The forest was very dark and cold. The very trees seemed to close in about him. Raising their roots in his path to trip him as he ran. His feet burned with the cold, and he could feel the blood from his scraped knees trickling down his legs. Running as fast as he could through the blinding darkness, his lungs burning terribly with the effort. He tripped again, trying in vain to throw his arms out to protect his face. Burning sensation above his left eye. More blood.

He stumbled to his feet once more, turning round and round. He was lost. He had to find them. He had to. He never should have let this happen. He should have been there. It was all his fault. Now he was about to lose everything.

A shrill scream, filled with pain, pierced the deafening silence. His heart sank and he felt the metallic taste of bile rising up his throat. He was failing once more. All hope rested with him, and he was lost in the darkness. The scream sounded again, chilling him to his bones and causing every hair to stand on end. He was crying.

"Sam! I'm coming, Sam!"

He stood still, listening with every fiber of his being. No sound. No breath. The darkness had swallowed everything once more. Maybe he was too late. No. He couldn't lose now. He wouldn't. They'd come so far. His reason for living was lost somewhere out there, and he was just going to have to search harder.

Breaking into a run once more, allowing his frightened sobs to speed him faster. Branches whipped his face and salty sweat dripped slowing into his eyes. His whole world was coming crashing down around him. He was going to lose the only person he'd ever truly loved. He felt powerless suddenly. If only he'd brought a lantern. Though perhaps even that light wouldn't have helped him now. He seemed destined to live his life in darkness and despair. Hadn't he always done so?

The same voice cried out once more. The strength it had possessed minutes earlier was missing. It was more of an animalistic moan of pain. An icy chill ran down his spine and his mind began to race. It sounded like the last breath of life escaping the poor soul.

He could feel his heart freeze within his chest as he ran faster, taxing himself to his limits. Death hung in the very air, like a strangling fog. His determination strengthened more. He would beat death yet another time.

"Hold on, Sam! Hold on, I'm coming!" He chanted to himself as he ran. He knew he must hurry now. Listening as hard as he could, he ran full tilt towards the sound. What was it he was hearing?

Ragged breathing! Faint, but still there. He hadn't lost yet. Not yet. There was still hope left. Sam lived.

Another panicked scream split through the stillness like a sharp knife. He tripped again as it sounded. Falling to the ground, which seemed to be covered in something thick and warm. Blood? He blinked back tears, and groped through the darkness, searching for the source.

Seconds seemed like minutes, minutes like hours as he crouched on the ground to search. At least his eyes seemed to be adjusting somewhat to the darkness as time passed. Perhaps the darkness was lifting.

He followed the sound of ragged short breaths until his hand finally touched cold, clammy skin. At that instant, his vision cleared, and his breath caught painfully in his throat. The sight before him was an awful one, and he feared he might break into tears all too soon.

Sam lay on the ground, curled protectively around the mound that housed their unborn child. He was so pale his skin seemed the color of ashes. His eyes were closed tight and he wore an expression of excruciating pain upon his weary face. The ground was covered in a spreading pool of his blood.

"Sam-dear! I'm here, I've come. I shall never leave you again!" He promised in vain, lifting Sam into his lap and rocking him softly.

Another scream left Sam's lips as his body was rocked with yet another painful contraction, followed closely behind by still another. Sam collapsed limply afterwards. His pain-blinded eyes seeming to roll back in his head.

"Frodo ... I'm ... sorry ... "Sam sighed softly as the fight for his life drew to an end. Death had won out, after all, and he lay limp in Frodo's arms.

"Sam! No!!! Sam! You cannot be gone! You can't!" His eyes unfocused with the painful tears of his loss. How could he go on without Sam? Sam was his strength, his hope.

Minutes passed as he held tightly to the lifeless body of his love. Shaking all over with the shock. Finally his thoughts turned to the child. He knew he had to hurry, that there wasn't much time. Perhaps the baby could be saved when Sam could not.

Looking around, he saw a knife on the grass nearby. How had that gotten there? No matter. He grabbed it, and turned whispering his apologies for having to mutilate Sam's body further, he cut into the swollen belly.

Holding his breath, and trying not to think of the blood that spilled out and gathered at his knees, he reached for the child inside. He pulled it gently into the light, only to find there was no hope. Sometime during the long labor, the life-cord had wrapped around the child's neck, strangling it. The babe was already blue with lifelessness.

Placing their son in Sam's dead arms gently, he screamed and pounded the ground. It was just so unfair. How was he to survive yet another loss of a loved one? He couldn't go on. He'd lost everything that mattered, and his life was no more.

Frodo woke with a scream, and jumped out of bed. He rushed as quickly as he could around to the other side, and grasped Sam's shoulders tightly and shook him awake violently.

"What? What?!?" Sam's worried but sleepy voice demanded as he opened his eyes.

"Oh Sam!" Frodo cried and hugged his lover harder than he'd ever done before. "You're safe! You're safe, and you're here! I'm never going to let you out of my sight, that I promise. I'll never let that happen to you. Never." He let out a pained and scared sob.

Sam felt very confused. He had no idea what had just happened, but he contented himself that Frodo would tell him when he was ready. Pulling Frodo onto the bed, he took his hand, and placed it on his tightly stretched belly.

"Everything's fine, love." He reassured Frodo, and hoped it was true.