"We could still make for the coast. Find a few boats, maybe make it to an island. Wait this whole thing out."
Thorin stared at the map until the lines began to waver in his vision. Nori was still talking, but he wasn't really hearing him. It had been hard to focus—hard to think—since they had made camp after leaving the motel.
They'd cleared out all the buildings on the block and lined up the RV and some dumpsters to create a makeshift barrier across one end of the street. It had made a relatively safe camp for the day, but they all knew it was temporary.
Nori had been the first to start suggesting other places to stay. The coast, a prison, a warehouse—they were all viable options, but support from others had been lukewarm at best. Everyone was still in shock.
"We'll have to get moving eventually," Nori said, "and I'd rather it be soon. We don't know when that herd is going to catch up to us."
Thorin straightened up with a sigh. "You're right." He glanced at the dusty clock on the wall of the convenience store they were standing in. It was almost noon. Most of the shelves in the place had been stripped bare, but the counter by the register was large enough for them to spread out the map.
He'd been surprised to learn that it was Bilbo who had provided it. Looking over it now, he could see circles penned in black ink next to notes in neat, round handwriting. It was the only thing they had left of him, and even though he'd been in their group for a relatively short time, the thought brought an ache to his chest.
But Nori was right. There was no use dwelling on the past, not with walkers on their tail. "We'll leave in an hour. I'll tell everyone to start packing up."
He left the convenience store, stepping out into the sunlight. The breeze carried the barest hint of a chill, a warning that autumn would be on its way soon.
When he had last been outside, the rest of the group had either been resting in the RV or helping Bofur and Bombur take apart some of the tables in a nearby restaurant to help barricade their small camp. It wasn't necessary, but the work provided a distraction from what had happened at the motel.
Dís and Víli were standing by one of the cars, talking to Balin. Even from across the street, Thorin could sense some tension between the three, and walked closer.
"I know what you're going through, here," Balin said. "We're all grieving. But putting yourselves at risk like that—"
"We've already made up our minds," Víli said. He and his wife were both armed.
"What's going on, here?" Thorin asked, stepping up next to Balin.
"We're going back to the motel," Víli said. "We're going to look for Kíli."
Balin gave him a slight grimace, as though they'd been arguing the point for a while, and Thorin shook his head. "I can't let you do that. You won't be able to find him."
"Thorin." Dís's voice was hoarse, her eyes bloodshot. "That's our son. We have to find him. I'm not going to let him wander around as...as one of those things."
"And what about Fíli?" he asked, fighting to keep from raising his voice. "If the both of you leave and don't come back, what the hell is that going to do to him?"
"We'll give the lad a proper funeral once we're somewhere safe," Balin said. "But going back into that mess isn't going to help anyone."
"Listen, we're going to be smart about this," Víli said. "But you can't ask us to leave this alone, to just move on."
"No one is saying that."
"We can't split up. It's not safe." Thorin locked eyes with his brother-in-law. "I'm not letting you leave."
"We're not asking for your permission," Dís said, and he let out an exasperated sigh through his nose. He'd known his sister her whole life, and knew that he wouldn't be able to dissuade her from something like this, especially not when her sons were involved. If he denied her, she would hold it against him for the rest of her life.
Balin had known them both long enough to come to the same conclusion, and he turned to Thorin with a slight shrug.
"I expect you both back before sundown," Thorin said.
Víli nodded, shoulders relaxing slightly.
"Keep an eye on Fíli while we're gone," Dís said as she opened the car door. "Please."
He and Balin went to move one of the dumpsters so they could pull out, and watched them drive until they were out of sight.
Balin sighed and leaned a hand against the RV. "They're both grieving, but Dís is a sharp one. You shouldn't worry too much about them."
"We shouldn't be taking stupid risks like this," Thorin said, shoving the dumpster back in place. "We can't afford to. We thought we were prepared back at the motel, but one oversight cost us two members of our group." He glared down the street. "There are no second chances anymore."
"I hear you, lad." Balin reached up to clap him on the shoulder. "You'd better see how Fíli's doing. I think he's resting right now."
"Right." He turned away, forcing himself to stop looking at the spot where the car had disappeared. The wound of losing his nephew was still fresh in his heart. He couldn't bear the thought of losing anyone else in his family.
"I'll let you know as soon as they come back," Balin said, then headed for the ladder to the roof of the RV.
Thorin wiped some sweat from the back of his neck and made for the door. He nodded to Dori, Glóin, and Óin, who were sitting at the table inside, then pushed open the door to the bedroom in the back.
Fíli was lying curled up on the bed, staring listlessly at the blank wall. He lifted his gaze slightly when Thorin came in, then returned to his original position.
"Hey." He took a seat on the edge of the bed. "How...How are you feeling?"
All he received in response was a slight shrug.
His fingers tapped one knee as he tried to think of what to say next. He'd never known how to deal with the boys when they were upset. He was fine helping Fíli with his homework or playing video games with Kíli, but when it came to the more difficult side of parenting, he was lost.
For a moment, he wondered what Bilbo would have done. He'd been all but a stranger to the boys a few months ago, but in that time he'd taken care of them alone, and Fíli and Kíli seemed no worse for it.
"It wasn't your fault, what happened," he tried.
Fíli's posture grew tighter, more tense. "I should have been looking out for him. I-I thought he was right behind me, but—"
"No." Thorin put a bracing hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't up to you. And no one blames you for it."
His chest jumped with a suppressed sob. "Mom and Dad are going to look for him. And they didn't want to bring me."
"How did you…" He glanced up, and noticed for the first time that the window was open. Fíli had heard their entire conversation. "They didn't want to put you in danger. That's the last thing they'd want."
Fíli said nothing. He stayed rigid, eyes locked onto the wall with a furrowed brow.
Thorin sighed and removed his hand. Fíli had always been more reserved, less optimistic than his brother, but he'd never seen him so despondent before. He would have felt better if he'd decided to cry. He didn't know how to deal with him otherwise.
"You let me know if you need anything." He waited for a response, received none, then stood up and made for the door.
Bilbo winced as Kíli's stomach let out another growl.
They'd been walking for hours, staying to one side of the road to take advantage of the shade, and hadn't found anything in the way of food or water. Bilbo had tried scanning the brush for any berries or nuts, but with no luck.
His mouth was uncomfortably dry, and Kíli's feet were dragging. His own soles were sore from the unforgiving pavement and a few rocks he'd accidentally stepped on.
There had been no sign of the rest of their group, nor any walkers. Bilbo assumed they'd driven to the next sign of civilization, but he had no idea how far down the road that would be.
"So," he began, trying to think of something to talk about. He figured a little conversation would help distract them both from their hunger and exhaustion. "You were in school before...all this. What sort of things were they teaching you?"
Kíli shrugged. "Math and stuff. I think we were learning about the water cycle too."
"Any books?"
"I don't remember."
Bilbo gave a small hum and frowned. He'd have to find some interesting books for Fíli and Kíli to read at some point. Just because the world had ended didn't mean they couldn't have an appreciation for literature.
A white shape through the trees caught his eye, and he put a hand on Kíli's shoulder, motioning for him to stop.
It was a trailer, parked in a clearing about a dozen feet from the road. There was no vehicle to be found, but it had clearly been there for a while—it was covered in rain-smeared grime, and the windowsills were caked with dust.
Bilbo's heart leapt with both hope and anticipation. A trailer, their first evidence of civilization, meant possible supplies, but the possible threat of people as well.
"All right," he said as they drew closer. "I'm going to go in and look around. I want you to wait out here, all right?"
Kíli frowned and reached for his hand. "I don't want you to leave."
"I won't be far," Bilbo said, even as his heart ached for him. After the motel, he never wanted Kíli to feel unsafe again. "Here," he said, leading him over to a thick bush nearby. "I want you to wait here, and if you see anyone around, shout for me. And then I want you to hide, and I'll come get you as soon as I can."
Reluctantly, Kíli released his hand. "Promise you won't leave?"
"I swear it." Bilbo held his gaze until he was confidence he would do what he asked, then turned towards the trailer.
Inside, the windows were dark, and the door shut, but that was no guarantee it was empty. The last thing Bilbo wanted to do was disturb someone, especially if they were dangerous, but he needed to take that risk before one of them died of dehydration.
With one hand on his still-empty gun, Bilbo reached up and knocked. After a minute of silence, he pushed the door open.
A horrendous stench flooded out into the open air, and the sound of buzzing flies became audible. He gagged, turning away with one hand flying to his nose. The smell was a nauseating cocktail of old meat, rotting cabbage, and something else he couldn't even begin to identify.
Kíli's head peeked over the bush, eyes widening in concern, and Bilbo tried to give him a reassuring smile.
At the very least, he could be confident that no one was living in there, as he was sure no human being, perhaps not even a walker, would be able to tolerate such a smell.
Pinching his nose with one hand, Bilbo opened the door the rest of the way and stepped inside.
It was dim inside the trailer, the air clouded with dust and flies, but his attention was immediately drawn to the scene in the bedroom. Through the narrow door, a dark stain against the back wall was visible. Bilbo stepped closer, and began to shake as he caught sight of the body lying on the bed, and the gaping hole where its jaw used to be.
With a strangled groan, he turned towards the door. That was it. He was going to be sick.
He took several heaving breaths, though there was nothing he could have thrown up anyway. Feeling dizzy, Bilbo turned back to the trailer. The rest of it was surprisingly neat, barring the dead body in the back.
The next thing that caught his attention was the whiteboard propped up on one of the counters. When he stepped closer, he could make out a message scrawled in green marker.
Dear stranger,
If you've found this note, it means I'm already dead, and sorry for the smell. I have no place in a world like this, but if you feel you do, you're welcome to take anything you like.
Best of luck.
B
Bilbo let out a slow breath and looked around the cramped space. As disturbing as it was to steal from a dead man's trailer, he did have permission now. And it would be a heavier weight on his conscience if he let Kíli go hungry.
He thought back to what Thorin had said when they had gone back to his apartment for the last time. Whatever they have is more use to us than them. With that in mind, he steeled himself and began searching the trailer for anything they might find useful.
His first step was to close the bedroom door, both to avoid looking at the grotesque body and relieve its awful smell somewhat. His next priority was the pantry, which was disappointingly sparse but thankfully not empty. He pulled out a couple of cans and a large bag of trail mix and set them on the table.
Going through the drawers, he took a pocket knife and a lighter, both of which would probably come in handy. The rest of the drawers were either empty or filled with pencils and towels and other things that didn't seem worth carrying.
Bilbo was about to move on when he glanced under the sink and a half-dozen unopened water bottles caught his eye. He let out a sigh of relief, aware of the air rushing over his parched tongue. Kneeling down, he reached out to open the first one, then stopped himself.
Kíli was still watching the trailer when he walked out, and straightened when Bilbo beckoned him over.
"Here." He unscrewed the bottle and handed it to him, struggling to swallow as a bit of water spilled onto his hand.
Kíli tipped his head back and drank in deep gulps, so quickly that Bilbo started to get a bit concerned.
"Slowly, now," he said, putting a hand on his back. "Don't want to make yourself sick."
He finished drinking with a satisfied, ah, and handed the bottle back. "Thanks."
Instead of responding, Bilbo tipped back the bottle and downed the quarter that was left. The water was only slightly cool, but he could feel the sensation cascade down his chest as he drank.
"All right," he said once he was finished. "There's more inside the trailer. I'm going to finish up, but I want you to wait out here, all right?"
Kíli wrinkled his nose. "It smells bad in there."
He nodded with a grimace, unsure how to explain what he'd found. "Why don't you keep lookout for me? I won't be more than a minute."
"Okay." He leaned against the trailer, hands behind his back, and Bilbo stepped back inside.
There wasn't much inside the bathroom (he didn't feel too keen on taking someone else's toothbrush), but in the closet he found a backpack. Leaning against the corner was a rifle and a box of ammunition, and after a moment's hesitation, he took that too. He didn't even know how to load it, or check if it already was, but it would be a bit more help than his empty gun.
He glanced down at his socked feet with a frown, but decided he wasn't yet at the point where he would consider prying shoes off a dead man's feet.
With his sweep completed, he stuffed the food, water, and ammo into the backpack, slung the rifle over his shoulder, and stepped back outside.
"Ready to go?" he asked Kíli, who nodded.
"Is there any more water?" he asked as they began walking.
"Yes." Bilbo reached into his pack. "But we should try to make it last. We don't know when's the next time we'll be able to get some more."
Kíli accepted the bottle and drank, more slowly this time, making sure to leave half of it left over. Bilbo smiled and stowed it away again.
They stepped back onto the road, and with the sun shining down and the reassuring weight of supplies on his shoulders, his heart felt lighter than it had in days.
"Would you like something to eat?" Bilbo asked, already pulling out the trail mix since he knew what the answer would be.
Kíli eagerly accepted the bag and munched on it as they walked. Bilbo could feel his stomach rumble at the sight of food, but he knew he could go hungry for longer. After a while, he noticed he was only picking out the bits of chocolate and raisins.
"You know, you should be eating the nuts, too."
He shoved another raisin into his mouth. "I don't like peanuts."
Bilbo sighed and shook his head. Over the weeks that he had lived with the boys in his apartment, he'd learned rather quickly that Kíli was a picky eater. Fíli had similar preferences, but was more likely to eat what was in front of him without complaint. Thinking of the older boy made his heart ache, so he put it out of his head.
"To be fair, peanuts don't taste very good on their own. Salted and roasted, however, they can be delicious. That goes for most vegetables too."
Kíli made a disgusted noise. "I don't like vegetables."
"Well, that's only because you've never had them cooked properly. My aunt Mirabella used to make the most delicious brussels sprouts, with olive oil and salt and some other sauce that she never revealed to anyone." His stomach gave another growl at that.
"What's brussels sprouts?"
He decided not to answer that. "Just eat some of the nuts, all right? If you only eat the sweet bits then you'll get hungry faster."
"I'll eat them after." Kíli buried his hand in the bag nearly up to his wrist in search of another chocolate bit.
Bilbo adjusted the straps of the backpack with a low grumble. He'd never had to try too hard in disciplining Kíli, as his brother had done a fine enough job of keeping him in line. Besides, he'd never deemed anything dreadfully important besides making sure they didn't do anything irresponsible that would lead them to the jaws of a walker. But in this case, he did want to make sure Kíli wasn't malnourished by the time he returned him to his parents.
He reached over to scoop a peanut out of the bag and held it up. "Open your mouth."
Kíli eyed him skeptically for a moment, then did as he was asked. Bilbo tossed it the short distance inside, and he instinctively bit down and chewed on it. He made a face and swallowed.
"Still tastes bad." He took out another peanut and held it out. "Your turn."
"All right." Bilbo dutifully opened his mouth, then laughed as the peanut hit his cheek and fell to the ground.
They went back and forth until the bag was halfway empty, and a trail of peanuts marked their path down the road. Bilbo knew it probably wasn't wise to be wasting so much of their food, but he hadn't seen Kíli grin this much since before the motel had been overrun.
The sun was setting by the time they reached the next sign of civilization—a gas station tucked between two clusters of pine.
Bilbo made Kíli hide while he checked the area, but the front area was empty, as was the small store in the back.
The shelves had been cleared out entirely, though Bilbo did manage to find a few bags of chips and some candy bars in some hidden corners.
"Look." Kíli approached with a liter bottle of soda clutched between both hands.
Bilbo glanced towards the fridges lining the back wall. The power had gone out, so none of the bottles were cold anymore. He took the soda from Kíli with a frown.
"I'm not sure if this is good anymore." He twisted it open and gave a tentative sniff. The soda had gone flat, but it didn't seem to have gone bad. With however many chemicals were in it, he wasn't sure if it could go bad. Besides, they'd drank another two water bottles between them on the way here, their thirst not having been helped at all by the peanuts. They weren't exactly in a position to be picky.
He took an experimental swig of the soda and hummed at the taste. It didn't taste very good, but he'd take it over a dry throat. He handed it back to Kíli, who took a drink as well and nearly tipped over the bottle with his smaller hands.
"It's not bubbly anymore." Kíli looked down at it with a frown, then reached for the cap.
Bilbo decided to leave him to it, and took another look around the store. It would be a good place to stop for the night, though he would have to find a way to block the door in case any walkers wandered in. Perhaps he could move some of the shelves.
A swishing noise sounded behind him, and he turned to see Kíli vigorously shaking the closed bottle of soda.
"What are you—"
With an uncharacteristic amount of focus, Kíli opened the bottle again and held it out. A small layer of fizz rose to the top, but none of it spilled over.
"I thought it would make more bubbles." He closed the bottle again.
"You would have made a mess all over the floor." Bilbo put his hands on his hips, though he couldn't hide his smile. "No more of that nonsense, all right? I'm going to start dinner for us."
Dinner consisted of a can of beans split between the two of them, carefully pried open with his new pocket knife, as well as their packets of chips and candy. Bilbo didn't know how long it would be until they found more food, or if he should be rationing it more carefully, but they were both hungry and tired and he thought they deserved a good meal after a day of walking.
Though the shelves were too heavy to move, he managed to push some of the smaller racks against the doors, and placed some empty cans and bottles on top. If anyone tried pushing on the doors, they would fall and hopefully the noise would wake them.
Night had fallen by the time they settled down at the back of the store. Bilbo gave Kíli his backpack as a pillow of sorts, settled the rifle on his other side, and laid down on the tile. As far as places to sleep went, it was below a bed but decidedly above a tree branch. He was exhausted enough that sleep was already beginning to seep into his limbs.
He thought Kíli was also asleep, but his eyes fluttered open as he mumbled, "D'you think we're gonna find our family?"
Bilbo took a moment to ponder the word our, then decided that perhaps he was too tired to choose his words correctly. "I certainly hope so. We'll keep looking tomorrow, all right?"
"I hope Fee…" Kíli started, but the rest of his sentence was lost to uncannily still silence of the room, and a minute later, his breathing evened out, and Bilbo knew he was asleep.
It wasn't long before his own eyes drifted closed, and he wasn't quite conscious enough to hear the low rumble of a car engine passing by.
Against Thorin's wishes, they'd spent the night in the same spot.
Dís and Víli had come back exhausted and dejected, having found no sign of Kíli or Bilbo—dead or alive. That had been enough to lower everyone's spirits, and Nori had reasoned that they'd be safer waiting until daytime to start traveling.
Víli had informed him that the herd that had attacked the motel had dispersed somewhat, and they'd taken a detour into a campground to lure them away from the rest of the group.
Now, as day broke, Thorin was helping to load the remainder of their supplies into his car. They were nearly ready to leave, and Nori had already outlined a route west, towards the coast.
Bombur let out a low, short whistle, and everyone turned to him. He gestured down the road, to the end they hadn't blocked with the RV, and Thorin tensed as he spotted a man walking towards them.
He was bald, and bulky enough that his arms swung at his sides as he walked. His hands were empty, but the gun at his hip was visible.
Immediately, everyone had their weapons drawn and aimed at the stranger.
"Oi, no need for that." The man held up his hands in surrender, but continued in advance. "I come in peace. The name's Tom."
"You stay where you are," Thorin said, striding to the front of the group with his gun raised.
Tom took a couple more steps, then stopped. "I don't want any trouble, see. I was just hoping for a bit of a trade."
"We're not looking to bargain with anyone."
Next to him, Víli glanced around with a frown. "Doesn't look like you have anything to trade with."
"Who's we?" Dwalin muttered, apparently loud enough for Tom to hear. He lifted one finger upwards.
"I've got a friend or two with me."
They realized he was pointing, and looked up. Three stories above, a man just as burly as the first was standing on the roof of a nearby building, aiming a rifle down at them.
"That's Bert."
On the other side of the camp, Ori let out a yelp. A third man had climbed atop the RV and wrestled the rifle from his hands. He seized him by the shoulders and threw him to the ground. Ori let out a pained grunt as he hit the ground, and Dori stepped forward with a growl.
"You son of a bitch." He raised his gun, but froze as the rifle on the roof went off, and a bullet pinged at his feet.
"And that's our friend William."
With adrenaline thrumming in his veins, Thorin turned to glare at Tom, and grudgingly motioned for the group to lower their weapons.
Tom smiled widely and drew his own gun. "Now, how's about we figure out a trade?"
Someone was sharp enough to guess that the men from chapter 3 were the trolls. I originally wasn't going to have them reappear because I didn't have a spot for them, but they decided to show up anyway.
I enjoyed writing Bilbo&Kili shenanigans in his chapter, though I feel bad about leaving Fili depressed in the RV...
I haven't read much fics about Dis and Vili as parents, but I decided to make them just a little bit headass. I figured they're young parents, probably met in college, still trying to figure this whole thing out.
