Timeline 1 – Last Man Standing

In between the teaching job and working on the hologram there wasn't much time for anything else, but occasionally, like now, he'd place on the table next to his couch a can of John's favourite beer, a glass of Carson's preferred whisky, the bracelet he'd given to Jennifer the week before she fell ill and a necklace made of Wraith bones, given to him by Ronon as a farewell gift.  He smiled sadly at that last item, remembering the mischievous glint that had been lurking in his teammate's eyes at the time.  Ronon had known full well his disgust for such things.  It didn't disgust him now.

Sitting, he took a careful sip of whiskey and opened the large leather bound journal on his lap, written in Teyla's beautiful calligraphic script.  It hadn't been easy to smuggle the journal and Wraith bone necklace out of the SGC, but he hadn't been going to let anyone confiscate them due to their alien provenance.  Jackson had helped, understanding the need to remember; still mourning Sam's death himself.

One of his greatest regrets was that he didn't have anything to remember Sam with, nor Elizabeth, Radek and Ford.  Nothing except the journal. Teyla wrote about them in there, pouring out her hopes and dreams, her love for her team; describing the happy times, and the sad.  All of it written in the flowing Athosian script that he could read so well.

It was a strange fact that some languages could be read as if they were English but others needed to be translated.  The same with spoken languages, most could be understood but a few not.  Various theories had been banded around over the years, about the gate and the Ancients and protocols put in place, but how it worked was still unknown.  He'd understood that Quinn fellow even though he'd never been through a gate at that time, but he couldn't understand Goa'uld, or even Czech; at least, not at first.

But all that mattered to him now was that he could read Teyla's journal; he'd leave others to argue and ponder why.  He had more important concerns to deal with.

Flipping through the pages, he settled on an entry he knew well, remembering why he was working so hard.  He couldn't save everyone; Ford, Grodin, Elizabeth, the original Carson, but he could change the timeline, send John back to them with information to help find Teyla, and then maybe, just maybe, he could save a few of them.  And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't be the last man standing, alone in his grief.  This plan, this small hope, was all he could offer, and it had to be enough.

It had to be. 

Timeline 2 – Time to Breathe

A week had passed since her rescue and the birth of her son and only now had she discovered the full story; how John was thrown into the future; how the Rodney from that timeline spent his life working on getting John home, to save her and, by doing so, his friends.  That Rodney would come up with such a plan and spend the rest of his life working to implement it, did not surprise her as much as perhaps it should do.  He was loyal and if he needed to change the past to save them she had no doubt he would try his best to do so.  It was not a bad thing as such, this determination to save them, but it was worrying the lengths he would go to, had gone to in another life.  Had he ever wondered what right he had to change everyone's lives?  Maybe he had, but he had not let it stop him.  She wished she could ask him, but that Rodney was gone, and this Rodney, their Rodney, would not be able to answer her.

What was done was done, and she was grateful to be alive, with her son and, hopefully soon, Kanaan as well.

A smile lit her face, remembering Rodney's panic over her labour.  It had not seemed funny at the time, but now she looked back with fondness.  His babbling and anxiety were a familiar part of him, an outpouring of the energy that so defined him in her mind.  An energy he turned into determination when there was no alternative left, like he had done so many times before.  And despite his panic he had done what was needed, no matter how reluctantly, and had not even turned pale or passed out.  That was more than some men could say.  She smiled again, remembering how Halling had fainted when Jinto had been born, much to the merriment of all.

She held Torren close, rocking him as he slept in her arms, content as she could be with Kanaan not yet here, listening to the breaths of her child.  A moment to breathe, to relax, to let go.  Sitting in an easy chair, slept crept over her.  She was grateful to that other Rodney, she decided.  Grateful that they were safe, at least for now.