently as he slowly pushed it open, revealing the beautiful golden walls of the house and the many objects and ornaments that made it a home. His home. He walked over to the window where the sun shone through it brightly, causing him to squint slightly as he looked out at the many tall green trees and colourful flowers that were in front of him. He felt slim arms circle their way around his body and he looked down solemnly at the soft hands that caressed his chest and hugged him so tightly.

He pulled away, tearing the hands from his torso and he moved closer to the glass patio window, staring out at the nature that beckoned him in to peace and silence. Where nobody would bother him. Just a place where it was him, the birds in the sky and the natural beauty that grew around him. No one else. There was nobody to hurt him. And no one for him to hurt either. There was no anger or bitterness or danger. Just peace. And quiet.

“Galen…” a voice behind him said softly.

“Leave me alone,” he muttered, crossing his arms tightly and biting down hard on his right thumb.

“Please,” the voice added, “don’t do this. I hate seeing you like this.”

There was a long pause. Blissful for him, agonising for her. But her presence made him uneasy, made him angry. He bit down on his thumb harder until he could taste blood seeping on to his tongue. He swallowed and closed his eyes. Maybe he would be back on that island. Alone again. Away from her.

“If you don’t want to be here then why do you keep coming here?” she asked with confusion, keeping her distance but wanting to come closer, wanting to touch him again and make him smile like he used to.

“I know you’re dead,” he said suddenly, the hurt dripping its way in to his voice. He tried not to care. He had had so much practise in the past. But like all the other times, whenever he tried to forget her he would always fail. He would always see her image in front of him, smiling back at him as if everything was fine. He should’ve learnt by now. There was no forgetting Boomer.

He finally turned to face her, watching her expression fall slightly. She seemed so real. So small. She looked up at him with a frown, “Athena shot me in the stomach,” she told him, almost wanting to place a hand over the wounds that she knew would no longer be there, “Several times.”

“I know,” he replied as his eyes dropped to the floor. He feared that if he looked at her for too long, the image would play in his mind. And he would be reliving the first time he had lost her, when she had died in his arms and they had been torn apart so viciously, so suddenly. He didn’t want to feel such grief again. He didn’t want to grieve for her. He just wanted to be alone and not have to worry about anybody else ever again.

“Maybe she was right to kill me,” she muttered, running her fingers along the table and past the framed photo of their wedding. Mr and Mrs Tyrol. That was who they were supposed to be. Not this now. Not these hollow, miserable people they had become, “I was wrong to take Hera,” she continued, “I wish I hadn’t…I wish I never…”

“Me too,” he mumbled, still avoiding her eyes as she took a gentle step towards him.

She felt her lower lip begin to tremble, “Remember what I told you before I left?” she asked him as he refused to look at her, “I meant everything I said to you. About us.” She reached for his hand and he pulled away vigorously as if her touch were poisonous.

“You used me,” he snapped, “I wanted you-” he glanced at her, stopping in mid-sentence, “I wanted us…” again, he paused, unable to finish, “I shouldn’t have come here,” he muttered angrily, making his way towards the door.

Boomer watched him leave as he opened the door and disappeared once again. She continued to stare at the wooden door as she stood vacantly, wishing for it to open again.

~*~

She couldn’t tell how long it had been when he next visited. There was no sense of time here. Could’ve been days, weeks, months. She stood from the chair, leaving the framed photo of their wedding day on the dining table.

“I missed you,” she said softly, “We both did.” The little girl emerged from behind her, staring at him with the wide and hopeful eyes of her mother. She was truly the spitting image of her; this only made it hurt the more.

Galen looked away sullenly, “Get rid of her,” he mumbled, refusing to look at the child.

“Galen-”

“I said make her go away.” He looked up hesitantly and she was gone. Boomer stared at him sadly and it reminded him of when they had broken up aboard Galactica. Back when she was Sharon, his Sharon. It just wasn’t to be. And he wasted no time in reminding her of this fact with great emphasis.

“Don’t say that,” she said softly.

“Why not?” he barked, “It’s true.”

“You came back,” she told him, “If that were true then why did you come back here?” He turned to look at her angrily, “Here isn’t real,” he snapped, eyes wild. He restrained from touching her, from grabbing her and perhaps doing much worse. He knew what he was capable of now. That’s why he wanted to live alone, that’s why he didn’t want to be with anyone, “You aren’t real. You are dead.” That’s when he realised; it didn’t matter if he touched Boomer, or hurt her. Because there was nothing there to hurt. He couldn’t cause harm to something that wasn’t there.

She stepped slowly towards him, as if she were about to speak. She held out her hand to him, “Go ahead. Grab me and throw me to the floor again. I deserve it.” His head pounded. He didn’t want to do that. But he didn’t want this either - he didn’t want to be manipulated again, hurt. He was sick of it all. There was no one out there for him, there never was. No one that cared for him. What Boomer was telling him, they were all lies. She used him before and she would use him again. What she did to him was unforgivable, spiteful. And there was no way he could release that anger. He grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard and pulling her closer. She barely reacted but he could see the fear in her eyes as he glared down at her. He recognised that look. It was the same expression from when they were both in the brig years ago and he had thrown her to the floor furiously. Don’t touch me. If you do, I swear, I will kill you. He froze, his fingers loosening around her small wrist. Gods, had he really said that? And meant it? He stared at her, glare softening in to a stunned gaze. He didn’t want to be the one who put that fearful look on her face, or those frightened tears in her eyes. He dropped her arm and stepped back.

She let a single tear fall, “I am real,” she almost snapped, “It doesn’t matter what you do. I will still feel the same.”

“You can’t,” he whispered, eyes darting back and forth, “You can’t. I’m a monster.”

She sniffed, wiping at her eyes, “You’re not.”

“I am. I can’t control it,” he took another step back, “I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m here.”

“Galen-”

“I’ve got to go.” And once again, he had left her alone in the house. She knew he would be back. It was only a matter of when.

CHAPTER TWO
The next time he visited, she was in bed. The morning sun shone through the window and illuminated the bedroom as he stood over the bed frowning.

She looked up at him as she stretched out on the mattress and turned on to her side to face him, “Your side is on the left,” she told him quietly, “You always liked to be on the left.”

He ignored her, as expected. Instead, he continued to drift off in to his own thoughts. She sat up, watching him.

“I killed Tory,” he admitted hoarsely.

She nodded, “I know.”

“Don’t you understand? I killed her. Strangled her. I can’t…I can’t be like this anymore. Angry, violent...”

“It’s not who you are,” she finished for him, “You and I both know that. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. None of this is okay.”

“You can be happy here. With us.”

“I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

He felt a burning pain erupt in his mind and he pinched the skin between his eyes tightly. He shook his head but spoke no words. Boomer got to her feet and cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder. His back hit the wall behind him and he ran a hand through his matted hair. Her touch soothed him but that fact alone was enough to agitate him again. Tears escaped from his tired eyes as he tried to swipe at them quickly, preventing them from falling down past his cheeks. But they were unstoppable. Every part of him told him this was wrong. But there was a stronger part of him that wanted to stay and be here with Boomer. To start again and forget the past. But it was so damn complicated. And he was tired, so tired.

She held him tightly, wrapping her arms around him and refusing to let go. It was impossible for him to resist - not that he did. Neither of them spoke another word, just sunk in to the other effortlessly. For a moment, it was just like old times. When things were easy and simple. When they were there for each other and didn’t care what anyone else thought. When they were both strong and caring people; not miserable machines who hurt others and longed for things they could no longer have.

It’s strange how much time can change you.

He gently placed his hands on her back and rested his cheek on her soft head of hair, “Do you still love me?” he whispered, brushing her smooth skin with his thumb, “After all of this? After everything I’ve done?”

She pulled away slowly and stared lovingly in to his eyes, “I always have. And nothing you could do would change how I feel.”

He forced a smile and she returned it delicately, “I tried to change how I felt about you. And after finally forgiving you, this happens. You die. I live alone. We don’t get our happy ending. All we get are dreams.”

“And what’s wrong with dreams?” she questioned, sinking back down on to the bed and giving a small, teasing smile, “This is what we always wanted. We can have our happy ending here,” she grabbed his hand and he sat down beside her, “I don’t have to be dead. You don’t have to be alone. We can be together. We can be happy.”

He smiled at her. He could sense himself giving in. Her words were so promising, so tempting he found himself wanting to stay more than ever. The sunshine warmed him as he shivered, the morning sun lightly burning his skin. He knew he would be happy here, that’s what told him to leave.

Boomer sighed as she sat alone again, a messy quilt cover remained in the spot next to her. She sunk in to the covers again and wondered if they really would get their happy ending after all, if they would finally get the dream they had shared for so long. Not everyone got what they wanted, and after so long of losing everything she had loved and held close to her, after so many attempts of finding herself and failing miserably, she had hoped her dreams would one day find her. Now that the opportunity was here, she only wished she could share it with the one man she truly loved.

~*~

The next time she was in the garden planting sun flowers. They weren’t her favourite flower but lately, she had become quite fond of them. They were new and mysterious, she’d never seen them before in real life, and she liked how they grew so tall and proud, bursting with life and colour. They spoke to her a language of happiness and she thought they would make her smile whenever she passed them or looked at them through the glass patio window.

A few metres behind her was the little girl, playing and laughing on the swings in the large green garden. Boomer looked over and smiled at her, “Beautiful, isn’t she?” she said to her companion, who was engaged entirely in the girl’s playful activities.

The Chief tore away his gaze and glanced at her, “Hmm? Oh. Yeah, she is.”

Boomer dusted off her hands and invited him to join her at the table. The sun beat down as she poured the two of them some ice water.

“This is strange,” he murmured, gaze still fixed on the young girl.

“What is?”

“This. You,” he almost let out a small laugh, “You’re gardening.”

“Why not?” she grinned, “Now’s the perfect time to do everything we never got the chance to do. We can live our lives without worrying about an everlasting war or what side we’re on. We’re not judged here, we’re not crucified for what or who we are; we’re at peace.” He seemed hesitant, full of doubt. She placed a hand on his and this time he did not pull away, “We can start again and be happy. I don’t hold any grudges here. I try not to be angry, or sad. I just want to be here, with you.”

He frowned and his glance directed downwards. His daughter’s laughter still echoed round the garden, “I miss Nicky,” he admitted sadly and Boomer felt his heart sinking, “I know he isn’t mine, but he was for a while. We were a family.”

“He’s with his father,” she replied with sympathy, “They’re happy.”

He nodded and revealed to her a weak smile, “I do like it here,” he told her and she felt her grin spread. He looked away slowly and squinted in the sunlight, eyes glancing from his glass to the busy garden around him. Boomer took a deep breath and hesitated to begin her next sentence.

“Earlier you asked if I still loved you,” she started nervously, “I’m positive I do, and I will always. I just need to know,” she paused, “You still love me, don’t you? That’s why you keep returning? Because you like it here, and you’re still in love with me? I understand you need to heal and I know that I hurt you…you’re welcome here any time, you know. But this can only work…you can only stay if you want to be with me.”

He didn’t answer straight away - there was that odd gleam in his eyes. It wasn’t uncertainty but it was something else. He watched her carefully and then smiled softly, “I’ve already told you, I couldn’t stop loving you. If I couldn’t stop loving you after years of trying to hate you, then I must still love you now.”

She smiled wildly, trying to prevent joyful tears from streaming down her face. He returned the smile, and they both laughed together happily. She placed a slim hand on his and clutched it tightly, “Does this mean you’ll stay? With both of us?” she asked, referring to the little girl who was now chasing a butterfly and was laughing and giggling as she bounced around the garden.

He glanced down at the water on the table and pressed his lips together firmly as Sharon felt her heart beat rapidly inside her chest. He looked at her with gleaming eyes and slowly nodded, “I will,” he told her, an ecstatic laugh erupting within him, “I’ll stay. I’ll stay here with you, both of you. I will!”

Her smile stretched across her face and he mimicked her grin. This time she could not hold back the tears and they spilled down her face like miniature waterfalls. He leant forward and gently wiped her damp cheeks with his hand, beholding her beautifully crafted face. She leant forwards and touched his lips with hers, holding him tightly and kissing him as if it were their first ever; never wanting to let the other go as he held her fragile face in his hands and she ran her slim fingers through his mess of brown hair and around his smooth neck. They were no longer robots, impossible of feeling and happiness, of family and joy; they were simply two people who had found each other, loved each other, and only wanted to live their dream.

He pulled back, gazing at her, breathing her in, and stroking her cheek lightly with his fingers, “There’s something I have to do first. I’ll be back.”

She nodded, but before she could respond properly, she was nodding to an empty chair. Wherever he had gone, he was already there, and she sat back waiting patiently for him. She finally had him, she could wait a little longer for him to return to her again.

~*~

Galen Tyrol stood alone for the last time, outside a dull cave in a wild forest. He was on a large hill beside the ocean and the waves lapped angrily against the muddy shore. He breathed in the thick sea air and took in the view he had observed for at least a year during his solitude. It was another dull day and the clouds threatened rain. He stood up straight and whispered a silent goodbye to the people he had once loved and referred to as family, who were still out there somewhere, together; living in their new civilisation, bustling with their own new-found happiness and activities. The cuts and scars on his body screamed agony. The pain was real here, the physical and emotional: the loneliness, the regrets. In this place, in this old murky cave of darkness and misery, it engulfed him whole, spitting him out again in to this world of isolation and torture, a place he had previously thought he deserved to call home.

Taking one last glance around this desolate prison, he added a silent good riddance to this world and everything and everyone who had put him through Hell, who had tortured him, punished him, and treated him like dirt. For so long he believed the enduring punishment was necessary, even long after his mistakes had been made and repented for. That chapter was over, and a new one was beginning.

Goodbye New Earth, Humans, Cylons, and even little Hybrids. Now he was leaving for a better world, where none of these things existed and it was just him and his family. A home, his home.

He shut his eyes, welcoming the new feeling that was overwhelming him, and he was back in his safe Haven, his two girls waiting for him. He took his wife’s hand and scooped up the little girl in his free arm. She laughed and threw her arms around him, calling him daddy and smiling wildly. He shared a look with Sharon, hoping he was making the right choice. She smiled reassuringly at him,

“I know it will take time,” she told him, squeezing his hand supportively.

He paused and took in a breath, “Are we just going to forget everything that’s happened over the years, all the hurt, the pain, the misery?” he whispered, holding her hand so tightly.

Again, she only smiled at him, “Of course not. This is a place for forgiveness, for happiness. You and I have been through so much. Now we’re here, together. We’re stronger then we think, and here we can continue our lives the way it should have been, learning from our mistakes. The scars we have won’t hurt here, but the lessons we’ve learnt from them will stay with us forever.”

Her words seemed to calm him, and his features formed back in to a smile. She had changed over the time they had been apart, and so had he. But together, they still shared the same love they had back then. She was right. The life they had planned for years before, the dreams they had shared, they could all still be possible. He glanced at both of the girls and then back at the stunning house that reflected the bright sunlight of the warm, sunny day. There he saw his own reflection, Sharon and his daughter holding on to him tightly. He smiled at the sight and took relief in the fact that he would never have to be alone in turmoil again, that he deserved this peace and togetherness. This was surely a place like no other as he was certain no other world would cater a blissful life for him such as this. A heavenly paradise, crafted specially for him and his loved ones. A place he could take pleasure in calling home.

Finally.

End.

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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Mon Dec 28, 2009 11:40 pm 
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Very nice and sweet. sniff, sniff... :melts:


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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Mon Dec 28, 2009 11:54 pm 
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Thank you! :biggrin:

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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 8:07 am 
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This is sweet.


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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 10:38 am 
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Thanks! :D

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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Thu Dec 31, 2009 11:35 pm 
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Huh, Jemma, that's really something. It leaves a complex feeling of sadness/happiness, of strangeitude. (does this word exist? well, it's a Ozric Tentacles' album, at least...)
Must have been difficult to write.
So, did Chief give up, somehow suicide himself?

Quote:
Grab me and throw me to the floor again.

I identified this scene immediately, sure.

Quote:
Boomer sighed as she sat alone again, a messy quilt cover remained in the spot next to her. She sunk in to the covers again and wondered if they really would get their happy ending after all, if they would finally get the dream they had shared for so long. Not everyone got what they wanted, and after so long of losing everything she had loved and held close to her, after so many attempts of finding herself and failing miserably, she had hoped her dreams would one day find her. Now that the opportunity was here, she only wished she could share it with the one man she truly loved.

~*~

The next time she was in the garden planting sun flowers. They weren’t her favourite flower but lately, she had become quite fond of them. They were new and mysterious, she’d never seen them before in real life, and she liked how they grew so tall and proud, bursting with life and colour. They spoke to her a language of happiness and she thought they would make her smile whenever she passed them or looked at them through the glass patio window.

This draws a so fantastic atmosphere... (as I like 'em...)

Incidentally, uh, I think you might have given me an idea for a yet still very hypothetical fic (strange, I thought I was "dry"). Is it ok if I use (indirectly) some of the ideas/concepts exposed here?

:platy:

Happy New Year, au fait. :waves:

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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Fri Jan 01, 2010 12:44 am 
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Thank you so much, Pierre! Glad you like it! :hugs: :biggrin:

Quote:
So, did Chief give up, somehow suicide himself?


I wanted to leave this up for interpretation but the way I see it Boomer's Dreamhouse is like a state of consciousness, not just a cylon projection (as I think she described in the episode). So even if Chief's body is still in the "real" world and he is, effectively, dead, his consciousness would still be alive with Boomer, if that makes sense. I wanted it to seem like Heaven, so ending on a happier note in contrast to all the angst they had suffered in life. I'm sorry if that didn't make a lot of sense, it's hard to explain! :oops:

Quote:
Incidentally, uh, I think you might have given me an idea for a yet still very hypothetical fic (strange, I thought I was "dry"). Is it ok if I use (indirectly) some of the ideas/concepts exposed here?


Absolutely, that's fine with me! 8-)

Thanks again and Happy New Year! :cheers: :mrgreen:

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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Fri Jan 01, 2010 10:46 am 
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jemmalynette wrote:
I wanted to leave this up for interpretation but the way I see it Boomer's Dreamhouse is like a state of consciousness, not just a cylon projection (as I think she described in the episode). So even if Chief's body is still in the "real" world and he is, effectively, dead, his consciousness would still be alive with Boomer, if that makes sense. I wanted it to seem like Heaven, so ending on a happier note in contrast to all the angst they had suffered in life. I'm sorry if that didn't make a lot of sense, it's hard to explain!


Actually, that's probably best. You're aiming for an emotional truth, not a technical one. I think it works.


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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Fri Jan 01, 2010 2:04 pm 
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Thank you, glad you think so!

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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 4:30 am 
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sweet and also a little scary

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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 4:57 pm 
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lol, thank you :)

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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Mon Jan 04, 2010 3:58 am 
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Kind of like acsending isn't it?

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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Mon Jan 04, 2010 6:23 pm 
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You mean in a literal/spiritual sense? Yeah, I was aiming for something like that, a bit like when Starbuck 'disappeared' in the finale. :)

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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Wed Jan 06, 2010 6:31 pm 
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Very good story. :biggrin: Bittersweet, and I didn't find it at all cheesy. Your descriptions set the scene very well.

Pierre wrote:
Incidentally, uh, I think you might have given me an idea for a yet still very hypothetical fic (strange, I thought I was "dry")


Another Pierre story! I'm looking forward to it already.

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 Post subject: Re: House Of Dreams, by Jemma, Chief/Boomer, K
PostPosted: Wed Jan 06, 2010 8:08 pm 
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Chris Taylor wrote:
Another Pierre story! I'm looking forward to it already.

You're so kind...
Ehm, it might take some time for me to really do it. You see, six months ago I wanted to "redo" Fractal Fragments... , had re-watched several eps., compiled some data and written quotes. But eventually I realized that, to paraphrase Catherine Weaver's tech assistant, Mr. Murch, in Terminator-TSCC *, the fic was this specific collection of words and feelings. And I couldn't change any of it. (unless there are spelling/grammar bugs, of course)

This discouraged me a little bit... since I qualified the fic as "mess" but couldn't decide myself to modify it.


* Mr. Murch, in Born to run (final and so beautiful and emotion-charged episode, believe me): "I think what we know to be John-Henry only exists as this specific collection of hardware and software: body and soul."
http://terminatorwiki.fox.com/page/Epis ... orn+to+Run


But yes, indeed, Jemma's Gem ( :-) ) gave me an idea.

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