A.N. Thank you all for your patience! Yikes, this one was a toughie. I spent forever going through it in my mind, and then working on it once I got it to paper, and, finally, the computer. Staying up waaaaaay past my bedtime so I can finish editing, and get this to you. This chapter means a lot to me, and I hope it will touch you in some way. Warning: Angst ahead.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and plot points.
The vacation to St. Lucia had been half his idea, and half his sister's. Coming home from 'Nam had nearly broken him. After all the horrors he had seen during the war, being spat on, and having eggs thrown at his house by his own people made it all seem that much more pointless. No one knew, but he had cried more since his return, than all the rest of his life combined. The only real solace he'd found had been in riding his horses, and teaching MMA to local kids. When the bags under his eyes refused to go away, and he punched a man for calling him a baby killer, John and his sister figured it was time to get away. His parents, always supportive, had insisted on paying. John found it counter-productive, considering he lived off of the trust fund they'd set up, but it was a kind gesture.
A week into the trip, he had been out on a boat when he heard someone, a woman, screaming for help. The sound was gut-wrenching, and brought back memories of women screaming while holding their loved ones. Without a second thought, he had jumped into the water, and swam toward the voice. It faded away on sobs, but he saw a flash under the water, and was then pulled under. When he awoke, he was in Rivendell. At first, he'd laughed when Elrond had told him where he was, waiting for the punch line. There wasn't one. Only after seeing the whole of Rivendell for himself did he believe. No one knew how, or why he'd gotten there. For a bit, no one knew what to do with him, either.
Thus began two of the longest years of his life. Elrond had been open to John living in one of the kingdoms of Men, but there was no way of knowing if, or when he may return home. Being a practical man, John knew that the best option was staying in Rivendell. It helped that they had amazing stables full of stunning horses that needed tending. He as more than happy to muck stalls, and mend saddles so long as he also got to ride in the afternoon. There was also enjoyment to be found in weapons training with the elves. They kicked his ass most of the time, but he learned a lot from them, and was even able to teach them through MMA. Still, he missed his own world, and people. He missed going to a bar and drinking beer with his buddies, swapping crude jokes. He missed women wearing low jeans and cropped shirts. More than a lot of things, he missed sex. Having been raised as a good, Christian man, he'd resisted temptation most of his life, but had given in after signing up for the war. Even then, his transgressions were few and far between. In Rivendell, with no real chance of any rendezvous, he began to feel the strain.
When he found out that the Company of Thorin Oakenshield was in Rivendell excitement flooded him in a way it hadn't in nearly two years. He hunted Elrond down, and begged to be introduced. The excitement running through his veins heightened with the knowledge that there was also a woman from another world. Never would he have imagined her to be from his world, nor his future. Neither would he have imagined her to be so beautiful. He had been momentarily stunned, then delighted by her. However, he had also seen the way she and Thorin looked at each other. They were clearly in denial, particularly Thorin, but John knew he didn't stand a chance. Did that stop him from falling for her? Of course not. For a while, he blamed it on his starved hormones. That excuse quickly ran dry.
As he joined the quest, he realized more and more that his place in her life would be that of a friend and protector, though a protector from afar, once Thorin got closer to her. What happened with Rachel on the cliff was a turning point. A few things happened that night, including John realizing that it should be him who dealt with Rachel. Danica wanted to save her, and though Thorin knew what needed to be done, John didn't want that to haunt him, especially if he and Danica could have a life together. However, the decision began haunting John instead. His dreams were filled with the screams of women dying in Vietnam. Perhaps, because his hands were already so covered with blood, he had always been meant to deal with Rachel. Looking at her now, in the Master's mansion, he felt certain her death would be the final mark to send him to hell.
"Dani, I see you recovered nicely after our last encounter," Rachel's sneer had John feeling like hell may be worth it.
"No thanks to you," John countered, unable to remain quiet.
Their host/captor was unperturbed, smirk growing. "Easy, Cowboy. If you play your cards right, you can come out of this unscathed. After all, you did everything I asked. As did you, Bain. You can go join your sisters,"
With a nod of her head, one of the orcs escorted Bain into a different part of the mansion.
"What do you want Rachel?" Danica questioned, teeth clenched. "You've got us here, and the dwarves have been taken care of, so what is the next step?"
Rachel stood, and John noticed a large man, cowering behind the chair between two orcs. Cleaned up, he would be a complete fop, but he was too bedraggled to look anything short of pathetic. The last few days had clearly been hard on him, leaving his cheeks and eyes sunken in. John suspected this was the Master, though he held nothing remotely close to authority or pride. His eyes flicked nervously up to the two new captors, then back to the floor.
"Where's Bilbo?" Rachel's voice held a note of suspicion, but Danica didn't flinch.
"I don't know," she responded. "I haven't seen him since we were attacked by the spiders,"
Surprisingly, Rachel shivered. "Better you than me,"
John raised an eyebrow. "You keep company with orcs, but can't handle spiders?"
Her only response was a wry look that spoke volumes. "What I want," she began, looking back at Danica, "is for you to give every detail you have about the rest of the quest. Then we can go home,"
There was no chance it was that easy, but even if it was, Danica would never agree to it. But, they needed to stall. A fluttering above their heads told of Estellia's presence. John prayed that it meant the others were on their way. Danica must have had the same thought, for she relaxed ever-so-slightly, and sighed.
"Just the rest of the quest?" her voice was tired, and resigned.
"That's all," to her credit, Rachel's air of victory was cautious.
"Let Bard's children go, then take me to a map," Danica said. "Or bring one to me. I can show you exactly where they would have gone, and may still go if Bilbo somehow manages to break them out. I can also give details about the battle,"
"You can't be serious!" John exclaimed, hoping it would just be for show. "After all we've been through with them? What about Thorin?!"
Acting had certainly been in Danica's bones. Tears glistened in her eyes, which were narrowed in anger. "Don't you date bring him into this! If Thranduil can keep them in the dungeons, then at least he won't die," her voice broke on the last word.
They stared at each other, and John found himself at a loss for words.
"There are still too many lives at risk here," Danica breathed.
"Take them to the library, and have our 'host' here pull out a detailed map of the region," Rachel instructed.
The orcs roughly pulled them away, only to pause at the sudden sounds of chaos outside. Screams cut through the night, and someone began pounding on the front door. A male voice yelled of fire in the armory. With a barked order from their leader, the orcs holding Danica and John tossed them into a room, and left after locking the door. There was some yelling, and frantic conversation outside. Then, silence. John took a deep breath, and looked at Danica.
"You alright?" he asked softly. "That was quite a convincing performance,"
"Did what I had to do," she replied, looking around the small space. "Bilbo? Are you here?"
No answer. "Guess we're on our own," John began working out of his restraints, then helped Danica out of hers. "There's likely at least one guard on the other side of the door. At this point, the best thing to do would be to wait for Estellia or Bilbo to give us a signal,"
"My favorite thing to do. Wait,"
Agitation rang in her tone, and had her pacing back and forth, then putting her ear to the door. John watched her for a few moments. She was so tiny, but so strong. There was a plethora of thoughts and emotions constantly running through her, but she always managed to be there for others. Intercepting her mid-pace, he pulled her into his arms. She remained tense at first, then relaxed a little.
"I have this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it won't go away," her voice caught again, and he knew her emotions were only heightening.
"Hey, everything is going to work out," he assured, pulling back so he could frame her face with his hands. "Even if something does happen, I want you to remember how strong, and loved you are. No matter what this night brings, you are not alone,"
Her nose wrinkled to the side as she sniffed. "I know you're right, but that only makes me feel worse,"
What he did next was something he'd thought about doing since he set eyes on her. Something incredibly stupid. His brain suddenly stopped working, and he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. She gasped, then went completely still. When he didn't immediately pull away, she put her hands on his chest, and gave a small push.
"I can't," she murmured. "I'm sorry," moving back, she turned away from him.
"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. Damnit," he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. What he wouldn't give for a shot right now. Nah. That'd make things worse. Damned repressed hormones. "I know you and Thorin have always, well…I got carried away. I'm sorry,"
Sadness, guilt, and understanding were in Danica's eyes when she looked at him again, but she didn't get the chance to say anything. Footsteps gave them only a brief warning before the door flew open. John instantly jumped in front of Danica, shielding her from the two orcs that entered with a furious Rachel. She moved ahead of her body guards, and pointed a sword at John.
"What have you two done?!" her voice was almost like the growling scream of a mountain lion. Wild fury burned like fire in her widened eyes. Madness was taking over, and she was capable of anything.
"We have been here the whole time," John said calmly.
The tip of the sword nicked his skin as Rachel jerked her arm in anger. "Don't play games with me! I know you somehow got Bilbo and the dwarves here. They killed most of my orcs, and started a fire in the armory. Now Bolg has taken most of the survivors, and abandoned me," her eyes went down to John's hands, which were out to the side to keep Danica back. "If you were able to so easily get out of your bonds, that means the elves helped you…unbelievable,"
"Rachel, please. The orcs only ever wanted to use you. You'll become as much of a loose end as us," Danica pointed out softly.
While she spoke, something nudged John in the back of the leg. Keeping his eyes on Rachel, he very slowly dropped one hand behind him. He felt the hilt of the smaller sword pressed into his palm. Help had arrived.
"I guess it doesn't matter now," Rachel lowered her sword, dark resignation cooling the wildfire that had been in her face. "Now, we decide who gets to leave first, and have a chance of living,"
No other warning was given, but John saw the attack in her eyes. He swung his blade to bat hers away. Shock had her and the orcs hesitating, but then Rachel was screaming at them to kill. Their hesitation, however, had been fatal. One of them howled briefly, then collapsed to the ground. John attempted to make his move on Rachel, but she had recovered, and parried his strike. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the only remaining orc battling with an invisible foe. With a screech, Estellia dove in, claws headed straight for the orc's eyes. Rachel saw none of this. Her intent was clear; move John out of the way so she could kill Danica.
A few Laketown guards came charging in, joining the fray. John tried to yell at them to stop, but they still seemed to believe that Rachel called the shots. As before, she noticed nothing. With the addition of the guards, John became a lot busier. Bilbo remained invisible, and Danica had picked up one of the orc's weapons to defend herself. Estellia helped where she could, but had to dodge blades that were flying through the air. In that moment, John would have given almost anything for a gun. With some maneuvering, he managed to bring most of the fight out into the hallway, where there was more room. That allowed Danica to use the speed she needed to get an advantage. One of the guards turned from her, and engaged John. Instead of remaining to try and finish him off, Rachel instantly turned, and rushed Danica. John switched tactics, throwing in his MMA experience, which took his guard by surprise. Battle cries alerted them all to Thorin and Dwalin's presence.
"About time!" John yelled, pushing the guard's blade aside, and punching him as hard as he could in the jaw. The last thing he wanted to do was kill one of these men. Orcs were one thing, but he would not take a human life again unless absolutely necessary.
"What's the matter Dillinger?" Dwalin joined him, helping with another guard. "Couldn't handle this by yerself?"
A foul reply was on John's lips, but then he saw Rachel disarm Danica, and knock her to the floor. Thorin had also seen, but wouldn't be able to get to her in time. Shoving past his own adversary, John lunged at Rachel, sword poised to slip between the ribs and into the heart. With reflexes like a snake, Rachel spun to face him. He hadn't expected it, and had too much forward momentum to stop himself. Just as he had planned to do with his, her sword went through his ribs. It took his breath, widening his eyes. Pain and shock took control of him, threatening to bring him to his knees. But, behind all that, he heard a scream. The same scream he'd heard in St. Lucia. His eyes found Danica, whose face was filled with pain and horror. It dulled some of his own pain, and reminded him of the purpose he'd given himself. Gritting his teeth, he remained standing, and thrust his sword through Rachel.
Their eyes met, and, for the first time, he truly saw her humanity. Tears cleared the brown of her irises, and showed the depth of her pain, sorrow, and fear. Fear of dying, and facing the consequences for her choices. Choking, she collapsed to the ground. John also fell to his knees, held up by Thorin and Danica, who had rushed to his side. Both blades were still in their victims, which John knew was keeping him alive. For the moment. He couldn't tell if his wound included his heart, but it likely didn't matter. No one could come back from this.
"We have to get some help," he heard Danica say as Thorin eased him down into a more reclined position against him. "There has to be something we can do,"
"There's not much we can do, Lass," Dwalin said somberly. He knelt as well, coming into John's view. Bilbo was there as well, but he went closer to Rachel, eyes full of pity.
"Is she still alive?" John asked, wincing at the sharp pain speaking brought.
Thorin looked over, immense guilt and sorrow on his face. He nodded, then looked back at John. "Not for long,"
John looked at Danica, who was barely concealing sobs. "Go to her," he told her. "Say what you need to. I have a bit more time than her,"
He tried to hold back the cough as blood filled his lungs, wanting to be as convincing as possible. Thankfully, she knew he was right, and moved the couple of feet necessary to be next to Rachel. No one could hear their words, but Danica took Rachel's hand, and brushed her hair back from her face. Despite everything Rachel had done to them, Danica showed such tenderness and forgiveness.
"You shouldn't have done that," Thorin breathed softly, voice gruff. "Danica had a knife in her other hand,"
The chuckle that had been meant came out as a gurgle, then a cough. "This is why a lot of men in my time say women shouldn't be in battle. Our protective instincts take over, and we get stupid,"
"Ye were always stupid," Dwalin countered with a sad smile.
"Takes one to-*cough*- know one," John fired back.
"Aye, ye've got me there,"
Thorin shifted, so John could more comfortably rest on his lap. Not like there was such a thing as comfort in his present condition, but it eased some of the pressure in his chest. He'd seen men with similar injuries, and briefly wondered why his pain and respiration weren't worse. Dwalin, to John's surprise, suddenly took his hand. When Bilbo moved into his view as well, he knew Rachel must have died. Danica came a moment later, taking his other hand. Her face was streaked with tears, and there was some blood on her skin and clothes.
"I'm sorry," John squeezed her hand, knowing there would be nothing he could do to ease her pain. "I had to,"
Her face crumbled for a moment, but then she sniffed, and nodded. "I know. I know. It's ok. We couldn't save her. I…I couldn't save her, and now…God, I can't lose you too. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If it hadn't been for me-"
"Hey, hey," he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "Remember what-*cough*- I said earlier. You are not alone. This-*cough*-was my choice,"
Exhaustion and cold were settling into his bones, calling him to peace and quiet. It was becoming harder and harder to keep his eyes open. Small, sharp pains caused him to focus, and see Estellia on his chest. The golden eyes of the falcon were soft, and warm.
"Don't worry," a voice said in his mind. "When you close your eyes, you'll be sent home. Until then, your suffering will be lessened,"
Home. He wondered if his sister had gotten married to that hippie she'd started seeing. Not a bad guy, as far as hippies went. At least he'd never spat on a soldier. Or cussed at one. Not unless he was drunk, and had lost at poker, anyway. Their parents would have a hard time accepting someone like that for their daughter, but all that mattered was that she be loved and taken care of. He smiled at Estellia, knowing it was her who had spoken. Warm tears, that were not his own, fell on his cheeks, bringing his attention back to Danica.
"Please. Please don't go," she sobbed.
"Dani, meeting you-*cough*- was one of the best things to ever happen to me. I know…I know how much you've lost, and-*cough*- how much pain you've gone through. Promi-promise me, that you will keep moving forward. After all," he wheezed, but then guided her gaze to Thorin. "You've still got this one to take care of,"
Danica let out a pitiful chuckle that sounded more like a whimper, but he could see that her smile was genuine. She would keep his words in her mind and heart, and attempt to keep her head above the waters of grief. He meant to speak more with Thorin, but his strength was rapidly fading, and his lungs were too full to get much sound through. However, Thorin seemed to know exactly what had been in his mind, and gave his shoulder an encouraging pat.
"I'll take care of her," he said. "And thank you,"
He took one more look at all of them as darkness creeped further into the edges of his vision. It was a strange end to his fairly normal life, and though he regretted not seeing the quest through, and not having the chance to say goodbye to his family, it was a grander end than most could hope for. Danica bent down, pressing her warm lips to his forehead, which he realized now had gone cold.
"I'll always remember you, John Dillinger," she whispered. "I love you. Rest easy, now,"
It wasn't the love he'd wanted, but it filled his heart with warmth and peace. With a final smile at those who had become friends and family, he closed his eyes. Pain disappeared with cool darkness, and, eventually, warm light.
P.S. Now I'm going to go ugly cry.