A/N: So this is my first Glee Fanfiction :) This story is based on the song "Travelling Soldier" by the Dixie Chicks, and is definitely AU, meaning Rachel and Puck didn't go to school together and don't know each other. I haven't seen Glee since it took the season break and while I hope I did the characterization some justice, I do fear I might not quite have captured them! I was never too sure how I was going to end this but I wrote what seemed to come from the situation. I hope you'll enjoy it regardless! As usual this was beta'd by my sister and reviews are always loved and appreciated :)

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing. If I did there would be far more Puckleberry action, and Puck would get more solo's.

Travelling Soldier

She'd been watching him for a while. He'd been sitting outside watching people as they passed by, no one paying him any attention. Eventually he'd stood and slowly made his way across the street and into the cafe where she worked. She'd taken in his appearance as he sequestered himself in a booth at the back, hiding himself from the other patrons. He was tall, with deep hazel eyes and a well chiselled face, his features attractive. His head was shaved, except for a single strip that ran from the front of his head to the nape of his neck – it had been a while since she'd seen anyone supporting a Mohawk, and it instantly piqued her interest. But more than that she took in the green clothes he was wearing – she'd seen it so much it was unmistakeable. It was his army uniform. She chewed her bottom lip before bustling over to him, a pad of paper in her hand. She stopped by his booth and he looked up at her, his hazel eyes kind yet filled with sadness. She shot him a small smile to ease his nerves before she spoke.

"What can I get you?" She asked kindly, briefly readjusting the ridiculous white bow she was forced to wear with her uniform. Although initially she'd complained, she'd grown accustomed to wearing it, telling herself it was merely a costume, and as an actress she may be forced to wear things she didn't always want to.

"Uh... I'll just take a coffee." He replied, putting down the menu as she moved away to get his order.

She returned a few minutes later, a steaming mug of coffee in her hands as she placed it down in front of the young man. He gave her a weak smile and she turned to leave, stopping when she felt a hand on her arm. She spun around to look at him, her face painted with confusion.

"Sorry." He said quickly, pulling his hand away. "I uh... I'm having a pretty rough day. I don't know – you seem kind of nice."

"Thank you." She giggled.

"Anyway, I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind like... I don't know talking to me or something." He continued, and she could see this wasn't easy for him to admit. "Shit – I'm no good at this stuff. I'm just feeling kind of low right now."

"I can't." She replied sadly, and he nodded his head in understanding, turning back to his coffee with a look of disappointment in his eyes. "But I get off shift in an hour if you don't mind waiting." He looked up at her, his eyes filled with hope as he nodded gently. "I know this little place we can go." She turned to leave but he caught her arm again.

"What's your name?" He asked quickly, knowing she had to get back to work.

"Rachel." She smiled, holding out her hand to shake. "Rachel Berry."

"Noah Puckerman." He replied, gripping her hand gently. "But everyone calls me Puck."

"Yeah, I think I'll stick with Noah." She laughed before walking away.

The hour passed far too slowly for either of their liking, but eventually Rachel was tugging on her coat and heading over towards Noah, who had since ordered several coffees and was just finishing off his last. He stood and grabbed the canvas bag he had with him, slipping it over his shoulder and allowing her to lead him out of the establishment. She wandered down the quiet Ohio streets, Noah's presence at her side as they walked in companionable silence. Eventually she led him to the small bench looking out across the water where they sat together, not exchanging words.

"Thank you for doing this." Puck said, breaking the awkward silence despite knowing it wasn't badass. She turned and smiled at him, and for a split second it felt like all of the weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "I'm not normally-"

"This forward?" Rachel supplied, giving him a reassuring look. Puck laughed awkwardly before he continued.

"I was going to say shy, but forward works too." They both laughed, and they physically felt the tension leaving them. "I just needed someone to talk to – you seemed kind of nice I guess." He finished lamely, and Rachel chuckled.

"So you're a soldier?" She asked, desperate not to let the awkwardness descend again. Puck looked down at his clothes briefly before he nodded at her. "That's brave – I couldn't do it." She supplied kindly, and he looked up at her smiling.

"I'm shipping out tomorrow." He replied, and her face fell, suddenly understanding. "I guess I just wanted to spend some time away from it all."

"Pretending you're not going won't make it go away."

"I know." He insisted, looking down at his hands.

"It's ok to be afraid." She said quietly, laying a hand atop his own.

"I'm not afraid!" He shot back quickly, his dark eyes flaring. "I'm no pussy."

"I wasn't implying you were." She replied defensively, pulling her hand away and standing to leave.

"Shit – I'm sorry Rach." He called quickly, jogging after her. "I didn't mean to snap at you... I'm just on edge at the minute. You get that right?" He asked, stopping in front of her and staring into her eyes desperately. Eventually her face softened and she nodded gently, giving him a small smile.

"It's alright – I have a tendency to overreact." She replied. "I'm going to be an actress." She added excitedly, her eyes glittering with enthusiasm.

"Really?" Puck asked, hoping he didn't sound too disbelieving.

"On Broadway." She grinned. "I've had the lead in all school plays. I won my first dance contest at 3 and I have won over 100 singing contests." She reeled off her achievements, Puck listening in awe.

"Wow – that's awesome." He replied, dumbstruck. "I play guitar."

"I always wanted to play that – I play piano though." She chuckled as they headed back towards the bench.

They sat there, the time slipping by as the sun descended on the horizon, bathing them both in an orange glow as they chatted about everything and nothing at the same time. Rachel caught a glimpse of her watch and grimaced quietly, waiting until Puck had drawn to a close before speaking.

"I'm so sorry Noah – I really need to get back. My dad's will be getting worried." Her voice was sincere, and he tried to hide the disappointment on his face.

"Can I walk you home?" He asked hopefully, looking up at her through his hazel eyes.

"Sure." She smiled, trying to ignore how her heart began to beat in her chest slightly faster when he stood up and began walking beside her. After a few steps he slowly reached his hand out, his fingers extending out to meet hers. She was slightly shocked to begin with, but allowed her slim fingers to slip between his as a smile spread across her face, neither acknowledging what had just taken place.

"This is my stop." Rachel said quietly, Puck wondering where the time had gone as they wandered up the front steps to a lavishly decorated house. Looking up from the porch he stared out across the carefully pruned garden, the brightly coloured flowers growing from well tended flowerbeds. "I've had such a nice time Noah." She smiled brightly, drawing his attention back to the petite girl before him.

"Me too." He grinned, looking briefly down at their still conjoined hands. "Rach I..." He took a deep breath before looking up into her eyes and continuing. "I know this is like... completely inappropriate or some crap like that because we've only just met and all, and I know you've probably got some dude already as like you're boyfriend or whatever but I don't care-"

"I don't." She interrupted quickly, causing him to look at her in sheer confusion. "I don't have a boyfriend." She chuckled as relief flooded his face.

"Well good – because you're too badass for anyone from this town." She giggled again.

"You're from this town." She pointed out. "Does that mean I'm too good for you?"

"Nah – because I'm too badass for this town too." He replied, and she rolled her eyes. "Why do you think I joined the army?" The words left his mouth and the reality of their situation came crashing back down around them. All humour left their faces as Rachel unintentionally held onto his hand tighter. "I've got no one."

"What do you mean?" She asked, looking up at him through concerned eyes.

"To write to." He explained. "Well, that's not true - I've got a mom and a sister but they're moving out of state. What I meant is I've got no one special to write to." Rachel felt like her heart melted a little bit as he spoke, and she couldn't stop the grin that spread over her face. "So I wondered if you wouldn't mind me writing to you whilst I'm away. I know we just met and all, but-"

"I'd love for you to write to me Noah." She silenced him, watching as his hazel eyes began to sparkle as he relaxed. They went about exchanging their addresses so they would be able to correspond with each other, promising to write whenever they could. Puck tucked her neatly written address away in his bag, promising himself to learn it by heart in case he lost it.

"Thank you for being here tonight Rach." He said quietly, all bravado he had disappearing as he let her see his vulnerability. "It was what I needed." She nodded in understanding and they stood for a few minutes in silence before he looked into her eyes and continued. "I'm so glad I met you before I left."

"Me too." She giggled. Puck gazed down to her, and let impulse take over as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers gently. He half expected her to pull away and slap him, so when she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, he let his heart jump with excitement. They stood there for several minutes, both of them knowing that this memory would be the one to carry them through the months to follow where their only communication would be letters. They allowed themselves to lose themselves in the feelings flowing freely through them, passing them to each other through their kiss. Eventually they broke away when their lungs cried out for air, both of them whimpering at the loss of contact as they rested their foreheads together.

"God I wish I'd met you before this." Puck said quietly, regret lacing his voice.

"This wouldn't have meant as much if you had." She replied gently, running her hand over his cheek gently. He leaned in and kissed her once more, slower this time yet not lacking any of the feeling or passion of the last one. "Come home safely." Rachel whispered when he pulled away, feeling as he nodded slowly, her face still in his hands. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before bidding her farewell and walking away. She watched his retreating form, fighting back the tears prickling behind her eyes as he walked away, both of them silently praying for him to return quickly.

Rachel walked slowly down the front path to her mailbox, a glass of orange juice in her hand as she soaked up the early morning sun, letting the warmth penetrate her skin. Reaching inside she pulled out the mail, and flipped through it absentmindedly. She spotted a letter that looked slightly battered and felt her heart leap as she read her name written neatly on the front. Putting her glass on the ground and tucking the rest of the mail under her arm she quickly tore open the envelope, briefly noting the post mark from Afghanistan. She still remembered the first letter she'd received and how excited she'd been. Deep inside she'd never expected Noah to write to her, and the shock when she'd received the battered envelope only two weeks after he'd gone was something she wouldn't forget in a while. They'd been writing for almost 6 months now, and everyone called her crazy. Her father's had insisted that she was too young to be involved with someone in the military, and no matter how many times she tried to explain what she felt they would just shoot her down. After several heated arguments they had relented, knowing that they could no longer control who she associated with, but begging her to be careful. She wished she'd had some friends to talk to about it, even a single girl friend to show the letters to, to gush to about her feelings. Sadly, the only person she could talk to was Noah, and that would be pointless. She snapped from her thoughts and hurriedly unfolded the paper, absorbing every word as her eyes quickly scanned the page.

Rachel,

I'm glad you're enjoying being back at school even if everyone else seems like a total douchebag. Just tell them all your boyfriend is in the army, and that as soon as I get back I'll kick their ass for picking on you. Until then just remember that you're better than all of them, and when you're accepting your first Tony they'll all wish they'd been friends with you.

I know I've said it before, but you're letters really do keep me going out here. All of the other guys in my squad get letters from their families and their girls, but none of them mean as much as yours do to me. Hearing about your life, and how everything is in Lima brings a sense of normality to this hell hole. I wouldn't ever tell anyone else this, and if anyone else reads this then they'll kick the shit out of me, but I'm terrified. This place scares me more than anything else because there's no certainty. Of like anything. I hate that – I always thought I was pretty spontaneous, and I could handle anything, but this taught me I can't. I used to dream of getting out of Lima, and this seemed like the best way I guess. Now I'd give anything to be back there. Not just because it's safe, but because it's where you are.

I want more than anything to be back with you. It seems so ridiculous because I've only ever seen you that one day, but I miss you more than I miss anyone else. The photo's you sent me were a godsend, because now I can rub it in everyone else's face how gorgeous you are. Writing to you is what keeps me sane because you always know what to say to make me feel better. I can be Noah with you, not Puck, and that's awesome, because I thought I'd lost him a long time ago. I don't even know if that makes sense, but I hope it does.

You know, when things get really tough over here and I feel like crap, I just find your photo and remember that day when we met. I remember sitting with you on the bench by the river and just talking. You told me about your dreams and how you were going to get there. You barely knew me, yet you opened up so easily. It was something I guess I wasn't used to. Normally it would have freaked me out, but it was you, and you didn't freak me out at all. You have no idea how many times in the past 6 months I've just closed my eyes and thought about you and you're amazing smile. It just has a way of making me feel better even with all of this shit going on. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I think I might be in love with you – which might seem stupid because we only talk through letters, and it's only been like 6 months, but I think I've been in love with you since you brought me coffee in the diner. The coffee kind of sucked, but I kept ordering it because it meant you had to keep coming over to see me, and you'd always smile. I know that sounds sappy, and if I'd been writing this before I met you I probably would have beaten myself up, but now it's just normal. You make me a better person Rachel.

Now I don't want you to worry or anything, but I can't write to you for a little while because I'm going to be moving around a lot. I promise as soon as I settle down somewhere for longer than a few days I'll write to you again, but I don't want to risk missing one of your letters or getting one of mine lost. But like I said, don't freak out or anything, because it's nothing serious.

I've got to go now – if I don't grab dinner before Lt. McCarthy (we all call him Gerry) gets there then I won't eat tonight. None of us understands how someone so skinny can eat so much! I'll send you a picture when I can get one. But yeah, gots to go before I starve to death. I'll write to you as soon as I can baby. I miss you.

All my love

Noah

Rachel sighed deeply, fighting back the tears that always threatened to fall whenever one of his letters arrived. She held the paper close to her chest and closed her eyes, imagining Noah messing around with the others in his Squad (whom she'd heard so much about in the past 6 months). Collecting the rest of the mail and picking up her glass she wandered back towards the house. Setting her juice down on the counter she carefully separated her father's mail into two piles – one for her dad and one for her daddy – before running upstairs. She pulled the carefully decorated shoebox out from beneath her bed and opened it up. Sitting inside were all of Noah's letters in chronological order, with the newest at the top. She kissed the latest letter gently before placing it inside and closing the box. She couldn't wait until he came home so she could show him how carefully she looked after his letters, though part of her was sure he'd laugh at her fondly and tell her it was just words on paper. She rolled her eyes gently and chuckled, tucking the box away carefully under her bed and laying back. She rolled onto her side and stared at the picture that sat on her bedside table. It was of Noah out in Afghanistan, standing in his uniform with a huge smile on his face. She'd only received a few photographs because really there were not many moments where they could just grab a camera, but the few she had, she cherished. This one and the one of Noah playing his precious guitar were her favourites (the picture of the whole squad coming a close second). She grinned at the picture, feeling the happiness spread out from within her, dulling the pain of missing him for a few blissful seconds before the usual worry set in.

The weeks seemed endless as Rachel waited patiently for her next letter to arrive. She was always first up in the morning so she could check the mail before her fathers, in hope that something would have come to let her know where Puck was. But day after day, Rachel left the mailbox disappointed, her hands devoid of any of the hand written letters that bring her such joy. Eventually, as the weeks continued to pass, she grew quieter and more morose, her worry and sadness affecting her worst than she liked to admit. Her father's tried to talk to her about it, but every time she'd brush it off, and tell them that it was merely because she was tired. She hated lying to them – last year she would never have dreamt of lying to them, but it had become necessary. They didn't understand her feelings – they couldn't understand them. But she knew they were trying – they enrolled her in more outside activities to keep her busy and insisted she regularly attend school functions in an attempt to make new friends. She'd grown closer to her comrades in Glee club, but they were still merely acquaintances – she couldn't talk to them about her private feelings. But tonight, she'd agreed to go to the school football game (her father's told her she could no longer "sit around moping" and had to go or they would take away her elliptical) and so here she was, desperately searching the stands for somewhere to sit.

Taking a seat on the edge of one of the long metal bleachers she straightened her short black skirt and readjusted the white bow in her hair. She'd taken to wearing the white ribbon outside of work as Puck had once mentioned how much he liked it. She listened to the cheering of the crazy fans surrounding her. It was a Friday night, and half of Lima had come out to see the McKinley High Football team play against their rivals. She rolled her eyes as a large group of freshmen sat behind her – they had obviously been drinking, and were cheering loudly, their faces painted outlandish colours. Rachel's heart stopped in her chest when she saw the principal walk out onto the field. The principal never introduced high school games, it was always done by a local sponsor, a business man or a minor celebrity, something was different, something was off and she had a gut feeling that it could only be bad news. As he stepped up to the Microphone he cleared his throat before delivering the last words she would hear before her entire world shattered around her. "Folks before the game begins tonight I would like you all to bow you heads as I read a list of locals who have been killed in the battle for peace. All were ex-students of the high school and all deserve our respect..." He began to slowly read the names out, giving each name an equal amount of time for remembrance before moving on. Along the stands, the people stood out of respect for their fallen friends, bowing their heads and saluting as they listened to the Principal.

"...Noah Puckerman..."

Rachel could of sworn her heart fractured into a thousand pieces as the words left the man's lips. Her hands began to shake violently by her sides and she felt her stomach turning to knots. Her throat constricted and she couldn't breathe, her eyes burning with tears. She watched as all around her the rows of people sat down as his name was read. No one wanted to show respect for Noah – he was right when he said no one cared, and that killed her. He'd told her before that he'd been a miscreant whilst in high school (in his own words he'd "done some pretty bad shit") but that didn't mean he deserved any less respect than anyone else. She felt sheer contempt for her fellow human beings as they all ignored the life that had been cruelly taken too early from the world.

"Hey – sit down." She felt a hand tugging on her roughly, trying to push her back into her seat, and turned to face one of the Freshmen, who was glaring up at her, trying to look around her at the Principal. She desperately fought the urge to slap him across the face, but knew it would do no good. Instead she merely exited her seat, stumbling mindlessly down the bleachers as she ran away, the shock fading away and the situation hitting her like a ton of bricks. She rushed out towards the street, gasping desperately for oxygen that seemed unable to enter her lungs. She reached the edge of the road and felt her knees give way beneath her, sending her crashing down onto the sidewalk. She felt the tears spilling over her eyes and burning down her cheeks as everything fell apart around her. Behind her she heard the game starting. The sound of people cheering and clapping sent the bile coursing up her throat. She didn't understand how they could move on like nothing had happened – like Noah hadn't just died. She leaned over and proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach onto the side of the road, the pain of it doing nothing to dull the ache in her heart. She gasped in air when she was finished, sobbing loudly as she allowed the situation to sink in. Noah was gone. He was never coming back. They couldn't be together. He was dead.

Rachel wasn't sure how she managed to pull herself into her car and drive home until she found herself in her driveway. Climbing out she didn't bother to lock the vehicle and ran for the front door. Slamming it closed behind her she leaned against it, breathing heavily, pretending that she could lock all of the pain outside and be safe in her home. She looked around the dark house and knew her father's were out for the evening. She wanted to call them – she needed them to hold her and tell her everything was ok. To tell her that it was a mistake and Noah was fine, that he'd be home soon enough and they could be together. She wanted reassurance, but she knew it wouldn't come.

Slamming open her bedroom door she ran inside and threw herself down on the bed. Her face was buried in her pillow as she sobbed. Turning over she spotted the picture of Noah sitting staring at her from her bedside table. Picking it up she held it in her hands, running her fingers over his face, remembering the feel of being in his arms. The smile on his face taunted her from behind the glass and she found everything mounting on to her. She threw the frame across the room, listening as the glass shattered on impact and thudded when it hit the floor. She wasn't crying anymore, the tears subsiding as she felt her body begin to shake with anger. Her blood was boiling beneath her skin as she grabbed the box out from under her bed. Throwing it down on the mattress she ripped the lid off and grabbed the first letter her hand landed on. Pulling the paper from the envelope she flattened it out, her eyes scanning over the words, her eyes filling once more, but not from sadness.

...I think I might be in love with you...

Rachel's hands shook violently and she felt her hands balling into fists when she read how he signed off to her for the final time.

All my love

The paper crumpled in her hands as she felt the hot salty tears sliding down her cheeks. She felt the frustration building inside of her and she let it out the only way she knew how. She began to scream, and the sound even scared her. It was a scream of sheer anger and pain, but it didn't help her. She quickly began shredding the paper in her hands, tearing it to pieces as she yelled about how much of liar he was. She watched the pieces flutter to the floor gently, landing in a heap at her feet that blurred through her tears of rage. She was panting, her chest heaving up and down as her eyes grew wide, realisation dawning on her. The tears of rage turned to regret as she fell to her knees, grabbing up the pieces and trying desperately to piece back together the only thing she had left of Noah. Trying to rearrange the torn pieces of his final letter she began to sob out apologies to him, hoping and praying that he could hear her.

Her father's came home that night to a dark house. Rachel's car had been abandoned in the driveway and they knew something was wrong. Hurrying inside the house they stared around the darkness before spotting the faint light coming from upstairs. Moving swiftly up the long stairwell they noticed the light coming out from beneath Rachel's door. Hiram Berry gripped a hold of his husband's hand as he turned the door knob, carefully pushing it open to reveal the scene before them.

They stepped inside, careful to avoid the shards of broken glass that lay beside her bedroom door. The glass was evidently from the broken picture frame that lay abandoned on the floor, a single picture face down on the carpet. Both Berry men knew the picture well and suddenly realised what this was all in regards too. Creeping silently further into the room they spotted Rachel, curled up in a ball on the floor beside her bed sleeping soundly. Her face was stained with tears, her face red from crying. Lying beside her was a reassembled piece of paper, with only a few pieces yet to be replaced. Rachel's hand lay atop the scraps of paper, and both of her father's knew that their worst fear had been realised.

Knock Knock

Rachel looked up from the salad she was currently picking at. It had been a week since she'd found out about Noah's death and her feelings were still fluctuating. Her father's had carefully helped her piece back together the letter she'd torn apart, taping it together and putting it back in the box under her bed. She'd replaced the frame for Noah's picture, and although she still wasn't able to have it on her bedside table, the thought was there. Wandering slowly to the front door she tried not to dwell on her emotions as she spread a fake smile on her face and opened up.

Standing on her doorstep was a man dressed in an Army Service Uniform.

Her face fell and she quickly moved to slam the door in his face. His hand reached out to stop her, his hand splaying out across the wood as he stared at her imploringly. Rolling her eyes she reopened the door, leaning against the frame and glaring at him, her arms folded across her chest.

"I'm guessing you're Rachel then." She nodded her head. "I'm Private Chris LeBlanc – I served with Noah." His voice was kind, and for the first time Rachel really looked at him. He was tall, his dark hair shaved close to his head. He had a kind face with bright blue eyes and a soft smile. "He really loved you." Rachel looked away, shaking her head slightly in annoyance. Chris noticed and gently bit his bottom lip before continuing. "He wrote you a letter. He made me promise that if anything were to happen, that I would bring this to you." He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a slightly wrinkled and torn envelope with her name written on the front. "No one ever thought it'd happen." He smiled fondly, and Rachel looked up at him from the envelope that she had yet to touch. "They used to call him Lucky Puck... or well, something that rhymes with that, but you're a lady, and I don't wish to offend you." She shot him a small smile to thank him, briefly remembering how Noah had never really cared about offending her with his vulgar language. "He escaped harm so many times, a land mine, an open fire, a car bomb... he came away with nothing more than a scratch every single time." He drifted off, looking away from Rachel as his voice took on a more sombre tone. "Anyways, we went into this town, and everything seemed normal. There were these kids kicking around a soccer ball, and I didn't think anything of it when it rolled to me. I went to kick it back, but he knew... Puck, he knew." Chris avoided her eyes, his voice filled with regret and sheer guilt as he continued his story, Rachel desperately trying to blink away the tears that were forming in her eyes. "I just see him come running at me and just as my foot touches the ball, he shoves me so hard I'm winded. There's this huge flash of light and this explosion, and the next thing I know... I wake up 20 feet away and... and all I can see are his shoes." He took a deep breath, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat as he remembered what had been the worst day of his life. "He'd still be here if it wasn't for me." His voice was shaking and he could feel tears in his eyes as he avoided looking at Rachel. "That son of a bitch saved my life and I can never repay him." He laughed fondly and looked up to meet Rachel's eyes. "I thought I at least owed it to you to let you know that he died a hero." He finished, reaching up to brush the first tear from her cheek before handing over the letter. Rachel took it into her shaking hands and ran her fingers over his writing.

"Thank you." Her voice was barely a whisper as she looked up at Chris, who merely smiled down at her.

"If you need anything, or if you want to talk, even if it's just about Noah, I'm staying a few towns over. Just give me a call any time." He insisted, handing over a small card with his number on it. Rachel nodded her head and thanked him again. Chris turned to leave, but stopped just as he stepped from the front porch to turn and look at her. "It was an honour to serve with Noah – he was my best friend out there. I'll never forget him." With one last small smile he turned and began walking away.

Rachel stepped out onto the front porch and stared down at the envelope in her hands. She sat down; curling her feet up underneath her as she perched in the exact spot Noah had stood when he'd kissed her all of those months ago. Taking a deep breath she turned the envelope over and opened it carefully. Blinking away the tears she opened up the paper and began to read.

Rachel,

I really hope you never have to read this letter, but if you are then it means I probably should have been more careful. But I guess you can think of this as like I'm still thinking about you once I'm gone. Unless that creeps you out, in which case, don't think that. But I know this letter is supposed to be full of serious crap so bare with me because you know that isn't my strong point, so it could get a little weird or whatever.

I've never really made a will before, I mean I'm only 18, and I don't really know how legal a letter is. I don't really have any money to leave you, so I'm leaving you my heart. Not in any gross way, like I don't want you to store it in a jar on your shelf or anything. What I'm saying is that I'm leaving you with all of the love I have in me. Which is mushy and crap, but you were the single most important person in my life, and I love you more than anyone. You were the most beautiful and honest, unselfish person I know. I hope I told you how I felt for you before this, because if I didn't my ghost is totally going back in time to kick the ass of my living self.

I want you to follow your dreams Rach. I want you to make it to Broadway. If you don't, we are going to have to have strong words when you get up here to Jew Heaven (which better not be until you're at least 100!). You have too much talent to waste it in Lima – you have to share it with the world where they'll truly appreciate it, unlike the douchebags at home. And I want you to think of me on your opening night up on that big stage, because I promise you I'll be there the whole way.

Now as much as I want you to sit around crying about me and living your life alone, constantly mourning the fact that I'm gone and you're going to miss my sheer awesomeness, I can't ask you to do that. You are a truly spectacular person and you deserve to move on and be happy with someone who can love you as much as I did. I planned on coming home to you and marrying you, if for no other reason than I adored you and we would have made beautiful Jewish babies (who would have been extremely gifted musically) but that obviously can't happen now. You need to live that perfect life and share your awesome genes with the world. However, I do have some rules you have to follow about dating:

1. No Mohawks – because no one can rock that haircut as well as me.

Rachel chuckled, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes as she read over his words.

Agree?

Rachel nodded her head gently.

Say it out loud.

"I agree." Rachel laughed. "I hate you – this is supposed to be romantic but I'm laughing!" She admonished, sniffing quietly and rolling her eyes before continuing to read.

Good. Now really I don't have any other rules. Just that they have to make you happy and not treat you like shit, because that's key. In fact I'll make that rule 1 and knock the Mohawk thing to two. Life is too short to be wasting your time with people who don't treat you right or who don't make you happy. I'm living proof (well, I'm not really living if you're reading this letter but you get it) that you shouldn't spend your life trying to make others happy if it doesn't make you happy. And I will be checking in on you from time to time to make sure you're ok. But I want you to know I won't be like checking in on your private moments- that'd just be weird and I'm sure as hell no perv. But I also have to let you know that I will have to check in on Natalie Portman from time to time just to see what she's like (I mean she's a good looking Jew – not as good looking as you but still.)

I truly loved you with all of my heart Rachel Barbra Berry. I can't put it into words just what you meant to me. I hope that you knew, and I want you to know that if I'd come back from this war, I was going to show you every day just what you meant to me. I guess I can't now, but I'm still going to look out for you. No one messes with my girl. Anyone who does will be getting an ass whooping from beyond the grave I can promise you that.

I gave this letter to Chris to give to you, and I know he will. He's the best bud I ever had, and I trust him fully. He'll look out for you now I'm gone – he's a really great guy. There's nothing I wouldn't happily share with him.

I have to go now baby. I wish I could offer you something more substantial than a lousy letter, but I can't. I wish there were some special words I could offer up that'll make this all better but there aren't any. So all I can say is that I'm sorry for everything I'm putting you through, but I wouldn't trade knowing you for anything in the world, and I hope you feel the same. I may be an idiot who swears too much, but I was lucky to have known you. Please don't forget me.

I love you Rachel Berry

All my love

Noah

Rachel let out a quiet sob, allowing the tears to slip quietly down her cheeks as she finished the letter. She lifted the paper to her face and gently pressed her lips to it. Holding it flush against her chest, she closed her eyes and looked up at the sky, feeling the sun on her face.

"I love you Noah." She whispered. "Goodbye." She allowed a few solitary tears to fall onto her lap, sitting in silence for a few minutes before regaining the ability to move. She carefully folded the paper and slipped it back in the envelope, holding it to her chest as she stood, looking out across her front lawn. Taking in a deep breath she allowed a smile to play across her features as some of the pain inside her chest began to ease.

Rachel sat down with a thud on her soft sofa; her head flopping back as she let out a long breath. She'd just finished unpacking the boxes of things into her brand new kitchen, and it had been particularly hard work. She ran a hand across her sweaty forehead and felt an arm wrap around her shoulders, pulling her close. She smiled as a pair of soft lips met her cheek, making her giggle.

"Was that the last box?" She nodded her head, turning to place a kiss on the lips of her new flatmate.

It had been 5 years since the day Rachel had sat on the front porch reading Noah's final letter to her, and not a day passed by that she didn't think of him. Every now and then she'd feel that familiar twinge of pain in her chest when she remembered him, but she'd learned to deal with the loss. Surprisingly, she'd found life continued without Noah, and she'd graduated from High School and then Julliard. Living in New York was something she adored, and she was slowly but surely making her way to Broadway, currently starring in a supporting role in a small musical. She remembered her opening night, standing on the stage staring at her family and friends as they clapped and cheered her. She couldn't help but tear up slightly at the thought of Noah smiling at her, cheering and shouting louder than anyone else in the whole theatre. She knew he'd be proud.

She'd taken his advice and eventually gained the courage to move on and find someone else to love, knowing he didn't want her to spend her life pining after him. She'd taken his rules seriously and found a nice guy who treated her like a princess and, more importantly, did not have a Mohawk. As though Noah had had it planned all along, she'd found herself gradually falling for Chris LeBlanc, who left the army as soon as his tour was up, not wanting to put Rachel through any more pain. They'd been together for just over two years now, and he'd followed her to New York, helping her to pick out an apartment where they could live. He had her father's seal of approval, and more importantly, he had Noah's. They spoke about him often, knowing that he'd be happy for them.

"We still ordering in for dinner?" She was broken from her reverie by Chris, and she turned to look at him. He hadn't changed much since the day they'd met, but he'd allowed his hair to grow out, and she loved it. She nodded her head gently, and Chris stood up. "I want pizza – but I'll order in from that vegan place across town for you." He finished, walking away from the couch without bothering to ask for her order – he already knew what she'd want. She was grateful for all of the help Chris had given her over the years. He'd sat and listened to her cry, comforting her when she needed it. He'd become her rock, her best friend, and now her lover. She giggled gently, wondering briefly if Noah Puckerman had been her guardian angel all along. Looking over at the picture of her and Chris sitting atop their small TV she smiled.

"Thank you Noah." She said quietly, feeling the familiar tug in her chest.

"You say something babe?" She turned on the couch to face Chris, who was leaning out of the kitchen with the phone pressed to his ear. She shook her head, still laughing as she stood and headed for him. Wrapping her arms around his torso she leaned up and kissed him.

"I love you." He said when she pulled away.

"I love you."