Reality was such a strange thing to experience after being away for so long. Mothers still walked with their children to and from the grocery store, cars still drove along smooth highways, people still strolled through parks, fed the ducks and looked up to the clear blue skies.

But nothing could stop the way your eyes shifted over everything, constantly scanning your surroundings. You still instinctively tensed at the sound of planes, and you couldn't stop the shakes. You still groped in your pocket for your dog tags; you still reached up to the necklace hanging on your neck. Nothing stopped the crisp clip of your boots, or the orders you still hear when people shout your name. You walk and observe, and it feels like a trap. It feels like you are about to be ambushed and you can't stop yourself reaching for the M16 rifle you no longer carry. You look down, expecting to see sand and rocks, and an army uniform, but you are wearing jeans and chucks not boots, and you are staring at the floor in the middle of a shopping mall. You never truly leave the War, and the War never truly leaves you.

They don't see what you see, not the ghosts or the enemies, they see a young woman with black hair and tan skin, walking in a pair of jeans and chucks and a singlet, holding a shopping bag, wandering around a mall. This reality is less real to you than the place you left behind. The tiles are too sharp in their whiteness and the edges of the buildings are too clear cut. The sky is too bright and the noise. There is no constant rumble of guns here, any tanks or shouting men. No warzone. No barracks, no enemy, no raids, no bombs or mines or airplanes. Children shriek and dogs bark and motorbikes roar, and you flinch, hearing screams and wolves and tanks. You are not a solider here. But you can still feel the ghosts of you army uniform as if it is covering your shoulders now, you still see the boots on your feet- scratched and dirty and filled with sand. You can still feel the dog tags in your pocket and the picture in your chest pocket. You can still feel the heavy metal medals dangling of the chest of your uniform, and your heart is still alive with fear.

You can still feel the hot sun beating down on you, and your pack weighing you down like lead. You can still hear your comrades and you can still feel the letters you received sparsely. You can still taste the rations and the canned food and the muddy water. You still feel the cold showers of the camp and the unwashed feel of your uniform. You still see the people, and the raids, and the enemy and the sky and the heat. You cannot believe you are home, but even that comfort has been taken from you, as you really cannot believe you are home. Guns flash before your eyes and ghost pains tear apart your chest.

Somewhere you hear a child's shriek and your head transforms it into a twisted scream and you freeze; breathing rapidly. You are there again. You mouth is filled with copper and rocks dig into your belly as you crawl to safety. Guns are going off all around you and the stench of gunpowder fills the air. Crouching behind the wall you cock your gun and prepare to fire. You twist your torso, turning the corner with your gun ready. No sooner as your head pokes out does your eyes widen and you see the unthinkable coming towards you. The sounds of war fade to a horrible high pitched whine and you are bleeding, and your chest is broken, and your leg…. You heart is beating like a drum and your head is splitting open and then…. then…

Suddenly you are not seeing the war, the guns, or the desert anymore. You are jolted out of the nightmares as someone places their hand on your forearm and asks you if you are okay.

You instinctively flinch against the touch, the past still burnt into your paranoid mind; but the fingers are smooth and the voice is gentle and caring and soft. Your shoulders slowly un-tense themselves and you blink your eyes open, snapping out of it as a face appears in your vision and you realise where you are. You stumble shocked at the sight of your real surroundings but a firm hand stops your fall. Your eyes are still darting around and you can't believe you just freaked out in the middle of a shopping mall.

'' Hey, are you okay?''

''H-huh?''

With your heart going a thousand miles a minute and your breathing ragged and terrified you look up to the face of your rescuer and stutter out between your cracked and broken lips, '' Y- yeah… '' You wipe your forehead and your eyes fall to the floor, a blush eminent on your face. You close your eyes for a second, trying to remain calm, and finish your sentence. '' I- I'm okay... ''

The woman looks at you with kind, concerned eyes, that you notice, are a sparkling blue. She pushes her blonde bangs out of her eyes and you realise she is no older than you. Her eyebrows crinkle anxiously at you, and a pout makes its way onto her face.

'' Are you sure?''

No…

I know I'm not fine…

You thought you were there again… You had thought you were back in the war zone… You… you had felt it again… You place your hand on your chest and breathe deeply, flinching at the pain or the memory of pain- vibrating down your sternum.

It's ragged and broken, but you croak out of your useless lips, '' Y- yeah… '' You stare at one spot past her ear, focusing on controlling your heart rate and breathing, it wasn't real… It wasn't real…. It wasn't real.

Somewhere you register that you are no longer holding your shopping bag, you don't bother to check, but you know that it is on the floor.

Your eyes shut tightly and you repeat your mantra desperately trying to gain some relief by believing it;

'' It wasn't real. ''

The girl gasps quietly in shock and realisation, before pulling you into a hug. You tense against the touch before melting and holding onto her for dear life.

This girl, someone you hardly know, strokes your hair back, and rubs circles on your back calmingly, you can't help it, you feel safe in her arms and for the first time since coming back, you allow yourself to cry.

You keep muttering over and over again, relief clear to her ears, '' It wasn't real, It wasn't real…''Tears run down your cheeks and your fingers grasp at the strangers top, you have to hold on to something, you can't let yourself slip back there again.

And she keeps saying that it's okay, it's okay… everything's going to be okay… And you can't help but believe her.

Your arms tighten around her shoulders and she holds you up. Somewhere you realise she must have dealt with this kind of thing before because she wasn't confused at your behaviour… You are still struggling to admit you have a problem, and that not all scars can be seen.

'' Your home now… You're okay… you'll be okay… ''

Ragged hiccup like sobs break through your chest, '' I will never be home…''

Hello! This is a Two-shot i wrote, i have become slightly obsessed with ARMY!BRITTANA, and Army glee fics, this is just a short two shot, but in the future i'll post the huge army one i'm working on!

Thanks for reading :) tell me what you think!