Author's note: I'm very grateful for those who reviewed and have been enjoying this story so far. As always, constructive feedback is welcomed and very important to me because I want to know what you like and don't like about the story. Ok, without further ado, here's chapter two!

Rating: PG-13 for some disturbing content


Sam sprang from his pillow, gasping in the darkness. He was back in the room, back to Bag End. It was just a dream. But then why did he still hear the screams? No, they weren't screams from the beast. As Sam drifted more and more into reality, the screams were clear now.

He flung the covers off of him and cried, "Mr. Frodo!"


Chapter two: Come back, Mr. Frodo

Sam, carrying the lantern, stumbled toward Frodo's door and when he stormed inside, his master wasn't in bed. On the other side of the room, a terrified Frodo huddled himself in the corner.

Sam recognized Frodo's expression…the one that scowled at him when the ring had taken possession over his master. He set the lantern onto the desk. Carefully, Sam inched toward Frodo.

"Mr. Frodo?" said Sam, extending his hand to reassure his friend that he was there to comfort him. "It's all right. You just had another one of those dreams."

Candlelight from the lantern fell eerily onto Frodo's gaunt face. His brilliant blue eyes were revealed, wide and glaring back at Sam like a madman. The collar of his nightshirt was open just enough to see the chain around his neck, and the white gem that glittered in the light.

"He's here!" Frodo screamed, grasping the chain his right hand.

Puzzled, Sam scrunched his brows. "Who's here?"

"I hear his voice, and he can see me, Sam."

The gardener remembered what Frodo was talking about…Sauron.

Sam edged closer. "Mr. Frodo, he's gone. After the ring was destroyed, he was destroyed with it. He can't hurt you anymore."

Sam reached out for him, but Frodo jerked away.

He growled, "You're lying!"

"No, I'm not lying. He's gone. It's over, now."

Slowly, Frodo stood from the floor, sliding up against the wall. He kept wary eyes on Sam as he crept along the wall.

Sam made sure he didn't let Frodo out of his sight, watching him like a parent would do to a child sneaking off to do something malicious.

"Mr. Frodo, come now, you need to get back to bed."

Frodo continued to slide away from him. His face was glossed with sweat and his breathing…

Shallow.

Erratic.

Frodo's eyes locked on to something and when he ran across the room, he grasped it—the lantern. He held it up. Candlelight disclosed the hatred that twisted his facial features.

"Mr—Mr. Frodo," Sam stuttered nervously. "What are you doing?"

"Why didn't you let me fall in the lava?" Frodo shouted, his voice laced with anger. "I should have joined Smeagol! I don't deserve to be here, Sam." Frodo looked up at the flame inside the lantern and then he gazed at Sam again with a menacing glint in his eyes. "Sam, you know what would happen if I drop this?"

Horrified at the thought of what Frodo wanted to do, Sam frantically shook his head.

"No. No!"

Frodo taunted Sam with a mischievous grin. "It must be done."

Trembling, Sam watched Frodo's fingers slipping one by one off the handle.

Frodo released it…

Falling.

Sam lunged toward the lantern. His heart raced along with him, for he knew if he didn't catch it, Frodo would go up in flames with everything else inside the room. He leaped, shoving Frodo out of the way. And before the lantern had the chance to shatter against the floor, Sam cushioned it in the palm of his hands. He slipped, plummeting onto the floor, but managed to keep the lantern safe.

Sam couldn't believe what he had done, amazed and frightened all at once while he held the lantern. A few traces of sweat oozed down from under the bangs of his golden hair. He wet his dry lips. Cautious, Sam stood with the lantern while the frenetic beating of his heart pulsated through his veins. He gently placed the lantern back onto the desk. And when Sam turned around, Frodo grabbed the collar of his nightshirt.

"Why?" Frodo screamed into Sam's face. "Why did you stop me?"

"Because…" Sam hesitated and frowned. "I can't let you destroy yourself."

Frodo leaned closer, glaring into his eyes. "Why?"

Sam wanted to answer the question, but he only nodded as the tears welled in his eyes.

Frodo shivered. Boiling anger faded from his face. "Oh, Sam, what's happening?" Frightened, his fingers clenched the fabric of Sam's nightshirt. "What's wrong with me?"

Sam grabbed Frodo in his arms and held him tightly. That's all he could do but just hold him as they cried together.


Don't forget the shire…what it's like. It's spring now, Mr. Frodo. It's…

Sam squeezed his eyes that burned from the persistent tears. Because of the pain, the conversation in his mind had been silenced. He opened his eyes again and after smearing the sticky liquid from off his cheeks, Sam gazed at Frodo sleeping under the covers. He tried to fight the memories before the Quest, but like his tears, they were persistent…

Planting flowers in Bilbo's garden, and when Sam looked up, there was Frodo in the window, smiling down at him. His face always glowed with a child-like innocence, a hobbit unscarred.

Sam, Frodo, Merry and Pippin…having fun at the Green Dragon, eating, drinking, smoking their pipes, frolicking together with the folk.

Bilbo's birthday party…oh the fun they had that night…

Flustered, Sam bolted away from the bed. He grabbed the lantern, breezed toward the door and braked in his tracks. He wanted to turn around, stay with Frodo and made sure he was there in case the terrors woke him again. Instead, Sam swallowed a deep breath and closed the door behind him.


24, March 3020

I thought I wrote enough today, but I can't keep this to myself, what I mean is what happened tonight. I might as well tell you. I have those night terrors, too. It comes to me like it does Frodo, only, it's worse for him. I woke from my dream and heard him screaming. I ran to him. His mind is so tortured. And though that blasted ring is destroyed, in his mind, it's still alive. Each day, I feel he's slipping away from me and from everyone. During the Quest, I was always frightened for him, even more now. He took the lantern and wanted to destroy himself with the fire. What if I didn't stop him? Well, I did. But for the moment, I saw anger in his eyes because of what I did, because I care, but it's more than just that. He asked me why I stopped him. I wanted to tell him that I…I love him. And it's my love for him that kept me by his side during the Quest, and even now.

Sam closed his journal. Exhausted emotionally and physically, he rested his face onto the cool cover of the burgundy book. He entwined his arms around him, as if he was cold. But it wasn't from any chill. Sam cradled his body, soothing himself while he stared at the lantern and at the way the flames danced. He remembered what Frodo said about Smeagol…

"I have to believe he can come back."

And then Sam whispered aloud, "Mr. Frodo, I have to believe you can come back."


The rays of the mid-day sun had found Frodo, immersing him within its warm glow. He stood against the dresser. His arms were crossed tensely against his chest and he looked out into the space of his bedroom as if in deep thought. He was immaculately dressed in his usual attire: Billowy shirt, vest and breeches with suspenders. Sunlight exposed his pale face and dark circles beneath his eyes, but he couldn't let his appearance stop him from going out. Frodo's sorrowful eyes roved to the window. He knew where Sam was.

Sam tended the garden outside Bag End. It pleased him to see that the seeds he planted had bloomed into a beautiful array of rainbow-colored flowers. On his knees, he buried a few more seeds under the dirt. He stopped, sensing someone was watching him.

Sam looked up. "Mr. Frodo?" He said quizzically to his master standing at the door.

"The garden," Frodo commented with a tender smile. "It's beautiful. I haven't forgotten that, Sam."

Sam stood and climbed up the steps to greet him. Before he could answer, Frodo interrupted.

"Let's take a walk."

Sam looked down at his gritty hands. "I have to clean up first."

"I'll wait here."

Frodo sat down on the steps while Sam had gone inside.

The woods…this time, it was a pleasant walk, not like before when Sam searched for Frodo. They strolled under many trees with fresh, green leaves of early spring. Silence wedged between them as they journeyed on, and while birds fluttered above, performing their harmonious concertos.

And then the silence was broken.

"We'll stop here, Sam."

Frodo took a break near his favorite tree. He leaned his forehead against it.

Sam sat down against the tree and breathed in the sweet aroma of fresh grass. When he looked up, he saw Frodo, his forehead pressed into wood and staring at him.

Frodo uttered, "I need to talk about last night."

"Mr. Frodo, don't worry about it, I--,"

"No, Sam. I need to do this. Don't stop me from telling you how I feel."

Sam nodded, agreeing with him. "I'm sorry."

Frodo turned and rested the back of his head against the tree. He stared at the sun. Brilliant fragments of its rays shimmered like jewels between the leaves.

Frodo drew in a deep breath and then he continued.

"Last night…I still don't understand it. And I'm ashamed. But, it's not the only thing I'm ashamed of." He raised his right hand for Sam to see—the hand with four fingers. "It doesn't bother you, or Merry and Pippin. The others, I'm not sure. Sometimes I see their stares, whether I'm at the Green Dragon or walking about. Maybe I'm just imagining it. I want to think I am. I really want to, Sam."

Defensive of his master, Sam bellowed, "Who cares what the folk think! You're not different because of what happened to your hand."

Frodo ignored him and went on. "Middle-earth is saved. I did what I set out to do." He shook his head, blinking back the tears. "No."

Astonished at what he heard, Sam grimaced. "What are you talking about?"

Frodo sank onto his knees in front of Sam. "I failed, and you know it's the truth! I claimed the ring to be my own. I tried and couldn't resist it any longer. It terrifies me to even think of what would have happened if Smeagol didn't come along, like you said!"

"Stop it!" Sam cried. "Stop it! I don't wanna hear you talk like that. You carried such a burden that not even I could have carried. You have to understand that, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo sadly nodded. "I know it was a burden, but I still feel like I've failed."

He tugged at the chain around his neck.

"I can't take it off, Sam. Even now, I wish I had the ring. This chain is the only thing I have that reminds me of it. And so, I'm ashamed of what I feel…what I've become. My soul will forever be tainted by the mark I bear from the Nazgul blade. The pain will never leave. The dreams will continue to haunt me. Am I not a burden to you, Samwise?"

"No!" The gardener insisted.

Frodo stared intently into Sam's eyes. "I shall ask you again, why? Why do you want to be my friend, even after everything that has happened? What I still desire, though I cannot have it. It doesn't shame you to be with me?"

Sam's gaze dropped to the ground. Slowly, endearingly, his eyes climbed up Frodo's vest and locked onto his master's face.

His voice quivered. "No. I'm not shamed of you. I--,"

Sam couldn't finish what he wanted to say. Instead, his face caved into his hands.

For the first time since knowing Sam, Frodo could not utter the words that were trapped in his mind. And not only were the words frozen, his entire body froze as well. He stared in disbelief at his devoted gardener spilling out choking sobs into his hands.

Frodo peeled Sam's hands away from his tear-soaked face. And then he embraced him close to his lean body. Frodo gently laid the right side of his face against Sam's cheek.

He closed his eyes and whispered in his ear, "I know, Sam. I know.

But you have to move on. You can't be torn in two."

Sam squeezed his arms around Frodo's thin form. He vigorously shook his head.

Frodo tightened his grip to calm Sam down. Again, he whispered…

"We'll go to the Green Dragon tonight. We'll have fun, and you'll see Rosie."

They rocked together in a soothing rhythm.

"Okay, Sam? That's what we'll do."

He felt Sam's head nod against his face.

Frodo smiled and they remained there for a while under the canopy of trees that swayed in the warm, gentle breeze.


As the sun left hobbiton, leaving a dazzling display of sherbet twilight across the sky, three swift knocks rapped at Frodo's door. When Frodo opened the circle, it didn't surprise him to see Pippin standing there with a perky smile stretching across his lips. There standing beside him was Merry who also greeted him with a wide grin.

Pippin said, "It's been a long time since you've been to the Green Dragon, hasn't it Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo smiled. "Yes, it has."

They all broke out into laughter and pulled each other into a hearty hug. While they held onto each other, Merry turned to see Sam moping up to them.

"Master Samwise, you're coming with us too?"

He nodded.

And then they drew him into their hug.

Frodo watched them and knew Pippin and Merry were ecstatic to see them all together again…like old times.


Inside the Green Dragon, the four hobbits sat at their usual table, laughing and enjoying their ale. Sam peeked every moment or so at Frodo. He was good at hiding what he felt around others, but Sam knew better. He sensed Frodo was only forcing himself to have fun with him and his cousins. Then his eyes darted over to Rosie at the bar. She looked beautiful tonight. Powder blue ribbons ornamented ruffled cuffs of her short sleeves. An apron, the same color as her ribbons, flowed delicately along her white dress. This time, he boldly left the table, weaved through the crowd and sat down at the bar.

Sam flattered her with one of his shy smiles. "Hi, Rosie."

Rosie's eyes brightened, and she didn't care to hide the fact that she was happy to see him.

"Sam!"

"I'm sorry I didn't ask you to dance the last time I was here. Well, I was wondering if you…"

Before he could finish his invitation, she graciously extended her hand.

Thrilled, Sam took her hand and guided her out into the middle of the bar where they danced.

Frodo watched the way they danced…so happy together. It was the only time he felt joy, to see Sam happy.

After what seemed like a few hours had passed, Frodo stood from the table.

"Well," he said to Merry and Pippin, "I've been here long enough."

Merry replied, "Leaving already?"

"I'm tired and I need to rest."

Pippin placed his hand on Frodo's left shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"We're happy you came out with us."

Sam twirled Rosie around in his arms. His face beamed. And when he spun around toward the table where he sat moments before, the grin shrank from his lips. Frodo was leaving by himself.

He's alone. He can't be alone!

While Frodo walked past them, it seemed to Sam, time slowed down for just a second to see his master smiling back at him. The smile that told him it would be okay. Sam didn't have to be with him on his journey back home.

And Frodo's smile also told him something else…

It's okay. I know you love her.

Sam smiled back at Frodo, watching him until he left.

He returned his attention back to Rosie and continued the dance.


"You know what happens when you drink too much," An annoyed Sam said to Pippin while they headed to Bag End.

Pippin giggled and threw his arms around Sam and Merry.

"Just having fun," Pippin answered in a giddy voice. "No shame in that, ain't that right, Merry?"

"Whoa!!!" Merry exclaimed as he and Sam were being tugged to the left and right.

Sam grumbled silently, thinking they would never reach Bag End at this rate.

With Merry's help, he straightened Pippin in his grasp.

"It's getting late, Pippin," Sam told him. "Come on, we have to move along now."

Finally they reached Frodo's home. Sam noticed a light was on inside the living room. Frodo was that way, courteous and looking out for Sam if he happened to be out late. He didn't want him to walk into darkness.

They stopped at the gate.

Sam shook his head at Pippin and then he shot a glance at Merry.

"You better not lose him." He joked.

Pippin stumbled again and grinned. "Sam, Rosie will make a good wife she will."

Now Merry was annoyed and straightened him up. "Come on, Pip."

Sam smiled while watching them stagger away from the gate, and then he turned toward the house. When he entered the living room, he stepped into silence. He wondered if Frodo was sleeping or reading. After he undressed into his nightshirt, Sam knocked twice on Frodo's door.

"Come in, Sam."

He opened the door and peeked inside to see Frodo in bed, propped against the pillow.

Sam acknowledged Frodo's welcome with a warm smile and when he ambled toward the bed, he sat beside him.

"I was happy to see you with Rosie."

Sam wavered, but then he felt he should tell him.

"I asked her to marry me."

Ecstatic, Frodo's eyes beamed. "Sam, I'm happy for you! So, when is the wedding?"

"We decided on waiting till May."

"Sam, my dear Sam. You deserve Rosie. You deserve to be happy."

"I want you to be happy, too, Mr. Frodo."

His master shifted down under the covers and sank his head deep into the fluffy pillow.

"Don't concern yourself about me." Frodo's eyes closed a little. Sleep arrived for him. "All that matters to me now is your happiness…"

Sam opened his mouth, but when he saw Frodo drifted off to sleep, he smiled instead and blew out the candlelight.


25, March 3020

Today, Mr. Frodo and I talked in the woods. I hate what the memories are doing to him; the guilt and shame he feels. He just needs time and he'll be okay again. When we talked, I wanted to tell him that I love him. But I didn't have to. He knows. I finally told Rosie how much I love her and we're getting married. I don't understand it, why don't I feel right telling Mr. Frodo I want to marry her? He's happy for me and yet, I feel I've betrayed him...


In the middle of the night, Frodo's eyes jarred open.

The window.

Something was out there.

Frightened, he scrambled out of bed and crawled over to the window. He tried desperately to fight it, but it lured him, called to him. Frodo peeked through the window.

He saw it…

The Black Rider.

It waited outside the house. Stalking. Wanting him.

Frodo looked away and collapsed onto the floor. He clutched the mark under his left shoulder. The pain he remembered so vividly, as if the blade pierced his flesh again and again. Frodo screamed. He tried not to, for he knew Sam would be at the door any minute.

"Mr. Frodo!" he heard outside the door.

Panting, Frodo yelled, "I'm fine, Sam. Please, go to sleep."

He listened to Sam's footsteps until they faded away from the door.

Shivering, Frodo peered out the window again. The Black Rider was gone.

Realizing it was just a memory he tucked himself into a fetal position and cried.

TBC