Sam's Sickness

A/n I don't own nuttin' it all goes to Tolkien. And I apologize in advance for all my grammatical errors and such. Because for this piece I didn't stop to question about whether or not the comma in the right place I just wrote from my heart, I thought that's what fan fiction was all about not if a comma's in the wrong spot or not I'm done ranting please don't flame me. Constructive criticism is welcome. All right shutting up now. Thank you for reading!

Is oliphant spelled right? if anyone knows how it is spelled please review and tell me. It will be greatly appreciated! 

(Sam and Frodo stumble over the rocks of Emyn Muil, both stop to gaze at Mordor).

"I'm scared Sam, I cannot do this, the Ring is too heavy. I have not the strength and what if something happens to you? I'd never forgive myself!" Frodo stated desperately.

 "Mister Frodo, I think you're tired. Why don't we rest here for awhile?" Sam said aloud. But inside it was Sam who needed a rest. Lately he had been getting bad headaches, and a weird rash had been spreading all over his body. He had been on the brink of telling Frodo many times but each time Frodo had a look of despair on h is face or he was looking ahead at Mordor.

 "I think you're right Sam, I do need a rest," Frodo replied gratefully.  Frodo slouched against a rock, lost in thought, but something made him turn to look at Sam.

Sam was bent over holding his head.

 "Are you alright?" Silence. Frodo noticed a rash creeping up Sam's neck, "Sam, answer me are you alright?"

The only reply was Sam falling over, head first.

"Sam!"

Sam stirred as he felt a damp cloth on his face.

 "Gaffer? Am I back in the Shire?" Sam sat up and embraced the air, "Oh Gaffer! I missed you so much...oh! Look green hills and hobbit holes, how I missed them too."

 "He's delirious," Frodo thought to himself, as Sam continued to babble on about the Shire to an unseen Gaffer. "I have to get him help but how… I guess I better take him to Gondor and have him taken care of there.

 But now Frodo faced a problem, Sam was twice the size of him. There was no way Sam could walk down a mountain unaided and there was also no way that Frodo could aid Sam down a mountain either! Frodo slouched back against his rock when he realized that he hadn't gone over to Sam when he fell.

Sam, why didn't you tell me you were sick?" Frodo screamed, not expecting an answer – ever. Frodo ran over to Sam and flipped him over and as he did Frodo's hand brushed against Sam's forehead; Sam was burning up!

 "Samwise Gamgee, don't you go dying on me now, we've gotten too close you can't die on me now."

Frodo sat Sam up against a rock, relieving him of his pack. Frodo tried to feed him some water and lembas, hoping that the elvish bread would help in someway. It did, it broke the fever for a bit but soon Sam's head burned hotter then before. But he seemed to be sleeping soundly for now, so Frodo tried to think of something to help Sam.

Smeagol had left them several days ago, and there was no way to reach the fellowship even if he knew where they were now. Frodo stood up and picked up a stone and threw it has far as he could. He sat back down and watched it tumble down the slope just as his life had in  the…week, month, year? Frodo had no idea how long his quest had been going on for and he really did care, for all he had held dear in this world crumbled and was lost for him. Frodo closed his eyes. In the distance he heard the roar of an Oliphant. He told himself relax it's just an olipha-. Frodo jumped to his feet. An oliphant! He stumbled over to the other side of the cliff dragging Sam behind him. Sam awoke saw the oliphant thought he died and fainted. Frodo is speechless and in awe, and then suddenly green cloaked archers open fire on the oliphants! Frodo jumped up then he noticed a rather large army of evil looking men around the oliphants. Suddenly he was grabbed from behind and yanked backwards.

Frodo went sprawling over the rough surface and went to cry out when a big, rough hand clamped over his mouth. He bit down on it and softly stated "I don't care what you do with me, but please, help my friend Sam, he's sick,"

"Eh, boss!" the one standing over Frodo yelled. The largest green archer turned.

"What?" he snapped.

"the little one here said he's got a fri –" Clunk!

With that, Sam knocked him upside his head with one of his pots, then continued to smack anyone who got in his way. Frodo broke free and grabbed a pot of his own. The archers backed up.

 "I'm glad you're okay, Gaffer," Sam managed to say before he smacked the ground again.

 "Sam!"

The archers closed in again, one picked up Sam and threw him over his shoulder, another grabbed Frodo piggy-back style and they carried the two hobbits in this fashion for what seemed like days but where in reality just a few meager hours with frequent stops for Sam's benefit.  There was a rare moment where they left Frodo and Sam together by the river. Sam cracked in eye open.

"I'm sorry Mr. Frodo, I didn't mean to let you down. I really am truly sorry."

"Don't be sorry Sam, close your eyes and rest up so you can be well again."

"If I close my eyes they will not open again."

"Don't say that"

"'tis true, please tell the fellowship that I'm sorry, and tell Rosie that I loved her, I'm so sorry Mr. Frodo, I just cant' hold on anymore."

"It's okay, let go, I'll miss you."

"Goodbye Mr. Frodo" with that all said Sam's eyes slowly shut.

"Bye" The archers came back and one went to reach for Sam-

"Don't bother he's dead"

The archers let the grief stricken hobbit go on his way, to fulfill his destiny as it had been designed-alone.