Author's Note: You will probably cry. Don't kill me yet I have to update a few stories first.
Pain shot through Thorin's rib cage as the perpetrator fired his gun before being taken down by Bofur. Dwalin came over to him, shouting about one thing or another, while Bofur and Dori moved in towards the man's body. All around him, the noise and chaos from the wailing sirens to the growing crowd fell on deaf ears as he slowly looked down at the bleeding wound. It was as if he was just now realizing what had happened and everything rushed into his mind. Falling to his knees, he knew from the look in Dwalin's resigned eyes what was happening to him. But there was something he had to do first.
"Thorin, the paramedics are on their way. Balin's calling them-"
"Pass me your phone," Thorin ground out.
"My phone? Thorin, you arrogant ass, we have to get you to the-"
"Dwalin, stop. I know."
Hardened gray eyes softened momentarily before Dwalin reached into his pocket and took how the device. Thorin took it in his bloody hands -when had he stopped pressing against the wound?- and dialed the number that he had memorized the first day when he had run into a small curly-haired man outside Ori's art studio. Was it really only four years since then? Four years of blissful romance, love, and family? His heart gave a painful thump, but that might have come from the bullet that was inching itself deeper into his internal organs. It seems his dry humor was going to follow him to death.
"Hello? Dwalin?" His voice still manages to soothe me, even now.
"Bilbo..."
"Thorin? What are you doing? I thought you working right now."
"I am. I just wanted to call and check up on you. See how the boys were doing"
"Oh, I'm just peachy. Well, Frodo keeps throwing around the mash potatoes and Fili was kicking around his football and broke the vase. Kili blamed it on Gandalf again. I swear that cat gets no break."
"Not the yellow one."
"The yellow one. It's a good thing Bifur got us that spare for our anniversary. Sometimes I wonder what's the point of keeping that thing sitting out. One of the twins is bound to break it."
"The cornflowers."
"Ah yes, those. Well they do go wonderfully with the vase, now don't they? What time are you planning on being home; Dis wants to come over for dinner."
Home. With his husband and children. Thorin felt the tears burning in his eyes but he refused to let them slip. The wince Dwalin gave proved he failed in that aspect. The last time he had cried that much he had been at his father's funeral. In fact, he hadn't shed a tear since his and Bilbo's wedding. Grunting to clear his throat, Thorin brushed those morbid thoughts away. Sad and sullen was not how Bilbo going to remember their last conversation. He'd be damned if that's how it went down.
"Thorin? Are you okay? Why are you calling me from Dwalin's phone anyway? Is everything alright?"
"I left mine in the car. I'll be home soon, love. Tell the boys I love them alright?"
"Thorin, are you sure? Is everything fine?"
Feeling suddenly exhausted, Thorin took in a deep breath -ignoring the sudden flare of pain that came from his chest- before continuing and saying, "Everything's fine, Bilbo. I'm just wrapping things up. I'll be with you soon enough."
"Alright. Well, I'll tell the boys. Oh, and be careful out there okay? The last thing I need is for you to get you heroic ass hurt, do you hear me?"
Thorin laughed, managing to make it sound pain free. He somehow managed to ignore the obvious tear stains on Dwalin's scarred cheeks and the soft sobs that Bofur was letting out. "I hear you, love." Feeling himself become even more exhausted, Thorin knew he was running out of time. "I have to go, Bilbo. I love you, okay? More than anything."
"I love you, too, Thorin. Frodo threw some more mashed potato around, so I'm guessing he's saying he loves you too...Thorin? Thorin, are you there? Thorin?"
The phone fell out of Thorin's limp hand as his armed sagged and hit the pavement beside his lifeless body, Bilbo's questios piercing through the silence surrounding the crime scene from where is lay.