Author's Note: As some of you may be aware, I miss Charley. Seriously. I avoided writing this for months, but I still missed Charley, so eventually I threw up my hands and gave in to the muse. Hopefully this will be relatively short, but again, the muse does what she does.

In my reality, 'To the Lighthouse' never happened. Everything else did. Just assume the Connors found out about Savannah some other way that didn't involve the body at the lighthouse. How did they find her? I don't know. It's not really pertinent to the story, and I'm not a good enough writer to figure it out right now, so use your imaginations. Also, use that little review button to drop some feedback as you leave. Feedback makes me all kinds of happy.

Disclaimer: They aren't mine. We'd still have a show if they were, and you wouldn't be stuck reading this instead.

One of the things Sarah always loved about Charley he knew how to curb his curiosity. It wasn't that he'd never questioned her during their brief period of happiness. Of course he'd asked about her past, about the scars that littered her body. He'd asked, and she'd answered without truly answering, and somehow that had been enough. Somehow, Charley cared enough, trusted enough, to take her non-answers on faith and assume she was being truthful about the rest.

Eight years later, he'd burst back into Sarah's new home, her new life. The life built after she abandoned him without explanation. Charley burst in and went straight to work on Derek, not bothering to ask why there was a dying man in his dead fiancé's kitchen. Of course, that hadn't lasted. Charley pressed and pressed hard about all the lies, about Sarah's lack of trust. About the faith he'd shown her that hadn't been reciprocated. Charley grilled her about all these things, but he had the decency to wait, to save the questions for a better time. Sarah guessed it was a skill that came with his job. Go in, fix the problem, shelve the rest until crisis had been averted. It was a skill he practiced every day, it wasn't like Charley was giving her special treatment. Still, she loved him for his ability to wait, for his ability not to question.

Sarah was incredibly grateful to learn that some things didn't change. They weren't engaged anymore and Charley's wife was dead, and he probably hated Sarah now, but apparently some things didn't change. Because when she showed up at the lighthouse, Charley didn't press for answers.

His expression upon seeing her was something Sarah wouldn't forget. There was shock. And relief. And bitterness. She'd only seen him once since Michelle's death. She'd met him here, given him the dog, showed him the alarm, then showed him where the guns were hidden. One visit, a long while ago, but Sarah remembered the bitter resentment well enough. She hated what she'd done to him, hated the look in eyes that used to be kind and loving.

Following the initial shock at having her walk into his house as though it were an everyday occurrence, Charley started in with the questions. They were halting, disjointed as he battled the relief, the anger, all of it. He'd seen the footage of her arrest, heard about the breakout. Sarah didn't bother responding to that. Of course he'd seen, everyone in Los Angeles had probably seen. It was old news now. Even the riot at the jail, her escape, all of that was already on the backburner. Charley had his TV on as they stood across from each other in his living room. Sarah watched images of the destruction at Zeira Corp. It hurt to do that, to be reminded again of all she'd lost in that basement, but she'd take any excuse not to look Charley in the eye.

Charley opened his mouth to speak. Sarah knew already what would come. Where were her usual accomplices in insanity? Cameron, Derek. Where was John? Before he could ask, James Ellison walked through the door, carrying a tearful redheaded child in his arms. The two men locked eyes over Sarah's shoulder. The little girl tightened her grip and hid her face upon seeing another stranger. Charley looked at his ex-fiancé again. Sarah's face was blank, a mask of stone so different from what he'd seen in Nebraska. He couldn't read her expression, but her eyes were pleading with him. Charley shelved his need for answers, gesturing for the bizarrely matched trio to come further inside.

Sarah's reappearance jolted him enough that Charley didn't recognize the girl immediately. It took him an extra half-second to recognize Savannah Weaver, Sarah's alleged kidnap victim. He wanted to ask, but waited. The dog approached and provided instant distraction as Savannah wriggled free of Ellison's hold and approached Charley's most basic form of protection. She hugged and petted the dog, and the animal reciprocated by licking the salty moisture from her face. Charley got the two of them set up in a corner, Savannah addressing him for the first time as he moved back towards Sarah and Ellison.

"Mommy won't let me have pets," she said quietly. "She's gone now, she's not coming back," the child added. This started a fresh round of tears. The dog whined in apparent sympathy, gently licking her face again. Charley looked back at the other adults, waiting for someone to say something comforting. Ellison opened his mouth, but Sarah beat him to it.

"We don't know that, Savannah."

Charley's frown grew impossibly deeper. It was clear that she'd gone for maternal reassurance, but her words sounded forced, clipped. Again, Charley fought the urge to question why Ellison was here and no one else.

"But she's not here. Why isn't she here?"

This time, it was Ellison who spoke. He said something about mommy being away, about looking after Savannah. This earned a sharp look from Sarah, but no comment. The comments came a short while later. The girl had suffered a trying couple of days, and it eventually caught up with her. As she started to doze, Ellison lifted her again. Sarah jerked her chin towards the guest room and he nodded, heading off in that direction. The dog followed, seemingly intent on keeping watch over the youngster.

"What the hell's going on here?" Charley asked. He was angry and it showed, and it irritated. him that the concern showed as well. "I tried calling John, after I saw-"

"We got new numbers," she replied curtly.

The anger increased as the concern dissipated. She always talked to him like that, like he was just another complication that she wished to be rid of. He'd loved her, was sure she loved him. Then she left and blew up a bank and ever since then, he'd been just a complication. "You don't do that. Not this time, Sarah. You told me to stay away, I finally took the hint."

Sarah Connor, the unshakable mother of the future nearly flinched. The tone wasn't even that bad. Derek had said worse things in a harsher voice, more times than she could count. Derek was not Charley.

Charley wasn't even yelling, his voice was barely raised. This was only for Savannah's benefit, and Sarah knew that, and it hurt. It shouldn't hurt, not when compared with everything else, with John's departure. Charley hating her shouldn't matter. She'd almost hoped for it, the hate. Hate would make forgetting easier.

"I finally got it," Charley continued, oblivious to Sarah's inner turmoil. "And now here you are again. You don't come here after a jailbreak, with a kidnapped child, and act like I have no right to ask."

"She's not kidnapped," Sarah argued. "Her mother told Ellison to pick her up, he picked her up."

Charley had to step closer just to hear her response. Sarah's voice was unusually quiet. Not soft, there wasn't any tenderness to it. It was just…quiet. And distant. "Her mother. The mother who's gone."

"Her mother is dead, her real mother. Replaced by one of the machines."

"Replaced…? Sarah, that's…"

"Crazy?" she offered, a humorless smirk curving her lips. "Yeah, it is." And yet he wondered why she hadn't told him the truth. Briefly, she explained that some terminators were better than others, capable of more tricks.

"You knew about her mother. That's why you took her."

"We didn't know about the mother, not when we took her the first time."

"Then why…?" Charley shook his head. He couldn't do this. Sarah Connor had drained him of most everything, including the energy needed to pry out meaningful responses. However, the reference to a 'we' had reminded him of yet another question. Eventually, she'd have to answer at least one. "Where are the others? Where's the…robot girl?"

That got him another joyless turn of her lips. "Cyborg girl. Cybernetic organism. She's outside, in the trunk."

It would be awhile before he and Ellison hauled the metal out of the trunk. For now, Charley assumed Sarah's reply to be a sad excuse for a joke. "Derek?"

The look of deliberate blankness cracked, just for a moment. "Derek's gone. We went to grab the kid and Derek didn't make it."

That brought Charley up short. He wasn't sure how to react. From the looks of it, Sarah wasn't sure how to react either. "How…how's John? How's he taking it?"

Sarah couldn't stand it. The worry, the concern. From the only one alive who cared for John half as much as she did. Sarah turned away from Charley, putting her back to him while she tried not to shake. She wished Ellison would come back. If Ellison came back, she could look at him and be angry, and she'd have a reason to keep it together. If it was just Charley…Derek had been right. Cameron had been right. Sarah was weak where Charley was concerned and if Charley, just Charley, kept prodding her about John, there would be a lot more weakness. Weakness she couldn't afford, now or ever.

"Sarah?" Charley asked. The fact that she'd turned away, backed down, made him very apprehensive. "Sarah. Where's John?"

Sarah couldn't speak. If she spoke the words, it would make them true. Her throat tightened painfully.

"John's gone."

Sarah whirled. Ellison had returned. His words were gentle enough, but they pierced her worse than a knife. The T-1000 slicing through her arm had been nothing compared to this. John. Gone. Eyes flying to Charley, Sarah realized too late what Ellison had done. He said John was gone. She'd told Charley that Derek was gone. Had she been standing closer, Sarah very likely would've strangled the former FBI agent.

If she'd ever doubted Charley's love for John, she couldn't anymore. Charley was ashen. During the millisecond it took Sarah to turn around, every bit of color had drained from his face. Sarah had forced herself to avoid looking at him as much as possible during Michelle's kidnapping. But she'd still seen his face as his wife lay dying in his arms. The expression he wore now was not entirely dissimilar.

"John's alive," Sarah stated forcefully, glaring at Ellison over Charley's shoulder. "John's alive." Saying it again might guarantee that it was true. Maybe if she said that John was here, that would be true too. He'd walk in and she'd hug him, and so would Charley, and it would all be okay.

The explanations finally came. Sarah talked, Ellison put in a word here and there. The sound of his deep baritone grated on her nerves. Charley was mostly silent. No doubt he could see how stretched she was. He probably knew she was looking for any excuse to stop telling him what she was telling him.

"You," he began after she'd finished. "You let him go? You just let him…" It wasn't what Charley meant to say, but now it was there, hanging between them.

The shock, the incredulity, had Sarah looking him in the eye for the first time in awhile. Shock and incredulity she could take. Through the protective numbness that seemed to have overtaken her, Sarah kept wondering what she'd been thinking, berating herself for screwing up so badly. But the accusations made within her own head were nothing compared to the accusation she heard in Charley's voice, never mind that he already looked repentant.

"Yeah," Sarah replied, voice a strange mixture of hollowness and anger. "Yeah, I just let him go." Green eyes flashed dangerously at the insinuation that it'd been easy. Charley hated her now. He thought it had been easy for her to leave, and then to trash his life.

"Sarah…" Charley stepped closer. He'd wanted nothing to do with her for the longest time, but now he wanted to touch, to comfort. Like he had on the few times that he'd caught her staring off into the distance, a pained look on her face. He'd asked and she'd brushed it off, and eventually he'd stopped asking. But he'd still wanted to make her feel better. He wanted that now, even knowing that there was nothing he could do or say. A smaller part of himself railed against this thought, against the idea that he still cared.

Sarah backed up and waved him off. And then, out of nowhere, she answered another question, telling him the real reason she'd come back into a life that she'd ruined. She told Charley what she needed from him, what Savannah needed from him.

Ellison was livid. Clearly Sarah hadn't made him privy to this plan of action. The ex-cop trod carefully before, very aware of the precariousness of his situation with Sarah Connor, as well as Sarah's mental state after the events at Zeira Corp. Hearing her plans for the redhead made caution an impossibility.

Charley did his best to process it all while Sarah and Ellison went back and forth, their voices getting progressively louder. Ellison wanted the girl with him. Sarah didn't trust him. He'd done nothing to earn it. What gave Sarah the right to make this decision? What gave Ellison the right to do the same? On and on it went, and Charley observed everything with a mild sense of detachment. He thought that Sarah was in a state of shock. He thought that he was, too.

As they argued about whether or not Charley would take responsibility for the child, both seemed to forget that Charley was still in the room. He didn't remind them, didn't know what would come out if he forced his mouth open. So Charley remained a passive observer while Sarah and Ellison discussed Savannah's fate, along with his own.

It was Savannah herself who eventually broke things up. Despite her exhaustion, sleep had not been restful. She rejoined the adults, rubbing her eyes and whimpering about bad dreams. Ellison went towards her but Sarah beat him to it, glaring over her shoulder so the child wouldn't see.

Dropping to one knee so she'd be at Savannah's level, Sarah smiled softly, brushing tears off of small cheeks. "Nightmares aren't any fun, are they? I know."

"What's wrong, why was everyone yelling?"

"We weren't yelling," Sarah refused, pushing strands of red behind the girl's ear. "Savannah, remember we talked about my friend Charley?"

Savannah nodded, looking past Sarah to the man in question. Charley smiled automatically, aching for the tearful little girl.

"Charley's a very nice man," Sarah continued. "He's one of the best people I've ever known."

Her back to him, Charley couldn't see her face as she said this. But he did hear a crack in Sarah's voice as she finished the sentence. It was faint, nearly impossible to catch, but it was there.

"He's a good man, and he's going to take very good care of you."

Charley resented her beyond words for that one. Because once Savannah looked at him again with a question in her eyes, what was he supposed to say? After Sarah's little declaration, what the hell was he supposed to say? There was no choice after that, not even the illusion of one. Ellison wanted to think otherwise. He shepherded the kid back into Charley's guestroom, cracked the door, then he rejoined them and the argument continued. Charley let it go, waiting for Ellison to accept the inevitable. Neither of them had a say in this, Charley understood that. Understanding didn't do much for the anger.

Before dragging Ellison away, Sarah talked with Charley just outside the back door. She wanted things brief, kept glancing at Ellison, still visible within. She was relatively certain that he wouldn't make a grab for Savannah. But at one point, she'd been relatively certain that fate had been averted, that she and John could live a good life with a good person.

"So this is how it works. Stay away from me, unless it's a real emergency."

"Are you saying that you didn't want me away?"

Matching sarcasm. Truth be told, this little discussion was a formality. Sarah said he was a good man. Soft-hearted, sap. That's what she really meant. She'd known damn well that just looking at the kid would do it, would remove Charley's options. "What do you want from me, Sarah?"

"Protect her."

"Why not Ellison? He seems willing enough." This was pointless. Charley already knew what would happen, what some part of him wanted to happen. Fighting it was pointless, but Charley wanted to say that he'd at least tried.

"Ellison doesn't know what he's doing. He's seen a lot, but he still doesn't understand what he's up against."

"And I do," Charley stated, thinking of Michelle.

Sarah nodded minutely, even though there'd been no real question. She averted her eyes for half a second. "You do. I'm sorry."

"Sorry. For what happened in there? For Michelle? What are you sorry for?" He hadn't realized how angry he still was, not until this moment.

"All of it. I'm sorry for all of it, but I don't have a choice here. Neither does Savannah."

"Savannah has you, right? You're the expert."

Sarah did her best to ignore his tone. "Ellison can't take care of her, I can't either."

"You took care of John."

She scoffed at that, without humor. "John's gone, like Ellison said. John spent the better part of the last year hating me." It was an exaggeration and she knew that, but just now it felt like a very minor exaggeration. "I guess you know something about that."

Charley released a deep, weary sigh. He opened his mouth to say something. That John was incapable of hating her, that he was incapable of hating her, Charley wasn't sure which. Sarah forestalled anything that might've left his mouth.

"I can't do both. I can't stop Judgment Day and take care of her at the same time." It was a tough admission, but an honest one. She'd tried with John, really tried, and 25 years later, here they all were. "I can't trust Ellison, I can't do it by myself, and Savannah can't be left alone." A beat of silence. When she spoke again, her voice was much quieter. "You shouldn't be alone either."

"So this is what? My wife's dead, and you make up for it by giving me a dog and a kid?" Charley couldn't believe that he still wished to wound her. That with John gone, he still wished to wound her. Maybe it was because of John's absence. Charley's worry for the boy was clouding his judgment. Numbing him to the fact that Sarah was halfway to breaking already, that further pushing would not be good.

Sarah wanted to snap. Wanted to remind Charley that she'd done her best, that she'd tried to keep him safe. The defense would've sounded flat, to both of them. "I have no one left to ask," she told him, another moment of raw honesty. "I have no one left to trust. I need this from you."

The argument had been a formality. Sarah's words put an end to the charade.

Ellison was not pleased with the arrangement, but finally came to understand that he had to get over it. This was Sarah Connor's show, inherited from Kyle Reese. Ellison let her call the shots, allowed himself to be ordered around, and contented himself with occasional phone calls to Savannah. The revelation that his boss had been a terminator made it clear once and for all that he really knew nothing of what he was dealing with. Grudgingly, he let Savannah go and deferred to the person who'd spent most of her life in this hell.

Savannah was understandably hesitant. Mr. Ellison was all that remained of her old life, and she didn't want to be separated from him. But Sarah was right; Charley was a nice man, even though he seemed sad a lot of the time. He was nice and he reminded her of Daddy in some ways.

Charley was amazed at how quickly he fell in love with the girl. He'd always wanted kids, always assumed there'd be plenty of time later. That was before he discovered how precious the time really was. Savannah needed him, gave him something to focus on besides his own grief and resentment. She seemed mildly surprised by every kind gesture on his part, like she'd forgotten what kindness from an adult felt like. He mentioned this to Sarah early on, and her eyebrows went towards her hairline.

"She was being raised by a terminator for who-knows-how-long. Are you surprised that she's starved for affection?"

The words were not flippant, but they grated on him. He hurt deeply for her, but Sarah's presence still grated on him. And she was present. For someone with no interest in raising Savannah, the brunette sure spent enough time with her. She kept showing up to teach the girl things, things that Charley wasn't qualified to educate her on. He and Sarah spoke as little as possible during these visits, sparking uncomfortable questions from the child. If you and Sarah are friends, how come you never talk to each other? That one came every time Sarah left. Once, the child reversed the names and asked Sarah the same question. As usual, she didn't get an answer, but after the look on Sarah's face, Savannah vowed not to ask again.

Charley hated her being there, but then he didn't. He hated what seeing her did to him. It wasn't just Michelle anymore. Now, irrationally, he blamed her for John, just a little bit. But the fact that she cared for Savannah, enough to do more than dump her in Charley's lap…

Savannah didn't know what to make of Sarah's visits. Sometimes…often…the woman was gruff and short with her. She talked only when necessary, only when confirming that Savannah understood something very important. Sometimes, Sarah reminded the girl of Mommy, the way she was after Daddy died. But sometimes Sarah would be like Uncle Charley. She'd talk in a sweet, reassuring voice, and only then would Savannah remember that John was Sarah's son, that Sarah was a mommy as well.

Charley was well aware of Sarah's tendency to run hot and cold toward the child, and it infuriated him. However, he couldn't think what to do for it, and he couldn't tell Sarah to stay away. Ellison would've liked that, but Ellison was still naïve enough to think that Savannah could disappear into a normal life, a normal childhood. Charley knew better, knew that Sarah's knowledge could very well be the thing that kept Savannah alive. He knew, but he remained pissed as hell at her for confusing the child.

It took three weeks for things to come to a head. Sarah was in the living room with Savannah, a set of blocks between them as they sat on the floor. She was trying to teach. The girl was behind, so far behind John at her age, and Sarah was doing her best to close the gap. She hated herself for comparing them, hated that she had any reason to. Savannah was difficult for her. She couldn't see the girl without seeing John, seeing past mistakes. She was constantly torn between a need to pull the child towards her and a need to avoid emotional attachment. Everyone who mattered was gone. Even Charley was lost to her, in all the ways that mattered. She couldn't lose another child to this life, but she couldn't seem to stay away from that child either.

In the living room, on the floor, Sarah was trying to remember that Savannah was not John. She couldn't speak to Savannah like she'd spoken to John at that age. But Savannah wasn't paying attention, and keeping her eyes up was one of the basics. Savannah had her head down, her eyes staring listlessly at the pile of blocks. Patience gone, Sarah demanded, none too gently, to know what the problem was.

Without thinking, Savannah gave the honest answer. That Sarah reminded her of her mother. When she was like this, curt and angry as if being with Savannah was a chore, the girl was reminded forcefully of her mother.

Savannah didn't use that many words, but Sarah got the point. She felt like she'd been punched in the gut. It didn't help to look up and realize that Charley had materialized out of nowhere. He looked incredibly torn up, but Sarah didn't trick herself into thinking that any of the sadness was for her. She counted herself lucky not to see pure hatred in his eyes. Blinded by too many emotions, she stood up and left, ignoring Charley's call of her name and Savannah's apology. The apology sounded genuine, and Sarah knew that she didn't deserve it.

She returned several days later, after five or six messages from Charley had gone unanswered. He didn't even sound angry when he called, and somehow that made it worse. Sarah went through the usual ritual of entering without permission, keying in the alarm code, and letting the dog sniff her. Savannah seemed to like keying in the alarm code, almost as much as she liked the dog. Sarah remembered suddenly that John used to like hitting the call button on elevators. Ignoring the sting that came with the thought of her son, she forced herself to meet Charley's gaze as he came to greet her.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"I'm glad you're here."

Sarah didn't try suppressing her noise of disbelief.

"I was worried," he insisted. "When I didn't hear from you…" Charley didn't know what she and Ellison were up to. He had an idea of where the cuts and bruises came from, but didn't ask for specifics. She'd asked him to look out for Savannah, and he forced himself to worry exclusively about that.

"I'm okay." It was a lie, but Sarah was grateful to Charley for letting it go. She'd been spinning out since John left. She'd hurt herself too many times in those few weeks. She didn't have John or Derek or even Cameron to bug her about taking stupid risks. Charley saw a few of the cuts, but he didn't ask. Usually, Sarah liked that he didn't ask questions. Now though…

"What did you name him?" Sarah asked suddenly, nodding towards the Labrador trotting off in the other direction.

Charley blinked repeatedly, thinking that he must look foolish. "What?"

"The dog, what did you name him? All this time, I never asked." She didn't know why that had changed, except that there were too many silences between them, and she couldn't stand another just now.

"Buddy," Charley replied, a bemused smile curving his lips.

Sarah laughed without meaning to. It felt strange to laugh after such a long time. "Buddy," she repeated.

"Buddy's my buddy, you got a problem with that?" It felt good to see her smile, too good for Charley to think much on what he was doing, on all that he was forgetting.

"No problem, just not the most creative choice, that's all."

"Too ordinary for you?" he teased. "Well maybe I like ordinary. Maybe ordinary is good for some people."

Sarah's smile vanished instantly. "Yeah," she agreed. "I would've loved ordinary too. I know you don't believe that-"

"No," Charley refuted, cutting her short. "I do. I know." And he did. He forgot sometimes, made her think that he didn't get it. With everything between them, Charley sometimes made her think that he didn't understand about her not choosing this life. Sometimes the anger took over and he let her think that way.

The silence she'd tried to fill took over. Sarah solved the problem by following Buddy into Savannah's room, ignoring Charley's voice behind her. When she reached the doorway and got a look inside, Sarah stopped dead.

"Don't say anything," Charley warned lightly. "I would've had it covered if you hadn't shown up and distracted me."

"What did you do?" she asked rhetorically, making her way to Savannah's bed.

"Uncle Charley's not good at braids," Savannah said hesitantly. Her last encounter with Sarah hadn't gone well, but the woman was smiling, so Savannah did the same.

"I would've figured it out," Charley defended himself. Still, he couldn't help wincing at the tangled mess that used to be Savannah's hair.

Shaking her head, Sarah wondered how someone with hands that'd routinely saved people's lives could mangle such a simple operation. She understood now why Savannah's hair was always down or in a ponytail. Grabbing the brush from the edge of the bed, Sarah approached the girl cautiously.

"Want to see if we can't undo some of the damage?"

After a moment's thought, Savannah nodded. Sarah saw the hint of nervousness in her eyes but ignored it, positioning herself behind the child. There was a mirror in front of them that allowed her to see Charley in the doorway. She locked gazes with his reflection for the briefest of moments before he disappeared, saying something about lunch. He might've smiled at her before leaving, but Sarah doubted it.

For long minutes, she combed gently through Savannah's hair, alternating between the brush and her fingers. Watching Savannah's face in the mirror, Sarah saw her expression relax, felt her body start to do the same. Taking a chance, she dropped the brush, pulling lightly until Savannah was situated in her lap.

"I'm sorry," Sarah murmured, punctuating her words with a gentle hug. "I've been mean to you and I'm sorry. I just, I miss my son, the way you miss your mommy."

"I know," Savannah replied, leaning into the embrace. "Uncle Charley told me how sad you were. He told me that sad people can say mean things."

Sarah held in a derisive chuckle. She and Charley both knew something about that. "Well, I'm still sorry. I've been sad and scared, and I took it out on you, and that wasn't right."

Sarah kissed the top of her head and Savannah completely forgot all of the sudden mood changes. Sarah was reminding her of Mommy again, in a good way this time. "Are you scared about John?"

Of course she was. She was scared for the child in her arms, for Charley, for the world at large. "Yes."

"I'm sorry he's not here."

"I'm sorry your mommy isn't here."

Savannah paused before answering. "I don't miss her, the one who left. I miss my real mommy."

Sarah forced herself not to grimace and began rocking the child in her arms. According to Charley, the girl had said things like that several times. Weaver might've pulled the wool over Ellison's eyes, but it seemed that Savannah was a different story. Kid might've been talking in the abstract, but Sarah didn't buy that at this point, not with the look on Savannah's face.

"I know, I know you miss her," said Sarah, her voice low and comforting.

Savannah tried stopping the tears, knowing it was too late. Sarah was watching through the mirror, and Savannah's body was trembling. The trembling got worse as she remembered how Mommy reacted the one time Savannah cried in front of her.

Sarah didn't say a word. With John, a long time ago, she might've said something about the pointlessness of crying. Savannah wasn't John, and Sarah knew damn well that she hadn't been the best mother. Even with the circumstances thrown at her, she could've done better.

Sarah didn't tell Savannah not to cry. Instead, she adjusted her hold until the girl's face was buried against her shoulder. Sarah kept rocking as Savannah's tears wet her neck.

"She's really not coming back is she? My old mommy."

The words were choked with a despair no kid should have to deal with. Sarah held the girl tighter, drawing circles on her back. Charley returned and sat with her on Savannah's other side. Sarah looked at him hard, trying to make him understand that she hadn't caused this. Charley smiled sadly and Sarah realized that he already understood.

There were no lessons that night, no talk of machines or survival. Savannah cried herself out in Sarah's arms and Sarah passed her over to Charley, and then she left. She didn't go far. Charley found her in the garage a short time later, after he had the dog situated by Savannah's bedside and the alarm code keyed in.

It was dark outside, dark and cool. A sharp contrast to the red heat emanating from the garage. During one of her unannounced visits, Sarah had built a crematorium in there, a giant pit like what he'd seen at her old place. Unwillingly, he recalled seeing the metal girl standing over the remains of one of her counterparts, the way the light from the thermite danced across her face. Now that light was playing against Sarah's features, and the effect was not flattering. She looked older, more exhausted, more weary than he'd ever seen. Her cheekbones stood out more prominently than he'd realized, and Charley wondered how much she'd been eating.

He couldn't take the image, couldn't stand looking at the results of John's absence. Charley cut his eyes to the right, to the corner where the cyborg lay. She was full of holes that hadn't healed, but the flesh covering her skeleton hadn't rotted at all. Sarah had muttered something about nanites in Cameron's bloodstream. She'd sounded detached when she said it, and Charley knew she was quoting something John had explained to her. For weeks, the machine lay dormant in this garage, except for when Sarah used the thing as a teaching aid. She'd been showing Savannah how the machines worked, showing her the reality they would soon be facing. Then Sarah decided that the girl had learned all she could from the cyborg. Sarah kept saying that they needed to destroy it, but when Charley offered to do the job, she always refused. She kept coming back here, but she kept avoiding the task. Now there was a bath of thermite ready to go, and Sarah barely looked up as he approached.

"She needed that pretty badly. I've been waiting for it to hit, for her to realize…"

"Yeah well, I don't think Weaver was much for talking out feelings and doling out tissues. Sometimes it happens that way, takes awhile to sink in."

"Sometimes," Charley agreed, studying Sarah out of the corner of his eye. The closest she'd come to losing it about John was that first night. After that, she was tough as nails and wouldn't let the subject come up. Maybe Charley should've pushed harder. The heat in the garage had caused Sarah to shed her jacket. Her arms were visible now, and so were the bruises. She spoke again before he could comment.

"We need to burn her," Sarah stated tonelessly, quite aware that this wasn't news to him. She forced herself to meet his eyes. "I need your help. Heavier than she looks."

Charley knew that. He and Ellison were out of breath and perspiring by the time they got the machine corpse settled. "Why now?" he asked quietly.

"It's necessary, long overdue."

Charley took a breath, knowing he was heading into dangerous territory. "And when John comes back with her chip?"

Sarah's flinch was almost undetectable. She hadn't realized that Charley knew. "She can't pass for human anymore. She's useless to us." It was the truth. Even if John came back with his prize, inserting the chip into this body wouldn't be an option. So why was Sarah continuing to stall the inevitable?

"If he comes back with a chip and no body…?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "There's always another body, there's always more of them." Maybe Cameron's chip would end up in a body similar to 'Uncle Bob's.' At least then Sarah wouldn't have to worry about John falling in love with the thing. That thought almost made her laugh. Almost. "Will you help me?"

Charley looked at her for a long moment, stopping only when she walked off towards the machine. At that point, he had no choice but to follow. Together, they heaved the deceptively small frame up and over, hauling it into the fire. Sarah watched the machine burn and Charley tried not to wince at the sounds and smells of melting skin.

After awhile, Sarah spoke. Cameron's remains had long since melted into nothing. "Kyle, John's father, when I met him, he talked about the time travel. Nobody goes home, nobody comes back. That's what he said."

Charley wished she would look at him, but then he didn't. He didn't want to see what was happening in her eyes, in her head.

"I always knew I was going to lose him, just not like this."

Charley couldn't take it. Reaching down, he slipped his fingers into hers. She didn't return the gesture, but she didn't pull away either. "You haven't lost anyone," he argued, realizing too late the poor choice of words.

Sarah finally took her eyes off the pit, favoring him with a mirthless smile. "I've lost everyone, Charley. Everyone."

Releasing her hand, Charley turned her so that she faced him, surprised that Sarah would allow the contact. One hand touching an arm that was too thin, Charley used his other hand to cup her cheek. "I'm here. Savannah's here. And John's going to be here."

Sarah shook her head no while simultaneously leaning into his touch. "Weaver isn't coming back. Neither is John." Her voice broke on the last word and the tears started flowing.

"You don't believe that." If she did, she wouldn't be bothering with any of this. Him, Savannah, burning the endo. She'd have given up on anything and everything.

"You don't know what I believe," Sarah retorted, voice strained with emotion.

"I know you better than you'd like to think," Charley replied, wiping a few tears with his thumb.

"Maybe. And look what that's done to you."

Sarah tried pulling away. Charley pulled her towards him. There was a moment of rigid resistance. She could get away if she wanted, and he'd probably get hurt in the process. And then Sarah sagged against him, hands moving up to fist into his shirt.

Ignoring the slight pain of her nails cutting into his flesh, Charley pulled her tighter against him, one hand rubbing her back while the other combed through her hair. He wanted to tell her what it'd taken him so long to accept. It wasn't her fault. None of the horror in her life was her fault. Charley had never once blamed John, and he couldn't legitimately blame her. Sarah hadn't asked for this. She'd tried, was still trying to stop it. Michelle's death rested on Cromartie's shoulders. Skynet was responsible for Cromartie. Skynet was responsible for everything.

Charley wanted to tell her this, but the sound of her sobbing was distracting him. Sarah's breath came in harsh, agonizing gasps that quickly turned to muffled screams of grief. She pressed harder against him, snaking her arms around his neck and stifling her cries against his shoulder. Charley held her and swayed with her a little and said nothing. Savannah wasn't the only one in need of emotional release.

He'd never seen her cry, certainly never seen her like this. He didn't try empty words of comfort, words Sarah was too far-gone to hear anyway. The only time he spoke was in response to a barely intelligible statement about how she shouldn't have let John go. Charley hated himself a little, knowing that he'd perpetuated the idea of John's leaving being her fault.

"John's coming back," he murmured, still rocking her in his arms.

"No one comes back," she argued, struggling to talk past the tears. "You lose people. That's all."

"You came back. Both of you. I thought you and John were gone and you came back."

Sarah's only reply to that was a loud sob into Charley's neck. Charley held her tighter, riding out the pain of John's loss and trying not to cry himself.