When Bilbo came back, the Shire was silent. It was nearing midnight and the stars shined bright as if guiding the young, battered hobbit back home. The flowers and green grass on the hills brightened as the hobbit passed but soon became sad again as they wondered what had made the young one so distraught. All lights in smials were off except for one, one Hamfast Gamgee's.

Bilbo ignored this light, offering no greeting to the old neighboring hobbits, in turn of entering the old green door of his own smial. He hadn't seen this door in over a year and seeing Gandalf's mark carved into it made memories hit Bilbo hard. A quiet sob escaped his lips and a tear slid down his cheek. Bilbo hugged himself tightly as if trying to keep himself from falling apart physically, or protecting himself.

Slowly the tears stopped, and Bilbo gathered the courage to enter his home. It was exactly how he had left it. There was still mud on his mother's glory box from Kili wiping his shoes off on it. He had yelled at Kili for that so much a couple of days after. Bilbo smiled and laughed slightly through his newly formed tears at the memory.

Bilbo finished touring his home and finally sat down his old reading chair then fell asleep.

Bilbo could feel the whispers about him as he walked through the market with his head down and his shoulders slumped. But Bilbo ignored them. He went through his old familiar routine feeling foreign. He had forgotten how different life had been as a hobbit of the Shire than with the dwarves. It was simple here. It was happy, jolly, and carefree. There was no constant danger around. It was different. It was a different type of happy here.

Bilbo missed Kili's laugh and Fili's teasing at his brother. He missed the playful fights the two used to have. He missed how Thorin would scowl at them with a hint of warmth and a smile in his eyes. Bilbo longed the snickering of the rest of the Company as this happened and how they would try to conceal their humor in the situation when Thorin turned on them. Bilbo missed all of this. All of them.

Bilbo sat down on the nearest bench and cried. It was in front of all of his once friends and neighbors, but Bilbo didn't care. Nobody approached him. They all stared and the whispering increased.

Bilbo didn't leave his smial after his breakdown in the market. Most days he would sit by the fire and stare into the flames. He never let the flames die out. It would be disrespectful in Bilbo's eyes, to let go of the reminder of all of the people who had died by Smaug, the battle, and just the quest in itself. So Bilbo always kept the fire bright and alive..

Hamfast dragged him out into the broad sunlight most days. He drug Bilbo into town and made him socialize somewhat with other hobbits. Bilbo appreciated this, but at the same time he did not. He did not want to socialize with people who did not want him there, who were starting to call him "Mad Baggins". Why would he? But Bilbo went along with it most days anyways, if only to make the Gaffer happy.

Some days he did not go along with it. Bilbo would scream, shout, cry, and kick. These were his worst days. They were anniversaries, or days where he might have had a nightmare, or stumbled upon something that made him remember.

Bilbo did not remember when these days happened. He knew when something had happened. He could tell when the Gaffer came the next midmorning and he would flinch slightly away from Bilbo when he reached over to him, or when he was missing a day and he could not explain why.

Hamfast, one day, sat down with Bilbo and told him of these days. When Bilbo found out, he had apologized and apologized to his gardener, but Hamfast, ever the one to anger slowly, said he understood that whatever adventure he had gone on had left Bilbo with mental scars that would need time to heal.

But that did not excuse his actions in Bilbo's eyes.

The day Frodo came over for a visit, Bilbo's eyes had brightened considerably. Frodo was still a small fauntling at the age of eight, or the man equivalent of a six year old. He was such a boisterous little lad, and he had Bilbo running all over the place trying to catch him. This was the day Bilbo first began to smile again.

Frodo wanted to go into town, and Bilbo obliged upon his own free will. Frodo wanted to talk to all the new hobbits he had never met before, and Bilbo let him as he looked on with a fond smile. This was also the day the hobbits of Hobbiton began to speak to Bilbo as they once did. They chattered lightly about several different things and Bilbo found himself enjoying it slightly.

When it was starting to get dark, Bilbo lifted the tired fauntling into his arms and started off to his home. Frodo was waving sleepily to the new people he had met.

When they reached home, Bilbo put Frodo into bed and went to sit, once again, in front of the fire and stared into it all night until he feel asleep in the early hours of the morning.

From that point on, Hamfast had Frodo visit Bilbo once a month for a week at a time. Bilbo, however, did not know this was the Gaffer's doing, but he was delighted in seeing Frodo so often. Frodo was also delighted in this arrangement, and he loved Bilbo's company and would even sit with his uncle sometimes when he wouldn't leave the fire. Frodo didn't say anything but just sat there leaning against him, letting Bilbo know he was there. Frodo didn't know why his uncle did this, but he didn't ask. He knew Bilbo had gone on an adventure and returned in tears. So, Frodo didn't ask, only sat there in silent support.

Soon these days started happening less and less. Bilbo was becoming happier and happier as the days went on. All of Hobbiton knew this was because of Frodo. It was always because of Frodo.

The day Balin came, Bilbo relapsed. When Gandalf and Balin left, Bilbo went straight for the fire again and sat there for days without a single word to the other residents of Hobbiton. He didn't eat, and he rarely slept.

That was until Frodo came. Frodo came in with the Gaffer and immediately seeked out Bilbo. He found Bilbo sitting next to the fire and automatically went to his side and snuggled into him as he stared blankly into the flames of the well-lit fire.

The Gaffer stood there for several moments looking at the pair before he left with a sad smile on his face.

Soon, luncheon passed and then dinner, and right before supper, Bilbo started to cry. His body shook with tears, and Frodo wrapped his arm around Bilbo's midsection and dug his head into his neck. Soon the crying slowed, and Bilbo's breathing evened out. Frodo followed soon after.

The two walked into town the next afternoon and smiled and chatted with the others as if nothing had happened the night before. Bilbo had given Frodo a hug when they woke up, full of thanks and love. No words were needed between the two.

Bilbo smiled and laughed genuinely that day.

From that day forward, Bilbo had gotten better. Every time something new came up, Bilbo would get through it. He would find himself thinking about his nephew, so full of innocence and love that Bilbo was filled with happiness right then and there.

Bilbo knew it was Frodo that kept him going. And Bilbo also knew that he wasn't treating him like a young lad of eight should be treated. So, Bilbo began to laugh and tell stories to his nephew. He would chase him around the smial and play games with him. Bilbo relished the little boy's laughter like a drug. He loved it.

As Frodo began to get older, Bilbo would still indulge the lad who had helped him get through one of the hardest times of his life. Frodo would also begin to have his own problems, which Bilbo would listen to and give advice to. Frodo, in turn, would also ask Bilbo what was wrong when he could tell he was feeling down. Bilbo would tell him small things but not the whole story yet. He was still much too young for that.

Frodo would still snuggle up to Bilbo whenever he felt the need with his own problems or with Bilbo's. They had become so much like father and son a lot of hobbits in Bilbo's part of the Shire began to call them that. And neither of them minded. Bilbo would always still remind Frodo that he had real parents and not to forget about them. Frodo never did.

When Frodo's parents died, Frodo came to live with Bilbo permanently after a couple of years of consideration. Bilbo's family knew he had problems and didn't want Frodo to be around it constantly. But after a lot of screaming and begging on Frodo's part and much persuasion on Bilbo's, the Tooks decided to have a trial run with supervision.

Falco, Bilbo's cousin, stayed at Bag End for two months, keeping out of the way but still watching and making sure both of them were content together. He watched them both through bouts of sleepless nights, whether it be Bilbo's or Frodo's fault. He watched as they comforted each other in an already formed father-son relation. He watched as Bilbo indulged Frodo with all his wants, but still knew when to say no. He watched as Bilbo played games, sang, and told the young lad storied that engaged him like no other.

So, yes, Falco agreed to let Frodo live with Bilbo. They were a wondrous pair.

Some years later, it was a lonely, warm summer night at Bag End. Bilbo and Frodo were on the roof watching the stars when Frodo began to sing softly.

When you try your best, but you don't succeed

When you get what you want, but not what you need

When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep

Stuck in reverse

Frodo hummed after that for several moments before another voice, Bilbo's, sang quietly after his adopted son.

And the tears come streaming down your face

When you lose something you can't replace

When you love someone, but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?

Five seconds after Bilbo finished the last line, Frodo's voice mingled with his own, voicing his pain and anguish, but hope for the moment.

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you…