She was in Charley's backyard when it happened. She guessed it was about time she started thinking of it as 'their' backyard, 'their' house. Considering how long she and John had been living there, considering the engagement, Sarah figured it was about time she let herself think of Charley's house as their house.

Semantics aside, Sarah was in the yard when it happened, leaning against the back door while her son and her fiancé played baseball. Which was odd really, because John didn't usually play baseball, and neither did Charley. Usually, they contented themselves with working on Charley's motorcycle together, coming back from the garage with dirt and oil all over them, and the most ridiculous smiles on their faces. John had smiled so little before Charley came along that Sarah used to become vaguely alarmed when he started grinning, started becoming less moody and withdrawn, started acting like a kid.

Sarah was in the yard, watching them play a game they didn't usually play, when the world ended. Out of nowhere, the sky lit up so fiercely that Sarah thought she'd gone blind. She hadn't though. After a few seconds, she could see the fire approaching, closing in on John and Charley. She tried running to them but couldn't. Why could she never get to them? John dropped the ball he was about to throw, gloved hand moving to cover his eyes. Sarah tried to call out to him, but couldn't.

The nuclear hell engulfed Charley first, then John, then Sarah herself. She screamed and her skin burned, then suddenly it all stopped. Opening her eyes, Sarah saw that the world had gone dark. The house, the yard, everything was in ruins. The air was black. The future Kyle described was finally here.

Forgetting to question why she wasn't a pile of ashes, Sarah ran across the decimated yard, to where she'd last seen Charley and John. She called her son's name, searched for him amidst the scorched earth, but couldn't find him. Sarah couldn't find John. Charley though…

There shouldn't even have been a body, but somehow there was. Dropping to her knees, Sarah examined what was left of her fiancé. He was almost beyond recognition, but not quite.

"Charley," she breathed, touching the ruin of his face. What remained of his skin should've come away on her fingertips, but it didn't. It didn't make sense, none of this made any sort of sense.

"This is what it looks like," said a voice from behind her. "This is what Skynet does to the world."

Back on her feet in an instant, Sarah whirled around to face Kyle Reese. Kyle, who hadn't aged a day in fifteen years. He wouldn't though, because Kyle was dead. Always, Kyle was dead. Sarah was suddenly overtaken by a bizarre awareness, a certainty that her dreams didn't usually afford her. Reese was standing in front of her, looking just the same as she remembered, but he was also dead. He was dead, but John and Charley and the rest of humanity weren't. Another nightmare, that was why none of it made sense. She was dreaming, and soon enough she'd be awake again. John and Charley would be there, the world would be as it should, and Reese would be gone again.

"He's a good man," Kyle observed, nodding towards Charley's corpse as he closed the distance between them. "First one you've been with who actually deserved you."

"Second," Sarah corrected, oddly calm now that she knew this was just her imagination betraying her again.

Smiling a little at that, Reese held out his hand. "We need to talk, Sarah."

Shaking her head no, Sarah ignored the hand and walked past him, away from her dead lover who wasn't there and her dead fiancé who wasn't there. Despite the knowledge of what this was, Sarah was still confused. Nightmares about death and fire and terminators, those were par for the course. But Kyle, Kyle was different. She'd thought about him so many times, cried about him so many times, but when it came to her dreams, Reese was usually a no-show.

"You're not here," Sarah declared, wanting to ignore him and knowing it was a lost cause.

"Sarah," he began, moving nearer to her.

"No," she repeated, shaking her head again. "You're not here, you're never here."

It was true. Even when she'd been stuck in the jungle, giving birth to their son and thinking she'd die from it, Reese wasn't there. Even though she'd pretended he was next to her, murmuring encouragements and promising that everything would be all right, he hadn't really been there. Even in Pescadero, when she'd almost lost her mind from being in that mental hospital. When she'd been drugged to the gills and getting beat by the guards, and every so often, Kyle would be in her cell with his kind eyes and his comforting words. Even after she'd signed those papers, given up John, given up on John, on herself, on her ability to protect him. That had been the one time Reese had looked at her with something other than encouragement. He'd been so sad, so disappointed, except he hadn't really because he'd never been real.

That was the part that confused her now. Kyle didn't usually show up unless she was drugged to the gills, or in pain, or both. And, in another flash of awareness she couldn't explain, Sarah knew that wasn't the case this time. When this was over, she'd wake up on Charley's couch or in Charley's bed and, aside from the myriad of old scars that covered her body, she'd be perfectly fine. So why was Kyle here, why was he here now?

"You think it'll work?" asked the soldier. Putting his hands on her shoulders, Reese gently forced Sarah to turn, to face him. Him, and the blackened remnants of Charley's yard, of their life together. "It can't work Sarah, you know that."

Kyle's hands were on her arms, rubbing softly. Sarah wanted to pull away, but she didn't really want to pull away. She couldn't hold his gaze, couldn't take the intensity there. She could see Charley's body over his shoulder.

"Sarah."

"What Reese, what?"

"Charley. He's a good man, but you know what'll happen."

"Do I?" she asked, forcing herself to meet that piercing gaze head on.

"Good men don't last long around you," Reese answered neutrally.

Barely suppressing a snarl of rage, Sarah pulled free of his grip. Backing a step or two away, she folded her arms so that she was almost hugging herself. It was a weak position, a weak gesture, something her younger self would've done. The pose was weak, but the fire in her eyes almost made up for it. "That's over, all of it. That life…everything. It's gone."

"Are you sure about that?" Reese persisted. Gently, he took one of Sarah's hands away from her body, covering it with his own. "Look around you, Sarah."

"We stopped it, years ago."

"You don't know that."

"I do actually," the brunette argued. She wanted to pull her hand back, but couldn't do it. His fingers felt the same as when he touched her that night in the motel. "I know it took too long, I know we almost killed ourselves doing it, but we stopped it. John and I and the machine. I almost killed myself trying to stop it, trying to keep our son safe, but I did. We're safe and we're alive and I did that. Without you."

She'd been aiming to hurt him and it worked. He looked away from her, suddenly silent. In her head, Sarah knew she wasn't being fair. Reese had done everything he could for her, for their unborn child. It wasn't fair to resent him for what he couldn't control, and she understood that. However, she also understood that he was threatening her happiness, John's happiness.

Kyle was looking at her again. He'd stolen her other hand, gripping both of them tightly. "You know I would've done anything to be with you, to raise him with you. You know that Sarah."

Sarah examined the ground, a single tear leaving her eye and hitting the barren soil. Of course she knew that, she'd always known that. She thought of that motel room again, of being in the kitchen while Kyle explained how to make a pipe bomb. Then she thought about sitting in a hut in Mexico somewhere, while Kyle schooled their little boy on the finer points of bomb-making. Good job John, few more like that and we can take a break. Mom made dinner, doesn't it smell good? The ridiculousness of the image made Sarah want to laugh and cry simultaneously.

Raising his right hand, Kyle turned her face up, wiping at the tears there. "I love you Sarah. You and John. So much."

She knew that too, just as she knew that none of this was real, that she'd wake up any minute now. "Then why can't I have this? Why won't you let me have this?"

"It's not my choice, Sarah, it never has been."

"Dammit Reese," she mumbled, no real heat behind the words. "We stopped it, we're safe."

"Is that what you tell John?"

Backing away again, her eyes darted between Reese's face and Charley's corpse.

"Sarah," he murmured, "even if things don't turn out like this…" He trailed off, gesturing at their surroundings.

And that was it, wasn't it? Even if they had stopped it, even if Skynet and the machines and the fires never came, what did that mean? Her life was still dangerous, she'd still lied to Charley from day one. Not about the important stuff though, she'd never lied about what mattered. That had to count for something.

"He's a good man," said Sarah, echoing Kyle's words as she tore her gaze from Charley. "He's a good man and John likes him. John's happy. I don't…that's not usually how it is."

"Not just John."

"What?"

Kyle stroked her cheek again. "You don't have to pretend it's only about John. It doesn't always have to be just about John."

Sarah wanted to argue, tell him how wrong he was. She couldn't. Shivering, she leaned into his hand, kissed his callused palm, then broke contact yet again. "Why then?" she asked, repeating her earlier questions. "Why can't you just let us move on?"

"I'm not the one stopping you," he replied. "I've never been in control of that."

"Reese," she said from behind clenched teeth, shutting her eyes tight.

Kyle shook his head, expression hardening as he backed away from her. "It's not my call, Sarah."

She'd wanted him to leave, wanted to wake up all this time. Now he was leaving and Sarah tried going after him. She tried chasing him, but couldn't move. She tried calling out to him, but her vocal chords were locked. Frozen and silent, Sarah watched as, inexplicably, the already-destroyed world went hot and fiery again.

Coming awake with a jolt, Sarah found herself exactly where she'd expected to be. Early morning sun filtered through the bedroom windows and she could hear Charley moving around in the bathroom. Other than a rapid heartbeat and a bit of sweat, Sarah was perfectly fine, just as she'd expected to be. Reese shouldn't have shown up in her head, not unless something was really, really wrong.

"Hey." Dressed for work, Charley sat on the bed next to her, a frown marring his kind features. "You all right, you look pale."

Shaking her head, Sarah forced a smile for him. "Bad dreams. Last time I let you and John talk me into ice cream before bed."

Charley's frowned deepened as he drew her fingers into his. "You sure? You've got a look on your face…"

"Do I?" she asked, tilting her head and trying to play dumb. "What kind of look is that?"

Shrugging, Charley brought her hand to his lips, placing a kiss there. "You tell me."

She almost didn't. She almost lied. "John's father. I was thinking about John's father."

Expression softening, Charley ran a hand over her cheek while absently playing with the ring on her finger. He didn't know what to say to that, didn't think there was anything to say.

Sarah looked down, watching him fiddle with the band of gold. With the others, the ones she'd used for weapons or training or whatever, she'd said that John's father was no one. A brief fling that resulted in her getting knocked up. Charley was different. She couldn't lie to Charley about the important stuff, so she gave him as much of the truth as he could.

"Sarah I don't…I don't expect you to stop missing him."

"I know," she assured him, pressing her fingers to his lips. "I don't expect to stop missing him." She'd told Charley what she could, that John's father was a good man who she fell in love with, who died on a mission. The truth, minus a few details.

"Hey," Charley murmured, tilting her chin up, "I love you, you know that right?"

"Yeah," Sarah replied, trying to keep her voice level. "I know that." Leaning forward, she captured his mouth in a soft, lingering kiss. "The feeling's mutual."

Sarah told herself that that was all that mattered as she sent him off to work and sent John off to school and headed off to the diner. She loved him and he loved them and that was all that mattered. After fifteen years of fighting, of having Kyle's ghost forcing her onwards even as she wanted to collapse, Sarah deserved a little happiness. And John needed someone real, someone alive, someone who could and would be there.

As she waited tables and refilled napkin holders and tried not to kill the new girl that kept dropping dishes everywhere, Sarah attempted to put Reese out of her mind. Reese was gone, the future he came from would never be, and whatever doubts she had were just leftover scars from all those years of fighting. Sarah had to believe that, needed to believe that.

She needed to, but she didn't.