It was Merry who found Frodo. Merry had come to see the newlyweds. But the blood on the boulder next to Bag-end caught his eye before he made it to the door. Alarmed, he looked around. He walked around to the other side of the boulder and found Frodo. He seemed to be delirious, sitting against the rock, numbly sucking on bruised and bloodied knuckles.
"Frodo!" he cried. "Oh, dear Frodo what have you done?" Merry knelt to his side, noting Frodo's bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. He cradled his friend in his arms, asking over and over what had happened.
Frodo continued to nurse his wound, unaffected by Merry's concern. He stared into space, unable to grasp the events of the evening before, desperately seeking a way to sort them out. Merry stood and struggled to lift Frodo into his arms so he could carry him.
"We must get you some help." Merry's voice was strained and he blinked back the tears in an attempt to stay strong for the former ring bearer. This was not the first time. He had seen Frodo like this before. He knew what it meant.
Frodo seemed to come back to life, and struggled in Merry's arms. Merry was so surprised that he dropped his friend. Frodo stood up hurriedly and pleaded with Merry.
"Oh, dear Merry, you mustn't tell anyone of this," he babbled. "Especially Sam. If Sam ever found out he would be utterly heartbroken." Tears were streaming down his cheeks now.
Merry swallowed thickly. He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wrapped Frodo's injured hand. Merry tried hard to ignore the fact that the hand only had four fingers. "This is not the first time you have done this, Frodo," he said. He held both of Frodo's hands within his own and looked to his friend pleadingly. "You must tell Sam. This cannot continue... Pippin and I can keep this a secret for only so long."
Frodo hugged Merry. "Oh, Merry, I am so sorry for burdening you. I will tell Sam, I promise. Just... Not now. Please, Merry. I need more time to find a way to say it."
Merry returned the hug. He had heard this speech before. He was sure now, more than ever, that Frodo was lying. Frodo pulled back, smiling widely at Merry. He wiped away his tears as if none of the morning's events had ever occurred. In Frodo's mind, they hadn't. He had blacked them out already. As far as he was concerned, he was inviting a close friend inside for breakfast.
Frodo let Merry inside and led him to the kitchen. Merry sat at the table, obviously unnerved. This is what he and Pip had come to call Frodo's "jovial" phase. It was how Frodo acted after he had hurt himself. He would pretend as if nothing has happened and he would act more cheerful than usual.
Frodo hummed a happy tune as he set about preparing breakfast. He started to peel some potatoes over the sink basin, making small talk with Merry. Merry played along, although inside he knew that this time Frodo's reason for inflicting pain upon himself was deeper than before. It was evident that he had broken one of his fingers. What's more is that it was a finger on his bad hand. Frodo had especially babied that hand since their return from Mordor. Merry became aware of a presence at the door. The figure yawned loudly and stretched before stepping into the room. Frodo froze for a moment, but continued to peel.
This was his reason for torture. "Good morning, Frodo, Meriadoc," chirped Rose Gamgee. "Lovely morning, isn't it?" Merry nodded smugly, trying to remember that Sam loved her. Rose glided over to the pot, pouring herself a cup of coffee. Both Merry and Frodo noticed she was wearing Sam's bathrobe. It didn't seem like she was wearing much else. Frodo fixed his eyes on the potato, peeling much more forcefully. Rosie took a long gulp of coffee and stretched again. "Did you sleep nicely, Frodo?" she asked.
Frodo seemed to jump at the question and gave a yelp. His hand had slipped and the potato was now in the basin. At the sight of blood, Merry and Rose rushed to Frodo's side. Merry cradled Frodo's hand, pressing his napkin to the wound. Frodo had chopped off a nice portion of the top of his broken finger. He grimaced at the touch of the linen and gave Merry an apologetic look.
"You should be more careful, Frodo," Rosie chided. "Pretty soon you aren't going to have any fingers at all!" She laughed at her joke. Frodo did not.

'.~*~.'