The rain hit hard on his face when he walked through the empty streets middle of the night, heading back at home dragging along his bag.
The weather was perfect mirror of his feelings at that moment. He was tired and empty. He wanted to slip away with the darkness, to forget everything what he had seen in the past year and half. He was finally going home but he had left something of himself behind that he could never get back.
There was story weighing his now so thin shoulders. It hurt, the wound was still so raw, both in flesh and inside his darkened mind. He had hurt so many people knowing what he did. He couldn't forgive himself.
When he walked over the bridge he stopped to look the black river below of him, running fast forward. There was no hope left, he knew that, they would never let him forget.
He forced himself to walk forward until he reached the familiar green door. He picked the key and looked it like it was foreign item, not the familiar key to his own home, heritage from his parents. The door squeaked and he stepped inside knowing that Hamfast had been there taking care of everything, that the pantry would be full of food and there would be fresh sheets on his bed waiting him to crash down.
But never before he hadn't been away so long and never before he hadn't felt that this wasn't his home, that his home was somewhere else, far away from the Shire and the peaceful countryside that surrounded the place. A home where he couldn't go back anymore. Not if he valued his life.
The weak sound of his smartphone made him wince and he fished it out of his wet pocket.
from
'Let me know when you're back. Please. I'm sorry. I didn't know.'
He looked the message and deleted it.
No, he couldn't forgive anyone, not himself, not his boss, not his former friends.
He walked through the house, taking in the familiar sight of the books and sofa and fireplace. He peeked inside the fridge and there was some fresh tomatoes, no doubt from his own garden. Weak smile lingered on his lips for a moment, like a ghost from past, but it died away as soon as he closed the door.
Still in his wet clothes he sat down front of his kitchen table suddenly afraid to go upstairs to his bedroom knowing that there would be no one beside him during the darkest hours of the night.
And he knew that there would be nightmares as soon as he would close his eyes, haunting him until his dying day. He shivered and finally took of his jacket, letting it fall on the floor. He kicked off his shoes knowing that the fine leather was ruined, knowing that there was enough money that he would buy a shop whole of shoes if he wanted.
Now he was one of the richest men in the world.
He hated it.
He closed his eyes sinking in warmer memories and the presence of his lover. The time stopped and he could feel and hear him, his deep rough voice against his skin.
"I love you."
There were no tears left and Bilbo sighed. He had made his choice and the reality hit hard, his memories crashing down.
To him the whole world was now cold and empty. When he picked up again his phone and logged into his bank account he knew exactly what to do.
By the morning he had done what needed and he dragged himself up and his bed hoping that he was too tired to dream anymore. He pulled the thin blanked over his now dump clothes watching how the sun slowly rose staining bedroom in gold. How much he hated that and he closed his eyes refusing to see its beauty.
From there Gandalf Grey and Hamfast found his shivering feverish form the next evening.
#
AN
No beta, English isn't my language, I try to find someone but can't promise anything. Don't read if you don't like, simple.
I do not own anything.
