Author's note: This story is inspired by hunnyfresh, who wrote the story 'Letters From War' for the fandom Once Upon A Time. This story is also inspired by the tv-show Our Girl from the BBC.

I apologize in advance for any mistake and grammatical mistakes. English is not my first language and I wrote this story in a hurry.

To my readers from Let Me Fix You, the story is not dead! I'm still writing on it, but this idea had to be written.

Alright, enough rambling, on with the story!

O, and I don't own any of these characters, only Mackie is my own creation.


Navigating through the many students, Marley made her way to her next class. She would start her second year at Stanford with English. It wasn't her favorite subject, she would have thought she had had enough English at high school. Apparently, you can never have enough English. She slid into an empty seat in the back of the class, ready to take an extra nap. She had only arrived last night late from Lima, she had spent the summer at her mom's. Once in a while she had seen Jake, he seemed happy with Bree. Marley shook her head mentally as her teacher entered the classroom. He greeted them all and turned his back to them to write something on the white board. Pen Pals, he wrote in capital letters. He turned back to the class, clicking the pen close.

"This is going to be your assignment this semester. You are going to participate in a program for Pen Pals for soldiers in the US Army. You all get a writing partner," the man explained as he distributed the papers.

Marley received hers last and lazily she picked it up. 'Private Lopez' she read. Underneath the name was an address written, a camp somewhere in South Carolina.

"You're going to write a letter to the soldier and hopefully, you'll receive a letter back. If you lack inspiration to these man and woman, it doesn't have to be a high standard letter. They'll be happy the receive mail. Just tell them that you're proud of the job they're doing," the teacher continued his speech.

A boy next to Marley raised his hand. "What if you're not proud of them?"

Marley groaned, she went to class with morons. She tuned out as the teacher seriously replied to that answer. She kept staring at the name on the paper and out her bag she grabbed a note block and a pen. She threw one last look at her still rambling teacher and went to work.


The heat was beating down on Santana. That wasn't the hardest thing to deal with, she was used to it, but the bullets were a different story. She currently was hiding in an abandoned building, shielding herself from the bullets. She and her platoon were patrolling the area around the compound that she called home for more than three months. They had walked straight into an ambush and now they had to take cover.

"Lopez, come on!" her captain called out to her.

She forced her legs to do their job and moved from her spot. She raised her rifle, ready to shoot at any movement and ran over to Mackie, her captain. As a bullet flew past her head, she fired back rapidly. Gasping she let herself fall against the wall next to her captain.

"You alright there?" he asked as he briefly glanced down at her.

She just nodded and got back to her feet. It was only then she saw one of her comrades was injured. She hurried over to him and checked where he was injured. Blood was pouring out of a wound on his arm. Quickly she grabbed her medical bag on her back and pulled out a bandage and a tourniquet.

"Keep awake, Shorty," she called to him and bandaged him up.

He moaned as she strapped the tourniquet tight around his arm. Santana just looked as Mackie came standing next to her. "Is he going to be okay?" he asked.

"Only if we go now," she replied and helped Shorty up, luckily he was still conscious.

"Then let's go."

Mackie took cover for her and started firing, while she and Shorty ran over to their Humvee. She pushed him in and looked back at Mackie, who was running in their direction. Santana held open the door as Mackie jumped in, Mackie pulled her in and the door slammed close behind her. She felt the Humvee kick into gear as she leant over Shorty. Shorty looked at her and smiled shakily.

"You're going to be fine," she said as they made their way back to the compound.


Marley made her way back to her dorm from the writing lab. The rain was pouring down and she had a ten minute walk ahead of her. She sighed and pulled her coat tighter around her.

"Hey Marley!"

She looked up and saw Kitty standing in the doorway of the campus' pub. Marley hesitated, longing for her warm bed, but changed course to Kitty.

"Were did you come from so late? Are you having a lover?" Kitty teased her, Marley knew this behavior, Kitty was tipsy.

"No, I came from a writing lab. Trying to become a journalist, remember?" she said and stepped into the pub.

Immediately someone handed her a beer, probably one of Kitty's friends. Apparently it was Kitty's mission to get Marley some friends since they came to Stanford. At first Marley didn't know Kitty was attending Stanford as well, until they ran into each other. Kitty had been distant at first, but that changed quickly. Now she was pulling Marley into every party she could think of. Marley let it come over her, she knew it would be the only change she ever came to a party. If it weren't for her mom, she probably would have backed of Kitty, but she had promised to go out and make friends.

"Still wanting to be a journalist?" someone asked.

Marley looked up, it was Simon. She liked him alright, but nothing more. She nodded and took a swig of her beer.

"Yeah, just had a seminar about writing columns. Very interesting, but not what I want," she told him, eyeing Kitty who become even more drunk.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Reporting the news, exposing the ugly truth about this bloody earth," Marley replied.

"Wow, that's deep. But a good goal," Simon admitted, but Marley saw she already lost him.

He was nice and all, but a bit of a dimwit. Marley liked to think he had fallen on his head as a baby and had lost some brain cells. She sighed and took another swig.

"What I really want to do is going to war torn places. Showing people what's really going on there, what our troops are really leaving behind, you know. I know they're defending our country, but there are innocent people there," Marley went on, she didn't mind she had lost Simon. She just had to talk to someone.

"Come on! You're boring him to sleep," Kitty yelled in her ear. "Come dance!"

While Kitty dragged her to the dance floor, Marley saw Simon was asleep indeed. She snorted, that wasn't probably her fault, but the booze. She let Kitty lead her to the dance floor and let the music take her over. Let the music clear her head. Laughing, they danced until deep into the night. Marley knew she would regret it the next morning, but for now she was content as she was.


Santana came out of the medic tent. Shorty had been picked up by a chopper, she couldn't help him here in the field. As she walked over to the other guys she saw she was just in time for the mail. She sunk onto one of the blocks and leaned against the wood bored. She never got mail in the three months she had been here. Who would write her anyway? She didn't have a family, not anymore at least. She had been in the foster care since she was seven, after her mom had died and her father went AWOL. For a few months she had been living with her aunt, but had been placed out of the house because she was too difficult. After that she had been from foster home to another. At one of them she had Mackie, he was like a brother to her. She had been sixteen when he joined the army and got enlisted to Afghanistan. As soon as she had turned eighteen, she had joined the army as well. Now he was her captain and she couldn't be happier about that. This was her family, these 42 men and woman.

"Lopez!"

Santana startled and looked up at the smirking face of Mackie. "Who is Marley?" he asked smugly.

"I don't know, sir," she replied, she so would kick his ass later.

He walked over to her and pressed an envelope in her hands. "Since when are you hiding a lady friend in your bug?" he asked whispering in her ear.

"I'm not, sir," she smirked and looked at the envelope as he walked away.

As Mackie continued passing around the mail, Santana sneaked of to her bunk. It was her home for these past three months, but the walls surrounding her bunk were blank, accept for a few pictures of her and Mackie and other team mates she was close with. She plopped down on her bed and studied the envelope again. Her name was writing in a neat handwriting and as she turned she saw the returning address was some dorm at Stanford. She frowned, she knew no one at Stanford. Curiosity got the best of her and she ripped open the envelope.

October 12, 2014

Private Lopez,

I hope this letter comes off as strange or intruding or even annoying. I'm sure you'll get lots of mail, so I hope you don't mind me writing one to you. To be clear, I got your name and address of a pen pals program, by teacher made me write to you. Don't think I don't want to write, because I do!

O, sorry, I'm rambling. You must be think I'm a totally nob. Let me introduce myself: I'm Marley Rose and I'm twenty-one. I'm currently attending Stanford, as you could see on the back of the envelope. Sorry, rambling again. I'm studying to become a journalist.

So there you have it, that's me in a nutshell. I hope I didn't annoy too much with my rambling, it's my first time writing to a stranger.

I'm not quite sure what to write more, only that I admire you're courage to fight and defend our country. Someday I hope to find myself in a war torn place, only as a journalist that is. What I really want to show the world is that there are also innocent people in this war and I'm sure you're there to protect them.

Here I go again with the rambling. Sorry.

Anyway, be safe out there.

Marley Rose.

PS: I don't even know if you're a man or woman!

Santana folded the letter again, a bit overwhelmed by this letter from this Marley person. Normally she would be annoyed, but somehow she wasn't by this letter. She even found herself smiling at some points. She looked up as Mackie entered the tent.

"Oi, Mac," she stood up and walked over to him just as he sat down. He looked up at her, smirking. "Since when am I in the pen pals program?" she asked.

He patted the spot next to him, Santana sat down and looked at him. "You never receive any mail, Lopez," he started.

"Geez, what weird. Who in the world would write me, Mac? My aunt doesn't want to see me and my mom is dead. You? That would be a bit silly," she spat.

"Chill your tits. You need some contact with the real world, otherwise this war will drive you insane. I want you sane, San. You're all I got, you know," he continued calmly.

"I'm not going insane. I'm managing just fine after three months," she said, but didn't sound convincing.

"You're strong, so it could take awhile, but eventually you'll go insane. Did she write anything interesting?" he asked, changing the subject smoothly.

Santana stood up. "That's private," she teased him and smirked, walking back to her bunk.

"Write her back," he said as he stood up to leave the tent.

"Maybe," she said.

She put the folded letter back into the envelope and with her finger she brushed the handwritten address of Stanford. She looked around her and saw she was alone. Out of her bag she pulled a note block and a pencil. She sat down in Indian Style on her bed and started writing.

October 20, 2014

Marley,

To be honest, your letter is the first I received since I've been stationed here. And no, I don't think you're intruding. It actually highlighted my day.

It has been a while since I've written a letter, so I'm sorry for my bad handwriting.

I've heard of Stanford, I've never been though. As an aspiring journalist I hope you won't correct my letters ;)

I've got to go now, it was nice to meet you. I mean, not meeting, but writing. You know what I mean.

Pr. Santana Lopez

PS: As you can tell from my name, I'm a woman ;)

PSS: I think you're rambling is cute

Santana read her letter over, pondering the last sentence. Eventually she scratched cute and wrote behind it: not annoying. She borrowed an envelope from her bunkmate above her and scribbled down the address. As she heard the last bell for the leaving mail, she dashed outside and dropped the letter in the bag. Happy with her decision to write back, she returned to her bunk…