All right, let's keep going. I own nothing.

She'd felt it all. The jagged blade. The way it tore through her like she was nothing. She hadn't even heard the one wielding it behind her what with all the noise. Her head had been ringing, a piercing alarm in her ears as the battle surrounded her, closing in. Her new sword had become black with blood a while ago. She'd stopped noticing the time. All her brain had said to her was RUN. Of course, all that was nothing compared to the pain once it happened.

Her own blood had abandoned her, screaming out of the fresh wound in her intestines, the muscle giving way so easily beneath that awful knife. She'd blinked in shock, feeling agony wrack her senses, her whole body, and this crimson, viscous liquid pouring out of her like there was an unlimited supply of it. She had known there wasn't, though. If enough of it came out, she wouldn't feel anything anymore, in the worst of ways.

And yet, she hadn't moved. She'd let herself fall to the ground, not bothering to get back up, too tired. Her limbs were too heavy. When the Orc's throat was slit, spattering her with arterial rain, she didn't even react. She just lay down, her cheek forced into the sand, the blistering heat making her skin bubble, thinking how, after everything that had happened, how nice it would be to just feel absolutely nothing. To be done.

She was trapped inside her own head, lost and tired. It felt like the plug connecting her brain to her body had been torn out. She couldn't move, or speak, or open her eyes. Sure…she could feel still. Her sensory nerves weren't dead even though her motor neurons seemed to be. And she could hear a little, though it sounded off, like the person was drunk and far away. Her only real comfort was the woman who kept coming back to her, Rhea…a doctor maybe? She was so confused…she would've killed for the voice of someone familiar…but she didn't know who those people were, grasping at names, faces, voices, and yet not reaching them. Still, she noticed every time Rhea came in, her cheery, no-nonsense voice, kind of reminding her of someone who might've had green eyes, once. Rhea just talked to her, each time, about everything and anything. It was like a little speck of light. She'd go on about her co-workers, her other patients, the parents she was relieved to have found alive. It brought the girl peace for a little while. She'd told her she was brought to her by a man who'd found her asleep with the corpses…Kian? She wasn't sure. The girl was barely sure that she was alive.

She wasn't really sure how much time had passed either. She knew that occasionally Rhea tipped a sweet, herby, disgusting mix down her throat, that there was a pain in the bottom of her stomach, that her dressings had been changed a couple of times. She didn't really want to think about what nature was doing downstairs. Her body wasn't her own anymore.

TFE TFE TFE TFE TFE TFE

"A young Halfling girl came looking for you. Effing and blinding all over the place! I found it quite funny, but Ioreth felt differently." Who…? The girl was barely listening, and yet she silently willed Rhea to go on, hoping against hope for something she couldn't place. "Anyway, I told her that you were here. She'll be along in a moment, I insisted that she have something to eat and drink before she came to see you, she looked like she needed it." Maybe if this person came to see her, it would help reconnect her to the flesh she knew was hers. She was more desperate than ever to hear a familiar voice, some shred of the life she knew was hers too. She wanted to reclaim it, to make it all hers again for real, even if she no longer knew what it was.

Kim Andrews

I bit my lip until it bled, wincing still at the pain in my back, intensified since dragging myself out of bed and though the winding corridors of Minas Tirith. It didn't matter. All that mattered was seeing Cat. I buzzed with a mixture of relief and frustration and sadness. Relieved at the knowledge she was alive. Frustrated because no one had found her before me in almost a WEEK when all the Fellowship besides Frodo and Sam were meant to be searching, for fuck's sake, though Sam was pitching in against medical advice. And sad…because if what the woman supposedly tending to Cat was saying was true, she wasn't likely to ever wake up.

I hadn't told anyone else yet. For all I knew, this lady was lying, and none of us could deal with more disappointment. Legolas had barely spoken since she'd gone missing. But, I was almost certain that this was real, and I intended to find out.

"Kim, was it?" The same woman I'd been speaking to stood to my left, her tangled black hair swept up into a topknot, her brown eyes tired but patient and kind, her tiny frame swamped by her grey robes. I struggled to my feet as fast as I could, trying to get my shoulders back into the only position they could take without screaming at me. This had to be it. I had promised Cat when we'd been kids that I would never give up on her and surely this was what that meant. I'd cried and cried for days, but now, I was doing something, and I knew that this was what I'd been looking for. "I'm Rhea. She's just in here…what did you say her name was? Perhaps now when I chat to her it'll be less like talking to a stranger," she smiled gently, her voice kind. She genuinely seemed…nice.

"Cat," I answered, daring to speak, fear flooding the syllable. Fear that this wasn't Cat, even though it wasn't as if there were a lot of Elves with red hair floating around. "Short for Catherine. You're…you're sure about this? That it's her?"

"Well, you're the only one who can say. I don't know her. Why don't you come in and see for yourself, mm?" My feet suddenly felt so heavy that they might as well have been diamond blocks. My hesitation made me want to slap myself. What was I doing? Still…with a monumental effort, I dragged one in front of the other, eyes screwed totally shut. What did I even want to see? I didn't know. I knew Cat was going to be in bad shape, I knew she couldn't possibly be okay. Alive was the best I could hope for. I heard the healer stride unafraid into the room ahead of me as I tiptoed, almost feeling I was trespassing. I had no fucking idea what I was feeling anymore. "So, I finally found out your name – Cat! Lovely to know after all these days. Cat, your friend Kim's here to visit."

I managed at last to unclench my stupid optical muscles and open my eyes. It was as if someone had whacked me in the chest with a baseball bat. "Oh…"

She lay, completely unmoving besides the unsteady rhythm of her breaths. Her hair, knotted, greasy and matted, spilled over her pillow like clotted blood. The makeshift bed itself was just pillows and cloth bunched underneath her, a thin comforter covering her legs. Tears filled my eyes as I looked down at her for the first time in a long time, at her hollowing cheeks and thinning fingers, the scratchy red splattered bandages wrapped around her stomach, the hastily stitched gashes on her temple and jaw. Her lips were chapped and dry, her eyes shadowed. Bruises had landed like dirty purple moths on her clear, frosty skin. "Oh, Kitty Cat," I whispered, reaching out to brush her fingers with mine. "What did you do?"

"I don't know if she can hear you, but I like to speak to her anyway. Say anything – it might be a comfort if she can," Rhea offered tentatively, kneeling to check beneath the bandages, a soft swallow my only indication of what she'd seen. Panic froze me within seconds.

"What's wrong?"

I almost saw the shutters go down in Rhea's eyes, her guards flying in to protect her. It was the same look I'd seen on the doctors' faces around my Grandma's hospice bed. Her clean pink mouth opened slightly. "Her wound is deep. It should've killed her immediately…but while it is healing, her stitches are opening constantly. This means there is a higher chance of it festering, or reopening."

"O-okay…but, she could wake up. She's getting better."

"There's a chance, yes."

I chewed my lip. One part of me was hopeful, while the other part knew that hope was as ugly inside as it was pretty outside. There was a chance that Cat would wake up. But there was a potentially bigger chance she wouldn't. Ever. That she'd just fade away one day. I took a shaky breath, swallowing my tears for now. "Well then, I guess there's someone I need to go get. Do you mind, if I bring him in here?"

"I suppose not. As long as you don't make a huge amount of noise or disturb anyone, there should be no difficulties in bringing others here." Rhea smiled and winked. "If Ioreth complains, I saw nothing."

TFE TFE TFE TFE TFE TFE

I'd never thought knocking on a door could be horribly painful until I had to knock with torn shoulder muscles. At least I didn't have to knock too hard. Legolas could hear all too well with his Mr Spock ears. "Hey, Legolas?" I could've sworn I heard a stirring behind the wall of wood between me and his room. "Legolas, listen. I found Cat, okay? You need to come. I don't care if I have to yank you out of that room myself-"

The door swung wide open so suddenly that I stumbled back, landing smack on my ass on the stone floor. I guess the one bright side was I didn't have too far to fall, but my pelvis and shoulders complained anyway. "HEY! Watch it!"

The blond Elf blinked in surprise at the sight of me on the floor before instantly helping me up. "I am so sorry, Kim," he managed to gabble, taking care not to touch or pull on my shoulder. However, his mind was way elsewhere, as I'd predicted it would be. He was a nice guy, but at the moment, his priorities were as fixed as a sniper's target. His blue eyes were full of anxiety, his body language frantic and tense. "Y-you have found her? You found Catherine?"

I nodded, tugging on his hand. "Yeah. But it's not good. Like I said, you need to come, see for yourself, okay? Come on." He squeezed his eyes shut. I couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind. I knew just how much he loved Cat, but at the same time, when tears formed in the crease of his eyes I was completely shocked. I'd never seen the big guy cry before. 'You'd better wake up, Cat,' I thought, anxiety and desperation smearing my inner monologue with stained fingers. 'We're not gonna make it if you don't.'

He took no more persuading. Legolas practically jogged by my side, his step weirdly uneven. I knew he was holding himself back from running. "Thank you, for coming to tell me so quickly. I am most grateful…my searches have been fruitless. It has been difficult not to give up hope." My heart jolted for him. For the second time, I knew that he was the only one here that understood how much I loved Cat, because he loved her just as much as I did. The others cared, obviously, but they didn't know her as well as we did. I surprised myself almost as much as I must've surprised him as I reached out and patted his wrist. Sure. We hadn't gotten along in the past…but we had to stand together now.

"Hey…you're welcome. I know how much you love her. It would've been wrong for me not to come get you." I didn't mention the fact I'd gone to see her first. Yeah, part of me had wanted to make sure that it was Cat…but part of me had already known. I didn't want to crack open that particular box of bugs. He dredged up a dull smile. It was only then I realised just how fucking tired he looked - for the first time since I'd known him he had shadows under his eyes, his face was drawn and closed off. His hair was loose, tumbling over his shoulders and messy as if he hadn't been able to rest properly. If that was how bad Legolas looked, perfect, collected Legolas, I knew I had to look about a thousand times worse. I was completely exhausted, stretched thinner than silk, tear stains undoubtedly still wetting the sides of my eyes. Between that, my injuries and my fudged-up emotional state, I was slightly amazed that I was still standing.

With Rhea now gone for a while, tending to other patients, it was easier to get to Cat's bed. Sure, it was in a little side ward thing so no one could really see us, but with no one else around besides two other sick people on the same dragged together comforter beds who were (hopefully) sleeping, we could spend a little longer than we were maybe meant to.

Legolas stopped dead the second he saw her, still lying there. Bad choice of words, maybe, but the look on his face…like he was being torn apart and glued back together all at once. A shaky breath rattled in his throat. His steps became slower and heavier as he moved to kneel next to Cat. Pain throbbed in my chest, knowing exactly how he was feeling, knowing how much it hurt. It released a whole new tidal wave just looking at her again, even though I already knew the situation. It was just…she was my best, best friend. My not-so-little sister by four months. Seeing her half dead in a grey, lonely room squeezed the life from me, my every breath burning me to take. Shit. Shit. Shit. "Do you want some time alone with her?" My voice rasped in my throat, betraying my tears, but I couldn't bring myself to care anymore. His nearly imperceptible nod had me going as fast as I could for the door, my breath ragged. Once outside, I leaned my hands on a wall that once I could've seen over, bowed my head, and burst into tears.

My anguished, broken scream of "FUCK!" echoed through the city.

Legolas Greenleaf

Never before had quiet felt so crushing.

The silence was such that I could hear the beating of my heart even ere it agonised me. The strong, steady drum of it contrasted with the wavering, erratic hum of Cat's, usually so soothingly constant. I could not bring myself to care for the mute tears that flowed as freely as summer storm rain down my cheeks, nor the sobs that shuddered through my frame. My body was unused to the sheer wretchedness of so many tears. I had not wept so much since the death of my mother, over a thousand years prior…I dared not dwell on that.

I could not feel her there. It seemed as if her spirit had long since passed to Mandos, leaving a vessel that was fading away even before my eyes, even ere I held her hand and felt the glasslike bones beneath. Her warmth had frozen solid. I had no doubt that if she had opened her eyes, their deep, dark blue would have been turned to ice. "Where are you?" I asked, a rushed hiss of despair cracking my voice into almost as many pieces as my heart. "Please, Cat. I need you to come back, we need you to come back. You cannot have left us now. Not after we have won." I raked a hand uncaringly through my tangled, unkempt hair, an anguished fever taking hold of me and racing through my veins. "You must return to me, do you understand? I spent so many years without you, alone, sure that my destiny in love was sealed to a woman who did not love me. You cannot be gone now when I have the chance to show you how beautiful this world is, to show you the life we could build together." I racked my brain for words to say, at a loss, so terrified that these could be my last to her that I was frantic for them to have meaning. What could I say to her now that would hold any significance? I had imagined a future for the two of us. I wanted to hear about where she had come from, to show her my home, to introduce her to my family. I had thought that there was more than enough time to show her how much I loved her.

My own words haunted me now…just as I had said to Cat mere days before, I was longing for more time. Before her, I had never felt the need to wish for such a thing. It came as steadily as a meandering river. I knew that I could expect the years to come and to slip by without too much event, even in the days before I had been sent to Imladris. With Cat, I had lived for every minute, every moment. It was both terrifying and astonishing, and I knew that no matter what happened, I would never be the same as before I had known her. My eyes closed of their own accord, grieving, already mourning for that which I had not yet lost. Not truly. The muscle of my heart clenched acutely, burning, tearing. My entire body glowed with pain. How was it I could think like this? How was it I could let her go so easily? With a frustrated growl, my hand slammed down onto the stone, my teeth clenching at the sting. Incredulity joined my emotions at the realisation that I was no longer in control of them, the anger, the fear, the inescapable pain.

Ripping my eyelids apart, I ran a hand over her head, her once gleaming red hair unpleasant and knotted to the touch, the strands separated by sweat and dirt. For the first time, I nigh on shuddered to touch it, and yet feeling her beneath my fingertips brought me peace. It was almost as if her tangibility gave her permanence.

I did not notice when I opened my mouth, nor when I began to sing. It came as easily as my breath, only one song, half remembered, on my lips.

"This is the start of something beautiful…this is the start of something new…"