Author's note: Based on the song Travelin' Soldier by the Dixie Chicks.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

Brittany's Traveling Soldier

A dark, black-haired girl, two days past eighteen, stood at the bus stop. The sun shone down into her eyes and she raised a hand to shield them, squinting down the dusty, dirt road lined with oak trees. She sighed, hoisting her small green duffel over her shoulder, knowing the bus wouldn't be here for at least another two hours. After slipping her hat back on, the girl turned around and headed over to the local café, her army greens crinkling as she walked, for a bite to eat while she waited. She pulled the glass door open and stepped inside. The warm scent of fresh baked goods and hamburgers enveloped her along with the musty scent of the café itself. She strode across the dark, wooden floor to an empty booth and slid across the red plastic of the seat and rested her elbow on the table.

All around her the other customers chattered away happily, and she caught a few words from the group behind her. Of course, she thought, they were talking about the war, who wouldn't be? A waitress came over to serve her and she looked up at her. The waitress was young, maybe seventeen, she thought, and had long, shoulder length golden hair that was partly pulled up and tied with a large pink bow behind her head. She was wearing a pink country dress that complimented the bow in her hair.

The girl smiled at her and her kind blue eyes sparkled. "What can I get for you?" she asked, pulling out a notepad and pencil from her waist-apron, waiting for her to order.

The Latina's immediate reaction was that beautiful, but probably had a boyfriend. She blushed slightly, and looked down. "Uh, sorry, but," she said, looking up at her again, "Would you mind sitting down for a while and talking to me, I'm feeling a little low."

The girl smiled, tucking a lock of golden bangs behind her ear, finding it flattering that the small girl was so shy. "I get off in an hour and I know where we can go." She told the recruit, tucking the notepad and pencil back into her waist-apron, "Could you wait around for a bit?"

"Yes ma'am." The girl grinned, her blush still apparent.

The hour passed quickly, and the two teenagers were walking down a slightly treaded path through the forest not far from the café, the girl in the lead. After a few more minutes of walking, the couple stopped at the banks of the town's lake.

She turned and smiled at the Latina. "C'mon! Let's go sit." She nodded gratefully and followed her to the pier.

They sat for a few moments in silence, their legs dangling off the end of the pier. The girl took off her hat, holding it in her hands, and took a deep breath.

"I bet you got a boyfriend but I don't care, I've got no one to send a letter to," she paused, looking over to the girl sitting next to her. "Would you mind if I sent one back here to you?" she finished, her raven black eyebrows bent slightly in apprehension.

The girl's eyes widened in surprise, and then she blushed darkly. "Actually, I don't have a boyfriend, but I surely would enjoy it if you did write to me." She smiled shyly, twirling a few strands of her blond hair around her index finger.

The Latina's face split into a wide grin, the sun glinted off her dog tags. "Thank you, ma'am!" she said happily. "My name's Santana Lopez, what's yours?" she asked, then added, "So I don't have to call you 'ma'am' all the time."

"Brittany...um...Hummel." She said, grinning, holding out her hand to Santana. "A pleasure to meet you, Santana!"

"A pleasure to meet you, too, Brittany." Santana smiled, and shook her hand. Santana bent low, pulling her hand up, and kissed it gently, letting go as she sat up again. Brittany blushed even darker and smiled, appreciative and slightly embarrassed. No girl's ever done that! But something told Brittany this one was different, special.

They sat, both pink in the face, quiet for a moment, and then began to laugh. The sounds of their laughter echoed out across the shimmering, glassy surface of the lake, and a few ducks looked over curiously to see where the noise had come from. The sun was setting now, and the lake glowed orange. Santana and Brittany talked about the war, and Brittany had so many questions for her that it was nearly dusk when they stood to leave.

Three days passed, and so came the time when Santana had to leave with the other recruits enrolled in the army who had missed the last bus. She stood there, holding Brittany's hands in hers, clad fully in her army uniform.

"I promise, B, I'll write to you every chance I get." Santana promised, her dark brown eyes sad.

Brittany nodded, her pink bow shaking slightly, and bit her lip. "Stay safe, Santy." Then added as a stab at humor, "You don't want me to come down there and make you, do you?" she laughed quietly, Santana did the same.

"Brittany, I…" Santana was cut off by the bus's engine roaring to life. Both looked quickly over to the large green bus, men and women in identical green clothing were climbing its steps and seating themselves

"Go, Santana!" Brittany said quickly, ushering her towards the line up.

Santana turned around to face her, opening her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and pulled her face up to hers and pressed her lips against Brittany's. The kiss surprised Brittany, but she didn't pull away and placed her hands onto her shoulders. Santana pulled away and held her face for a moment, a pained expression on her face.

"I have to leave," he said, as though it were an apology, "Brittany, I'll write." she promised again.

With one last look over his shoulder, the raven-haired girl climbed up the stairs and walked through the bus to take a seat at the very back. Santana set her duffel bag on the seat next to her and twisted to face out the rear-view window. Through the dusty window, she could see Brittany standing on the side of the road. Her blond hair shone in the light of the dying sun, she had her hands clasped near her throat and watched her. Santana felt a lump rise in her throat and she put her hand against the glass, not breaking eye contact with her.

Brittany stood on the overgrown side of the dusty dirt road, biting her lip, watching Santana. She saw her put her hand up to the window and her heart did a somersault. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she waved, smiling bravely.

Santana smiled sadly, her heart breaking, and kept her hand pressed against the window. The bus gave a jolt and began to roll on towards its destination. She kept watching Brittany grow smaller and smaller until she vanished completely as the bus rounded a corner. She let go of the window and slumped in her seat, closing her eyes. Santana smiled slightly, seeing her smile in her mind, the sadness faltering for a moment. Just wait, Britt, she thought, opening her eyes again and watched the trees flashing past her window. I'll come back for you.

The wind gusted Brittany's bow and tossed her hair as she watched the bus drive away, becoming smaller and smaller, until it rounded a corner and disappeared. She clapped a hand to her mouth and closed her eyes, saying a little prayer for Santana. Please, Santy, come back safely. The blond thought with her hand still at her mouth, and turned to walk back across the bridge towards the café and town.

The first letter arrived the following Monday, the postal stamp confirming it was from the army base in California. Brittany's heart pounded with anxiety as she took the letter from the mailman. She thanked him and ran back inside her house, shutting the door behind her. Sliding her finger to rip the seal, she eagerly pulled the paper out, unfolding it, and began to read Santana's neat handwriting.

Dearest Brittany,

It's Friday today, and we've just finished orientation and standard battle/ combat procedures. I haven't told any of the other woman in my quadrant, but I'm scared. I'm so scared that I won't make it through the war, but then I think of you and I find the courage to get out of bed in the mornings.

Brittany covered her mouth, slumping against the pale yellow wall. A tear ran down her cheek as she continued reading the letter, chuckling at her jokes and smiling sadly.

I'm sorry this letter is so long, but I just wanted to tell you I miss you, and I'll come home for you, Brittany. Stay well, and I hope my next letter reaches you as well.

Love,

Santana.

Brittany's heart jumped at the written word, and she grinned, hanging onto the flicker of hope that she had given her.

"Brittany?" Her brother, Kurt Hummel in a blue dress shirt and black slacks, came around the corner from the hallway and stopped in the foyer, putting his hand on his hip. "Is that a letter from that black-haired girl you were spending so much time with?" he asked, raising a brown eyebrow.

Brittany's heart sank a bit. "Yes it is, Kurtie."

Her brother sighed; running his hand through his trimmed caramel hair. "You're too good for her," he told her, "Too young to be waiting for the love of a travelin' soldier." he said with a tinge of disapproval and folded his arms. "You shouldn't be too hopeful, not very many young people make it back." Her brother spoke, turning away, "They're too cocky, they get full of themselves…"

"Is that what you think Finn is, then?" Brittany demanded, clenching the envelope in her hand. "He's the same age as Santana, Kurtis Bartholomew! And he's your brother! He's out there, fighting with Puck and Santana, just in case you forgot." Her brother was silent, his arms still crossed over his chest.

Brittany's tears rolled down her cheeks and she stormed off to her room, passing her brother in the hallway, and slammed her door behind her. The quiet darkness of her room surrounded her and she slid down the door, crouching and covering her eyes, sobbing.

Brittany rushed out the door on Thursday morning, a week later, to meet the mailman who had become accustomed for her eagerness to receive the letters. As she approached him, the mailman smiled.

"It's from 'er, lil' miss!" he grinned, nodding enthusiastically with his gray hair poking out from under his cap, and held out the letter to her.

"Thank you!" she beamed and took the letter, opening it as she ran back inside, shutting the door behind her.

Brittany glanced around the foyer and into the living room to see if her brother was around, then ran into her room, shutting the door quietly. She pulled the folded paper from inside and reached over to flick on the light switch when she heard a dull clanking sound. Brittany turned on the light and looked down at her feet to see a gold class ring, she bent over and picked it up.

"I wonder why she sent this?" Brittany asked herself, she strode over to her bed and sat down, sinking into the cloud-print comforter.

Dearest Brittany,

We've been fighting in Vietnam for about a week now, I lose track of time sometimes. It's Sunday as I write this, and we've just eaten. My squad is heading back out in an hour or so, so I chose to write this letter now.

On the battlefield is the scariest place in the world. Bombs exploding, comrades dying, the war planes flying overhead. Firing a gun at a man is the most terrifying thing I have ever done. But when it's gettin' kinda rough over here and when we're hiding in the trenches, I close my eyes and think about that day on the pier, I see your pretty little smile, and I can't help but find a little patch of heaven amongst all this hell. Thank you, Brittany.

Being out here and being exposed to all this horror and evil, makes one realize how fragile life is. When I come back, Brittany Hummel, I'm going to make you my wife, if you'll consent, of course. I love you and I miss you each passing day. I have to go in a bit, so I'll write a good-bye.

Don't worry, but I won't be able to write for a while. I'll be okay. Stay safe; I hope I will be able to come home soon.

Love,

Santana.

Brittany sat in shock.

"She just… Proposed…" she whispered, re-reading the sentence.

Then a grin spread across her face and she closed her eyes. She laughed joyfully, tears forming in the corners of her eyes and hugged the paper tightly.

"She proposed!" she laughed, flopping down onto her bed. She was as happy as she could ever remember being, and she hugged the letter again. Brittany jumped to her feet, slipped on Santana's ring and grabbed the large yellow duck off her bed and swung him around, dancing across the cream-colored carpet.

Brittany went down to the football stadium near the center of town Friday evening to watch their state's football team play the qualifying match to get into the semi-finals. She pushed herself through the crowd, clutching her ticket, and managed to get a seat near the bottom of the bleachers. She sat in her little pink dress with a large red bow tied up in her hair. She took in her surroundings, watching the crowd hustle and bustle, talking and laughing happily finding their seats. The people were a sea of swarming colors, blending together because Brittany was too preoccupied to focus on them. I'm going to be married! The thought brought a bright grin to her face.

The anthem was sung, and the Lord's Prayer said. Then a short, portly man in a navy blue suit took the microphone in the middle of the field.

"Folks, would you bow your heads for a list of local Vietnam dead." he said in a gruff voice into the microphone. He began to list the names of the soldiers who had died in combat.

"Santana Lopez…" he said, continuing on down the list.

Brittany 's body went numb. "No…" she whispered, horrified. Her hands rose to her mouth. She looked around slowly, her ears ringing with the silence of the crowd. Nobody really cared, but a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair.

"No…" she said again, stepping off the bleachers and began to walk towards the exit. Tears welled up in her blue eyes and she wiped them away furiously.

Brittany heard crying behind her, and glanced over her shoulder to see the piccolo player from the marching band sitting in his red uniform underneath the bleachers, his head in his hands, sobbing. He looked up once, and they shared a brief moment of eye contact; they both understood each others pain.

And then the pretty little girl with a bow in her hair turned and ran out of the stadium, tears blurring her vision.

Ooo

Her brother's words echoed inside her head as she ran. "You shouldn't be too hopeful, not very many young people make it back."

"No!" she screamed, running through the woods.

"…Not very many young people make it back."

"No!" Brittany screamed again, heading for the pier on the lake.

"…Make it back."

She stopped at the end of the wooden planks and dropped to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Santana…" she sobbed and coughed, her whole body shuddering. "Oh god…Santana…" Brittany put her hand on the spot where she had sat next to her and closed her eyes; she hung her head, letting her tears fall onto the planks beneath her. She lay down, covering her face with her hands and sobbed, she cried until the moon shone high above and the crickets sang their chirping.

"Never gonna hold the hand of another person…" she said, sniffling, making a promise to herself.

The moonlight fell across her trembling form, making her skin glow a deathly white and cast dark shadows across her eyes. They looked hollow and empty, as though they were eyes of a skull. Her bow slipped from her hair and fell into the lake, sinking gracefully to its murky depths. To the night, she looked already dead.

Author's note: I wrote this in memory of my dad who recently died on tour with his unit. But if you guys want, I'll write a alternate ending chapter. Please review.