AN: This is my second story. I have the first three chapters written and a great deal of a fourth. I'm just not sure if I want to leave it at the third chapter or not. So I'll put up the first three chapters and then see how the reviews go.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the charaters in the story. )

The rain made the bus ride back from sectionals horrible. Rain, lightning and thunder… The shrill beep of different weather watches and warnings came over the radio speakers every 30 minutes or so. Even though we were happy we had won we all of us did different things to keep ourselves busy so we didn't think about what may happen if these storms unleashed their full furry.

"The angels are river dancing." Brittany told me when I sit down in the seat behind her.

I gave her the same look I usually gave her when Brittany said one of her usual insane remarks. "That's nice…" I replied, covering myself up with a blanket hoping to get some sleep on the trip back.

"That's why it's lightening outside. They are dancing and every time they stomp their feet it makes sparks."

"Really?" I closed my eyes.

"I like the lightening."

"Well maybe they are having a dancing competition?" I asked. "That's why it's storming so much?"

"I think you're right." Brittany said.

"Maybe…" I said, pausing only for a yawn. "They held their competition because they knew we would be heading home tonight and you would be able to watch the show?"

"I like that idea…" Brittany said softly. "I used to sit up on the roof of my house watching the lightening, but my dad said I had to stop. The angels got careless and didn't watch where their sparks were going."

"It's a good thing… We wouldn't have your superb dancing skills if you got hurt."

"I don't know what superb means."

"It means excellent… Wonderful… Best of the best." I mumbled.

"Thank you, Rachel." She said softly.

I drifted off to sleep. The next morning I woke up when the bus came to a halt.

"We're about 2 hours out. So no more stops from here on. Now's the time to get out and stretch, get something to eat."

I stood up and tossed the blanket over the back of the seat. I stretched for a moment taking my time to leave the bus. I noticed Brittany was still leaning against the window her eyes half open.

I shook Brittany's shoulder. "Brittany… Aren't you hungry?"

I knew the girl had a huge appetite for her small size. She never resisted a chance to eat. Brittany's head rolled to one side in an unnatural way.

"Brittany?" I said, a little louder. Brittany fell into the seat when I shook her harder.

I felt her face, it was ice cold. I leaned down close to her mouth. I was sure it was just the way she slept. Had to be… Right? There was nothing. I put my fingers on her neck and felt around, not sure what exactly I was feeling for. I felt nothing.

I bolted from the bus.

"Mr. Shue!" I yelled. I ran as fast as I could to the group as they walked away from the bus. In my panic I fell twice, skinning my knees. "There's something wrong with Brittany!"

"I tried to wake her up and she won't wake up. I don't think she's breathing…"

Mr. Shue ran back toward the bus.

"What did you do to Brittany?" Santana asked, getting into my face.

"Nothing. I just tried waking her up…"

Santana pushed away from me. Mr. Shue came out of the bus carrying Brittany and laid her on the asphalt.

"Brittany?" Mr. Shue called out her name, shaking her head a little.

Our little group gathered around as Mr. Shue checked to see if Brittany was breathing or if she had a pulse.

"Someone call 911." Mr. Shue ordered.

We all looked around at each other.

"Does anyone have a fucking phone?" Santana asked.

I bolted for the store without thinking about going back and grabbing my cell from the bus. I reached the payphone and dialed the numbers for emergency services. I gave the operator all the information I knew. Brittany S. Peirce. 17 years old. She wouldn't wake up, not breathing, no pulse. I didn't know where we were, but I was able to tell the woman the name of the truck stop we were at.

I probably wasn't supposed to hang up, but I did. My friend was laying on the cold asphalt in an unknown condition. When I returned Mr. Shue was doing CPR on Brittany. All I could do was stand there and watch.

"Did she get hurt last night?" Puck asked his eyes full of worry.

That's when I realized that Brittany had huge purple bruises on the side of her face that was leaning against the window. Also her forearm and legs had the same bruises. Other than the bruises I noticed that she was extremely pale, a lot more than she normally was.

The ambulance arrived after only five minutes but it seemed like forever to me, personally. Three men got out each holding different kinds of equipment. One looked at Brittany's bruises and pointed them out to another. The first one shook his head. The second took out a small flash light. He put the flashlight to Brittany's eyes and shook his head.

"Blown…" I heard one say.

The three men stood to the side and whispered softly enough that I couldn't hear them.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Shue said. "Do something!"

"I'm sorry but…" One of the men started, I didn't pay enough attention to find out.

I heard Mr. Shue say something about Brittany's age and how does a girl that young and healthy just… Die.

Die? I looked up at Mr. Shue yelling at the three men.

Why was the word die being used?

Who died?

No… He said die as in dye. Like what you do with colors. That's what had to be what happened. Whatever had to have happened, it was something to deal with colors dying colors.

Hair?

Cloths?

Kids our age don't just… Die.

Right?

No… Kids our ages died all the time. They had sicknesses. Cystic Fibrosis, cancers, AIDS… They had treatments and they fought until they couldn't fight anymore. They died in hospitals, surrounded by family and friends. They had SICKNESSES. There was always warnings and signs. They don't just drop like flies for no reason at all. Healthy one moment while looking at the lightning flashes… Dead by sunrise. That's for old people like my Aunt Greta. She was 90 years old, fell asleep one night and just… Didn't wake up.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Santana.

"You…"

I snapped my head up. Santana was in my face her finger just inches from my face. I opened my mouth and shook my head. I couldn't say anything.

Why would I hurt Brittany? She was kind. No… Brittany IS the nicest person on the face of the planet. She IS sweet and innocent. She SEES the world with her own brand of insanity. Brittany MAKES the world better, why would I do anything too her? If anything, I would trade her places. The world didn't need another singer… The world needed more people like Brittany in it.

Santana pushed me hard and I fell back landing on my backside. I just sit there in shock. Maybe it is my fault? I was behind her on the bus. Why didn't I hear anything unusual? Why didn't I help her? I should have taken CPR classes with my dads. I could have saved her life.

I wracked my brain trying to remember if I had heard anything unusual during the night.

No! I told myself. Stop thinking this way. Brittany is just faking it. Any second now she will wake up and it will all be a horrible practical joke.

I just sit on the cold asphalt staring at Brittany laying just a few yards away. Her eyes still half open looking at nothing really.

Any second now…