A short little ficlet where John chooses for the episode "Ourselves Alone" to end differently. I wasn't really planning it, but today at college registration I met a girl who bore a shocking resemblance to the actress who played as Riley Dawson, which brought back to mind the now-canceled Sarah Connor Chronicles and Riley. So I wondered, how would it have turned out if that episode ended positively? Very few TSCC episodes did so. Maybe a few cheerier endings might have done the series a little good.

Just let her go! John growled at himself. It's not real and it never was! He kicked one of the idiotic toys the former owners had left in the room. The small dinosaur bounced off a cabinet and rolled out of sight, vanishing under the childish bed he had been stuck with. He glanced at the objects on the dresser. A black, snub nosed .38 special revolver sat next to a folding knife and a speedloader with five rounds in it, drawing his thoughts back to the social worker. She had asked about firearms being kept in the house.

She wouldn't do that. John mentally restated, hoping it was true. "But why didn't she ask?" The thoughts had turned into words and slipped out. The entire situation made no sense. He added them up again. Cromartie. Mexico. Her friend, that Asian women Derek's been spending time with. That bruise on her head. Her attempted suicide. Burnt skulls. The social worker. He had tried a dozen times to figure it out, finally concluding that Calculus was easier.

A knock on the door yanked him back to the present. He stalked over and opened it with a bit more force the necessary, revealing Cameron. The scent of popcorn drifted up behind her.

"Yes?" He asked, the frustration and anger leaking into his didn't seem to notice.

"Sarah rented a movie, and hopes we could all watch it together." She informed him neutrally. "The Bourne Ultimatum."

"I don't feel like watching a movie." John snapped, walking back to the dresser.

"I don't think she does, either." Cameron replied, ignoring his bad mood. "She seems to be extremely worried, mostly about you. She hopes watching a movie together will help with stress."

"I don't think it will." John said, picking up the handgun and checking it again. Cameron stood there for several more moments, staring at him.

"Is something wrong?" Cameron asked. He looked up at her, and half-thought he saw worry flicker across her face.

"Cameron…" John put the weapon back down. "In the future, I make a lot of decisions, right?"

"Yes." Cameron replied carefully, still looking closely at him.

"Do people think future John does stupid things sometimes?" John pressed, his voice cracking slightly. Cameron nodded. "How do those things turn out?"

"Sometimes they turn out well, and he wins battles." Cameron responded. "Sometimes they turn out badly, and people die."

"But people still follow him. They still trust him to win. You still trust him." John pointed out. Cameron's head tilted slightly to the side, as if she was unsure of where the conversation was going.

"We do." She stated. John picked the compact revolver back up and slipped it into his jacket pocket, the small weapon easily concealed under the leather. The speedloader and the knife went into the other pocket, a few inches away from his left hand.

"I hope, then," John said, walking past her and towards the door, "that you can bring yourself to trust this John, right now."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You called DCFS! You called my school!" Riley said angrily, the words coming out a half sob/ half accusation. "You knew what Cameron would do!" The shattered glass cup shook in her hand. "You wanted her to kill me, because that was the only way he'd turn against her!" Jessie absorbed the words, unmoving. "How could you do that to me?"

The soldier moved, the look of partial shame evaporating as her hand snaked out, grabbing the large vase from the nightstand and hurling it at the teenager, simultaneously lunging forward to attack as Riley brought her hands up defensively. It only took her a few seconds to twist the crude weapon out of the girl's hands and bring it up to her neck, taking control of the situation.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

John froze outside the door, the angry screams catching him off guard, unprepared. Another second ticked by, a hundred thoughts racing through his mind. Another cry reached his ears, muffled through the doors. He tried the knob—it was locked.

"I rescued you from hell!" A woman's voice snarled. "And I took you to paradise!" Something snapped inside John, bringing back that old, familiar feeling.

"Here's to you, Mom." John muttered, taking the revolver out of his pocket. He reared back and kicked with his right leg, moving forward into the strike, mustering all his strength against the barrier. There was a horribly loud cracking sound, and the door flew inwards. John bolted forward, weapon ready. He took several long, rapid steps, moving through the first two empty rooms, rounding corner to the bedroom as a thud sounded from the wall. Time seemed to slow for a few moments as he took in the room. Derek's girlfriend was on the ground, her outstretched hands reaching for something on the stylish coffee table. Riley was a foot to his left, gasping for breath, recovering from a blow. John saw the other woman's hands smack a piece of the table, making a drawer pop out. John's mouth opened but no sound came out as he stepped forward in front of Riley, bringing the .38 revolver up as the woman snatched a pistol out of the drawer and aimed, ready to fire...

But neither did. The woman's face twisted in surprise and recognition as she realized who he was.

"Who are you?" She demanded, the weapon still on him, feigning ignorance.

"I'm John Connor." He declared flatly. He was aware of Riley's shocked silence behind him, even has he spoke. He kept the small revolver trained on the woman's face as he reached out with his left hand and half pushed Riley back, moving towards the door.

"You're John Connor?" The woman asked, the question laced with a slightly mocking, doubtful tone.

"Yes." John confirmed. "I am." He kept backing up, and was grateful when the woman disappearing from sight. Riley didn't speak until they reached the hallway.

"John…" Her voice faded for a moment as the words threatened to turn into uncontrollable sobs. "I'm, I'm sorry. I-"

"I know." He interrupted, giving her a brief, reassuring hug. "It's okay."