John woke up with a start. He had had that same freaky dream again. He was three years old, playing at a playground with a little girl who couldn't be more than two. John was sure he knew this girl really well, but couldn't access who she was. His mother was sitting on a park bench on the other side of the jungle gym, talking to a man that John recognized, but again couldn't access. Suddenly a shadow fell over John and the girl. John turned and looked up into the cold metal face of a Terminator. The girl started crying, John yelled for help. He could hear his mother trying to get to them, but knew she would be too late. The metal monster reached down and grabbed John and the girl by their necks. John looked into those red eyes and knew it would be the end. Then suddenly the Terminator dropped John to the ground and took off with the girl. As John lay on the ground he saw his mother race past him, chasing after the Terminator, but it was too late, the girl was dead. He watched as his mother sank to the ground in despair and wondered who the girl had been. Then he would wake up.

John sat in his bed breathing deeply. This was the fourth night in a row he had had that dream, and he still hadn't told his mother. God only knew what she would read into it. She'd probably tell them they needed to move again.

John was startled out of his reverie by a creak on the floor outside of his room. He looked up to see Cameron standing in the doorway.

"I know you don't sleep," he said to her, "but could you ever just sit still for once?"

She cocked her head at him like a cat does when it's sizing you up, but she didn't answer. Instead she asked a question of her own. "Why do you wake in the middle of the night?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You are often awake when I pass by here during the night. You are also often perspiring and your breathing is shallow. Why?"

"It's called a nightmare."

"I don't understand."

"A bad dream?"

She cocked her head the other way, as if looking at him from a different angle would somehow explain what a dream was.

"Never mind," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's nothing. I'd like to go back to sleep now, so if you could move along, you're freaking me out."

Cameron looked at him for a few more moments before turning and silently striding away. When she was gone John smiled. She may have been a little weird sometimes, but she could be quite entertaining. And John could tell that she really did want to learn, which was why she asked so many annoying questions. He rolled over and settled back into his sheets, pondering what a Terminator would dream about if they could dream, and wondering if there was anything that could give them nightmares.