If there's one thing worse than being stuck out in the middle of the desert in sweltering heat carrying a backpack that almost weighs as much as you do (if not more), it's falling in love. With a girl who could be taken away from you at any moment.

She wished she could turn her feelings off sometimes, because falling in love with a front line soldier wasn't something she ever planned to happen while she was on her tour of duty. The only other female solider in the regiment. She didn't understand when she became such a cliché.

They shared quarters and Santana didn't know what she liked more – watching Brittany out of the corner of her eye, or catching Brittany doing the same. It was simple pleasures like that that kept her going through everything - through the endless days and nights away from her family, through the pain and exhaustion, through watching her friends die and having to leave them behind. Brittany was the one thing that made her remember that it wasn't all bad out here.

"Can I help you?"

Santana hadn't realised she was staring. "I- I- Can I borrow your hairbrush?" Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Of course," Brittany replied, handing it to Santana, skin touching skin for the briefest of moments. "Although I don't know why you can't just use your own. It's right there," Brittany said, pointing at the brush beside Santana's bed.

"Oh, I-"

"It's okay. Sometimes when I look at you, I forget things too," Brittany said teasingly before leaving the tent.

"Do you ever think about home?"

The question caught Santana off guard. "Um, sometimes. There's not much to think about."

"You don't have anyone to go back to? Boyfriend? Husband?"

Santana couldn't help but laugh. "No. It's not really my thing. I don't have a girlfriend either, by the way."

"Oh," Brittany replied. "I didn't know. Me too. I like girls, I mean. I like guys too, but girls are definitely just as good, if not better."

That took Santana by surprise. She knew Brittany was naturally flirty, but she didn't know that she was actually attracted to girls.

"Yeah, girls are pretty awesome," Santana laughed, catching Brittany's eye. Something passed between them but she didn't quite know what it was. "Do you?"

"Have anyone to go home to? Just my parents and my little sister. She made me promise to come back, and I haven't broken a promise to her yet so I'm kind of under contract…"

"You'll get home, Brittany. You'll be fine."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

This was equally her favourite and most dreaded part of the job.

The adrenaline was something she loved, craved even. Being – literally – in the firing line between life and death was something that she never bored of. Her senses heightened tenfold, her body went into overdrive; everything was amplified. The communication between the regiment in these moments was something that always took her by surprise. The way they could speak paragraphs in one movement. The way seeing someone's direction could keep you alive for another day.

Santana leant back resting her head against the muddy wall of the trench, and closed her eyes. She took deep breaths trying to steady herself before she heard the inevitable noises indicating that they were under attack. She opened her eyes after a few moments and glanced around at the rest of her regiment, all looking equally anxious beside her.

She caught Brittany's eye beside her and noticed her smile. It made her feel like she'd already been hit in the chest. A smile in the trenches before going into gunfire was almost as rare as coming out of one of these things with a completely uninjured force. The fact that this girl - this breathtakingly beautiful girl – was beside her smiling like they were sitting in some café and not in a trench somewhere in north Afghanistan, about to kill whoever got in their way, was where Santana's flaws started to show.

She managed to smile back briefly, distracting her from everything, before she heard the first shot fire.

Mistake number one.

Snapping back into reality, she quickly managed to recompose herself before she saw Mike fall to the ground in pain three people away from her. Sam and Rory were at his side quickly, covering the wound as best they could. She didn't even have time to feel anything other than determination. Mike was the third this week and she was fucking sick of it. She was sick of watching these people go down knowing they had families at home. Girlfriends and wives and children. She had nothing to go back to – she had parents, but they didn't seem to care as much about her now that she admitted to loving girls.

There was no way she was letting anyone else take a bullet when she was the one who deserved it most.

She cocked her rifle and got ready to fire. She didn't give a shit any more. She just wanted to kill whoever kept taking every single good person in her regiment down.

She chanced a glance over the top to spot her target.

Mistake number two.

She spotted a building in the distance, with a dark figure perched on top of it, moving in and out of sight every few seconds. She was going to bring him down.

She needed to aim precisely, as she only had seconds to hit her target when he came back into sight. She couldn't get a good shot being completely covered by the protection of the trench, so she raised herself up slightly before placing her finger on the trigger, seconds away from applying the pressure needed to end this fucker's life.

Mistake number three.

The next thing she felt was a body on top of hers. She didn't understand how or why, but she could hear continuous gunfire, and it was coming from a direction she didn't expect. The person she was going to take out was over to her left, these shots were coming from her right, and they were much closer than she anticipated.

She knew enough to be able to assess that she's far enough down in the trench again to move about without disclosing their position. (Although she's pretty sure that the enemy has a good idea of where they are now, and this had turned into a waiting game).

Santana sat up and looked at the body, now lying on her legs, restricting her movement.

Oh god no, no, no, no… not her. Anyone but her.

Brittany was lying there, face contorted in pain, holding her chest just below her shoulder. The first thought that crossed Santana's mind was how close the wound was to Brittany's heart.

She acted quickly, her mind going into overdrive, remembering all the things she was taught about how to act to keep someone alive before they can get treatment from the medical team at camp.

Santana took off her jacket and pressed it onto the wound to try and stop the blood flow. Brittany winced and protested in pain as Santana applied pressure, and all Santana could do was whisper "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" as she caused Brittany even more pain, desperately trying to keep all the life inside her body.

"It's not your fault," Brittany choked out, her voice weak but strong enough for Santana to hear loud and clear. "I wouldn't let you sacrifice yourself like that."

Realisation hit Santana and she broke. This was because of her. Brittany had taken this bullet for her. It should be her lying there. It should be her.

"No," Santana said, shaking her head. "No, no, Brittany, no…" was all she could say as she tried to control her tears. She had to be strong for Brittany. Isn't that what the movies tell you?

"I love you," Brittany said, and Santana's world stopped. "I'm in love with you."

She always knew Brittany had a thing for her, their flirty glances and exchanges where enough evidence of that, but she didn't know Brittany was in love with her. She didn't know Brittany felt everything she was feeling too.

All she knew was that the girl she loved – who loved her back – was dying in her arms.

There were so many things she could – should - say, but she didn't know how. Her body spoke for her and she leant down and pressed her lips to Brittany's. They were colder than someone's lips should be, and that thought just made her kiss Brittany harder.

She pulled back, only far enough to look into Brittany's eyes, and no more. She needed the closeness. She needed Brittany to know she wasn't alone.

"I love you, too," Santana choked out. "I love you, and I'm not going to let you leave me like this, you hear? We're not going to be one of those stories. You're not going to die on me."

Brittany nodded weakly. Every time she blinked, her eyes stayed closed that little bit longer.

"Britt, stay with me," Santana pleaded. "Please, just stay with me."

Between them, they all managed to get both Brittany and Mike back to the hospital tent for treatment safely.

Santana didn't leave Brittany's side, unless the medics needed access to Brittany's body, and even then Santana didn't leave the tent.

She needed a constant reminder that Brittany was still alive.

Watching Brittany sleep now was different. It wasn't like those times when she used to wake up in the middle of the night and see how peaceful Brittany looked beside her despite their circumstances. Watching her sleep now was torture. All she wanted was for Brittany to wake up. Every time Brittany drifted off, Santana got a feeling deep in her stomach that Brittany wasn't going to wake up again.

Santana kept replaying everything over in her head. The sound of Brittany's voice when she said "I love you" was the only thing she could hear. She blocked out the other parts – the coldness of Brittany's skin, the steady flow of blood that came from her chest, the way Brittany's eyes wouldn't stay open. No, none of that compared to hearing Brittany say those words.

It was three days before either of them brought it up.

"I didn't just say it because I was dying, y'know," Brittany says, taking Santana off guard. "I do love you. Have for a while. I just didn't know if you felt the same way and I didn't want to ruin our friendship over it."

Santana smiled and looked at the ground briefly, blushing. "I kind of knew you liked me," she said, lifting her head and meeting Brittany's eyes. "But I didn't know you loved me."

"Well I do," Brittany said, and they fell into silence. It was only a few minutes later that Santana realised she didn't say it back.

"I love you, too," she said, suddenly. "God, I'm so stupid! Britt, I love you too."

Brittany laughed nervously. "I was kind of worried I'd just imagined you saying it. Y'know, hallucinations or something. You kissed me, right? I didn't imagine that, did I?"

"No, you didn't imagine that, Britt," Santana replied, smiling.

"I think maybe you should remind me how that felt, because my memory is kind of sketchy," Brittany said with a smile.

Santana didn't hesitate in moving to kiss Brittany firm on the lips. She felt Brittany's hand reach up and find the back of her head, pulling her in closer, fingers in Santana's hair. It felt amazing. It took Santana a moment to realise there were tears in her eyes.

"Are you crying?" Brittany asked, looking at Santana concerned.

"It's just that I'm really happy. I'm just so happy you're alive," Santana choked out. "So happy." She leant in and kissed Brittany again. And again.

"So where does this leave us?" Brittany asked hesitantly, rubbing her thumb over Santana's cheek taking away the tears.

"Where do you want it to leave us?"

"I'd like to be with you. Not just here, but back home too. Our tour finishes in three weeks. Think you can stay alive for that long?" Brittany joked.

"For you I think I could do anything."

"Just don't try to be a hero again, Santana. You have something to lose now," Brittany said, her voiced laced with emotion.

"I had something to lose before, but I was just too stupid to notice," Santana replied honestly.

Brittany swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled.

"You made sure you didn't though. Lose me, I mean. You saved my life."

"It was my fault you were hurt in the first place, so it's the least I could do," Santana said bowing her head, all the guilt coming back to the surface.

"You saved my life," Brittany repeated. "You could have left me. You could have got someone else to take care of me. You didn't have to. You just… you didn't have to."

Tears prickled in Santana's eyes. "Hey, come on. Britt, I could never just leave you. Never," she said with conviction. "Never. Especially when you – Never, okay?"

"Never," Brittany echoed. "I'll never leave you either."