Okay, so this story's a sequel to 'Return of the King.' Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin return to live with Aragorn when their own wounds don't heal. It's working...But what happens when the tough Frodo Baggins finally cracks. K, this is a pretty dumb story, and don't make sense, but I write for my satisfaction, to show that I can write. So you can criticise all you want.Yours sincerely, Wendy Baggins. And no, the characters are literally immortal, I don't care about the disclaimer anymore
Chapter 1: Recovering and Regaining
"How is he?" Frodo asked in a quiet voice as he entered the room, carrying a tray of chicken soup and a round white bottle followed by a mug of water.
Merry shook his head. "It's not working! Nothing's working!"
Frodo lay the tray down and put a hand on Merry's shoulder to calm him down.
"It's okay, Pippin's dealt with more than a 29 year old could normally have handled with. He can pull through this. I promise."
Merry glared at him and pushed him away. "What good does promising do?"
Frodo smiled patiently. "Just humour me, Mer."
Merry scowled, but then his eye muscles relaxed.
"I know, I'm just..."
"Worried." Frodo finished, ruffling his hair. "Just keep hoping. It'll be okay. I know it will. Anyway, call me, I'll be in the kitchen, alright?"
"Yeah. Okay."
Frodo hugged him and then disappeared out of the door.
Merry sank into a chair, feeling a thousand years older.
It was near evening when Frodo started to cough.
"Oh no, not you too..." Merry groaned. Frodo smiled again, but there wasn't a person who couldn't tell that it was only forced.
"I'm staying here with Pippin tonight, no don't even think about it Sam, I'm fine. There are some dishes, could you wash them for me? Thank you."
"Frodo, if you don't get well soon, I will drag you to the bed." Merry said as he stood up. "Literally."
"Hoy, it's not my fault I get sick easily."
"You get exposed to diseases quickly?!"
"Never mind, you should be resting, remember?"
"Okay, fine, just take care of yourself."
By midnight Pippin's fever had finally broken and Frodo went to tell Merry the good news.
"Frodo, what the hell are you doing up at midnight?!"
"Don't curse," Frodo said wearily, clutching his head.
Merry stopped. Wearily. Frodo was never weak, or admitted if he was in any pain, but now he was so this sickness must be bad. He wrapped an arm around his elder cousin and held him close.
"You're burning up."
"I know. Don't nag." Frodo muttered.
"So what did you want to tell me?"
"Pippin's awake and wants you," Frodo gasped and fainted.
"Oh joy," Merry replied sarcastically as he caught him.
A/N: next update on Friday!!! This one duh
