Iron Instruments [Uncle Bob x Reader]

Chapter 1

You finally made it.

The white, sterile metallic walls of the corridors of Cyberdyne against your tanned skin and ratty army clothes makes you stick out like a sore thumb. You can practically see your reflection in the polished walls, and you can't remember the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your weathered army outfit hangs on your frame and it's a couple sizes too big, but you don't have the luxury of choice in the Resistance.

You've been running guns with the Tech-Com for years. You were born just a year before Judgement day, somehow lucky enough to survive the initial hit of the bombs and the devastation they brought. The irradiated deserts and destroyed cities are all you've known your entire life, growing up in this unforgiving hellscape of Man versus Machine, blood and tears against tortured metal. Your battle-worn skin is your testimony, and your arms are freckled from the sun shining ruthlessly on the death filled earth.

Hell, you have no idea if you should have even joined the Resistance at all. What difference does it make, if you're fighting against Man's worst creation, or struggling to live by yourself in the lonely barren lands? Your numbers are few and dwindling against this artificial Hydra. Between this and having to eat rats and cockroaches just so you can get by, you can't really tell which one you prefer.

But you finally fucking made it. You're alive and breathing and you almost can't believe it that somehow your squad managed to find the time machines.

Here you are, standing in the speckless yet sickening warehouse of a Cyberdyne base that you had only ever heard rumors of. You and your crewmates travelled far and long to get here, with your arms caked in blood and dirt and your fingers charred black from ripping at machines and wires. Your squad is led by Commander Kyle Reese. He's an apt leader, you give him that; he's kept everyone alive and fed and with their hopes up about the whole operation, and you'd take any bit of hope you can find.

You feel sick to your stomach just from being here, from standing on the impossibly clean floors of this bunker. Your throat feels like sandpaper and broken glass and holy shit, the time machines are real, right in front of you. Your heartbeat thrums in your ears and you feel like you'll crush under anxiety if you let it. A giant amalgamation of wire, steel and glass far too complex to be man-made sits in the middle of the room, with cables running from ceiling to floor.

"Get a move on, we don't have much time!"

You come to your senses. Protect and serve Commander Reese. You might not have the best standing with your own crewmates, but you'll be damned to let this operation fail.

You've survived this far, and you're a stubborn motherfucker.

Reese zips past you and beelines towards the machine immediately. You push your anxiety aside and focus on your mission to send your squad commander back in time. No one knows jack shit about time travel, and it hasn't even been long since you uncovered Skynet's plans. Regardless, a small smirk appears on your lips at being able to beat Skynet at its own game. You're just hoping the intel you got is correct and you don't end up killing Reese by mistake.

You run up to the nearest console and plug your hacking equipment in. It's a small keyboard salvaged from old technology found in the cities, with a small screen emitting barely enough light for you to figure out what the hell it's displaying. You punch in your data and immediately get to work, trying to worm your way through the security and gaining control of the time machine.

Your commander walks by you and your heart warms as he gives you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. It's his way of saying you're doing a great job, recruit. The small gesture calms your anxiety and you firmly nod at him, and you immediately go back to working on the console with newfound vigor. You try to hurry up; it won't take long for the H-Ks to find you. They always do.