Sam could not bare this. He walked forward, looking down at Pippin, lying motionless on the bed, who he had so often reprimanded for doing silly, childish things. But he was still a child, Sam realized then, in the prime of his youth. Far too young to die.

"Please, Master Pippin, we need you," he whispered, walking to Merry and placing a hand on his shoulder. Frodo was silent, tears once again streaming across his pale cheeks. The three hobbits silently knelt around Pippin's bed, all resigned to the fact that they had lost him. Sam cried quietly, remembering the time he had caught Pippin raiding Bilbo's pantry. Around him were twelve jars of jam, all which before had been un-opened. He held a large wooden spoon in his hand, and a loaf of bread Sam knew for a fact had been set on the Cotton's windowsill to cool not twenty minutes before. The look on that Took's face when Sam Gamgee came in! Sam grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, and demanded that he go apologize to the Cotton's, and to Mr. Bilbo for eating so much of his jam. Pippin felt so terrible, that he tried to bake Sam some chocolate chip biscuits. That was, of course, a complete disaster, and Pippin tried to hide them from Sam. But Sam came into the kitchen after the fiasco, and was touched by the sentiment, none the less.

Merry continued to stroke Pippin's lifeless hand, remembering the same incident. He was in fact the one who had swiped the bread from the windowsill, and Pippin blackmailed him, saying he'd tell unless he gave it to him. Mrs. Cotton was known for making the best bread in the Shire, after all. Merry had no choice but to comply. But Merry may have played a part in Pippin's incrimination. He conveniently asked Sam to fetch him some tealeaves from the pantry only a few moments after the altercation. He felt so guilty about seeing Pippin feel so guilty, though, that he suggested Pippin do something nice for Sam, hence the biscuit incident.

And coincidentally, as Frodo felt this enormous loss beginning to take hold, he remembered the very same occasion. He had found Pippin in the kitchen, sitting at the table, head down, a plate full of scalded biscuits in front of him. Frodo tried to console Pippin, but he believed himself a failure, and was horribly embarrassed. Frodo knew Sam would appreciate the effort, and after leaving Pip to clean the kitchen, he sent Sam in under the pretext of checking and seeing if any dishes needed doing.

The three of them could barely contain their grief, and began sobbing. They were blubbering so loudly, they barely heard the small gasp coming from the bed. But Merry felt a warmth flowing back into the hand he was still holding, and looking up, he saw Pippin's eyes trying to open.

"Pippin!" he cried, standing then sitting on the side of the bed. Frodo and Sam's heads snapped up, looking at the supposedly dead Pippin, flailing and coughing on the bed.

"Get him some water, Sam!" Frodo demanded. Sam nodded, glad that he would finally have something constructive to do. Pippin continued to gasp, Merry wiping the sweat off of Pip's forehead with a small cloth that had been on the bedside table. Frodo was trying to still Pippin's heaving body. Sam returned, handing the glass to Merry. Frodo held Pippin down, while Merry gently poured some water down Pippin's throat. At first he sputtered, coughing even worse. But slowly he realized the less he struggled, the easier the water went down. After five minutes of slowly letting water pour down his throat, Pippin attempted to speak.

"I…"his voice was hoarse.

"Don't talk if it hurts, Pip," Merry whispered, situating Pippin's curls to behind either ear. Pippin shook his head, the young lad's stubbornness shining through, even as he had lain dead before them mere minutes ago.

"I thought I…echgem," Pippin cleared his throat, then continued. "I thought I was dead," his said quietly, the fear still in his eyes.

"So did we," Merry said, kissing his forehead.

"I'm tired, Merry. I want to rest," Pippin said, turning on his side and closing his eyes. Tears were spilling from Merry's eyes, but now they were of joy. He had his Pippin back. He crawled into the bed with his baby cousin, and kissing him once more on the forehead, he closed his eyes to join Pip in his slumber.

"I think I just might do the same, if it's all the same to you, Frodo," Sam said, standing and stretching.

"Yes, go on Sam. I'll be in in a minute." Frodo walked out of the room, and headed towards Bilbo's study once again. He slowly crept in, trying not to look at any of the shelves, should he be overcome again. He quickly grabbed the pipe, and fled as if the very maw of Melkor was behind him, waiting to chomp him up. He brought the pipe into another of the seldomly used rooms in Bag End, and found a small, beautiful sheet of purple satin, just the right size for wrapping the pipe. He wrapped the pipe up, and carried it back to his room. When he came inside, he saw Sam lying down on the bed, his eyes closed. As Frodo quietly closed the door, Sam's eyes popped open.

"What's that?" he asked groggily, now getting under the covers.

"A gift," Frodo said happily, handing it to him and sitting down on the bed.

"For me?" Sam asked. "But, Frodo it isn't your birthday," he said, confused.

"I know, it's just…for being you. Open it! Go on!" Frodo urged. Sam slowly unwrapped the small sheet of fabric, and saw the elegant pipe. He hardly knew what to say.

"Frodo, this is…amazing, I couldn't take this!"

"I demand that you do, Samwise," Frodo said. He knew Sam loved the elves, and this pipe had clearly been made by one.

"Was it Mr. Bilbo's?" he asked, turning it over and over in his hands, as if he expected it to instantly vaporize, held in what Sam viewed as unworthy hands.

"Yes. And I know he'd want you to have it."

"Thank you, Frodo. It's beautiful."

"You're beautiful Samwise," Frodo whispered, leaning forward and placing his head on Sam's shoulder. Sam put a strong arm around Frodo.

"I'm going to protect you, Frodo."

"From what, Sam?"

"Anything."

The two hobbits got underneath the covers, and delicately spooned, Frodo on the inside. Sam nuzzled his nose into the back of Frodo's head. Frodo grasped Sam's hand. Early to bed, yes, but today had been one of the most hectic either hobbit had ever seen. They both slowly fell asleep, thankful for Pippin's safety, the love that surrounded them, and the security of a lover's arms.

TBC perhaps? Review if you'd like more.