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The little niche in the subway was the Fellowship's base camp for the next couple weeks while they recovered from their wounds. Legolas was the one who usually stayed in the general vicinity while a small group of his friends went to the surface through a nearby station to retrieve necessities. When he was forced to sit still, the near-silence almost drove him crazy.

"Stop fidgeting, Legolas!" scolded Gandalf. He was trying to unbind the Elf's leg but he was refusing to be still for more than a few seconds.

"I can't!" cried Legolas with a tone of childlike impatience. "I want to run, Gandalf. Can I run, please? Please, Gandalf? Please, please, please?"

"Only once we see that your bandages are properly off and -- stay still, you impetuous Elf! -- and we see that you can walk without hurting yourself again. Only then will I allow you to run."

Legolas stayed as still as he could while the white bandages fell from his leg. As soon as all the gauze was off, he jumped up and did a quick sprint from one side of the tunnel to the other and back. With a huge grin, he slid and sat cross-legged in front of Gandalf.

Gandalf gave him a reprimanding glare and ordered the young Elf to let him check the wound area. He rolled his eyes, stretched out his leg and let Gandalf inspect the wound through the tear of his pant leg.

In a matter of weeks, the wound had completely healed. All that was left was a large, pale scar that was barely visible. The leg muscles were working as well as they were before they were torn. It was obvious that, despite his reincarnation and vast time difference, Legolas still possessed enough Elvish blood and spirit in him to heal that much quicker than other mortals.

"Can I go now, sir?" said Legolas, adopting his previous mannerism of a student in Gandalf's high school class.

"Yes, yes," sighed the elderly wizard, "you may go, Mr. Grayfield." He got up with Legolas' help and took his staff in hand. "Just one more thing."

"Hmm? What's that?"

Gandalf sharply brought his staff down and rapped Legolas over the head. "Learn to control yourself, young Legolas! You should know by now not to disobey a teacher, especially a history teacher."

"Yes, sir," Legolas said obediently while he rubbed his head.

Gimli, who was taking a small nap and was woken up by Legolas' restlessness, jumped onto his friend's back, sending him tottering forward. Not just because his quiver, bow, knives and recovered cloak were in the way, Legolas had a hard time keeping the Dwarf on his back.

"God, Gimli! You weigh a ton!" With that, he threw the Dwarf over his shoulder.

In the light of Legolas' complete recovery, the whole Fellowship continued on their way through the dark tunnels. Once again, they were following the light of Gandalf's staff. They passed many stations, all filled with crumbling rocks, broken platforms and twisted pieces of metal and debris.

They slowly made their way through the cracked subway towards the Darkness. Because they wanted the element of surprise, the Fellowship took their time in their trek through the tunnels. Whenever they met with Dark creatures, they would more often hide rather than to stand and fight. Each sound in the tunnels would echo for several stations and decrease their chance of taking the heart of Darkness by surprise.

"This is strange," Aragorn said quietly one day.

"Aside from the fact that you're talking to a wall?" cracked Pippin. Gimli, who was nearby, chuckled. The Fellowship was settled for a break.

Aragorn scowled at him. "If I had something to throw at you without hurting you, I would, Pip."

"That's always nice to know," he replied cheerfully.

"Anyway," continued Aragorn with a small grin, "what's strange is that these marks, from what I've seen, are completely opposite from what was the usual. It's heading the same direction as we are going."

"The same direction as we're going?" echoed Gimli. "You mean we passed it?"

"Apparently."

"But we haven't passed anything but solid rock," said Pippin.

"Exactly."

"So we have to go back through the tunnels where that bloody station is? That station's fucking creepy! Scares the shit out of me just by passing by. Do we really have to go back there?"

"Consequently."

"You're mean, Aragorn."

"Obviously!"

Aragorn smirked and went to the rest of the Fellowship with his observations on the tunnels. Upon his report, to Pippin's dismay, they started backtracking to the station. Along the way, several members tried to comfort the little Hobbit's nerves.

"Peace yourself, Pippin," said Gandalf, "we may only have to pass that station. We might not have to stay there for more than a few minutes."

"And," Sam said amiably, "if you want to, we'll go ahead first to show you that there's nothing to be scared of in there."

"If all else doesn't comfort you, we can always chase you at a sprint across the station," Merry said.

"I think I like the idea of sprinting across," moaned Pippin.

As they approached the station they had passed, the familiar stench of decomposed and decaying flesh met their noses. It was strange to them to notice a new body sprawled upon a pile of corpses on the platform. A fresh trickle of blood slowly crept its way across the bloodstained stone, over previous paths of blood and between the flesh of other bodies. Gandalf and Aragorn carefully made their way to the new body to inspect it.

When Pippin crossed the threshold of the station, he felt like he was drenched in the blood of the corpses. He gave an involuntary, visible shudder, which Merry was quick to notice.

"Pip?" he asked warily. He put a hand on Pippin's shoulder. "Are you doing okay?"

This time, Pippin's dread traveled to Merry through another shudder. Pippin innocently, and perhaps unconsciously, leaned closer towards his older cousin in fear.

"I'm scared, Merry," he whispered. The biggest difference that set him apart from the others was very evident as he looked into the station. His childlike innocence and pure of heart was showing through.

Merry smiled warmly at his dear cousin. "Come on, Pip." He let him cling fearfully on his arm and, like in ancient times, guided him through his fears.

Up on the platform, Gandalf finished his assessment of the fresh corpse. "It's still warm. I doubt it's been dead for more than a couple hours."

Aragorn gently touched the huge, gaping hole at the base of the human's head. Streaks of red and bruised skin spread out from the wound. He counted a total of four wild streaks, all around the neck. "This man was a Host. The Parasite may still be around."

"You mean this?"

Aragorn was taken aback at the sight of the last weak flails of the Parasite impaled at the very end of Sting. Frodo had subtly brought it under the Man's face and stared at Aragorn with large, waiting eyes.

"Holy shit, Frodo... take that thing out of my face! But, yes," he said in a gentler tone, "that's the one."

"The Parasite's teeth must be exceptionally strong," Gandalf said in a hushed voice. "They drilled right through the base of the skull." He inspected the wound more carefully, making the hole as large as possible to peer in. "The brain looks almost in liquid state. That might be what the Parasite feeds on last before disconnecting itself from its host."

They flipped the body on its back to see its face. If it were somebody they had once known, they wouldn't be able to tell because of the distortions and disfigurations of its face. Its face was pulled into a grotesque expression because many muscles had tensed up but others hadn't. The veins that usually webbed across the face were horribly visible and bulged angrily under the skin. Many of the veins had burst and some were still slowly leaking blood.

"A Parasite's finishing move," said Aragorn, "liquefy the Host's brain, drink the fluids from the wound, move on to the next victim. The secretion it injects must cause muscle tension. The face gets it the most because that's where the circulation goes before the heart stops."

Frodo, with his Parasite-on-a-sword still in hand, grimaced and touched the base of his skull when he imagined what he would feel if a live Parasite had gotten him.

"Uh, Mister Frodo? Gandalf, sir?" Sam came by, the Horn of Gondor fastened securely to him. He had a very anxious face as he approached.

"Yes, Sam?" Frodo said curiously. "What is it?"

"Pippin found something," he replied carefully, "something important." He made his way back to the other platform to the rest of the Fellowship with Frodo, Gandalf and Aragorn following.

Gimli was grumbling with fervent disbelief beside Legolas. Both were standing by the two Hobbits, Merry and Pippin, and facing the blank wall in a corner. The Hobbits, who were usually in motion and enthusiastic, were oddly quiet and still.

Pippin was especially peculiar. He was standing as still as a statue with his arms crossed like he was trying to keep himself from falling apart. His eyes, which normally held curiosity and liveliness, now had fear and a sense of dark knowledge. Instead of being panicky and frightened, he looked set and his spirit would not waver. Merry was next to him, gripping his lance tightly and with the same kind of determination.

Legolas nodded in welcome to the coming members as Gimli simply grunted to show he noticed them before resuming his grumbling.

"What has happened?" Gandalf asked.

"It's right here," Pippin said, eyes never leaving the wall. "The Darkness is here."

"How can the Darkness be here?" Gimli said gruffly. "All that we're looking at is a blank wall with a few cracks in it."

On their own accord, Merry's eyes began to be unfocused. He could still see the wall, but it was blurry and faded, like a photograph that was taken with improper lens. It started to mutate like a piece of melting plastic. Slow, moving lumps shifted around the wall, giving it a bubbling look.

Merry tried to blink or make his eyes focus to stop the wall from moving so eerily but failed. He saw fingertips clawing out from the wall as if they were desperate to leave. More fingertips belonging to ever more hands started to try and scratch their way out through the seemingly solid rock. Pained faces started appearing in the wall like it was a piece of supple plastic. More and more came and with them echoed screams and distant screams.

One hand stretched itself so far that it burst out from the wall, dragging the rest of its ghostly specter out. The skin was ragged and torn like it had been decaying for a long time. What wasn't mutilated was stretched tightly over the bone as if there was no muscle. The face was nothing more than a skull with a thin layer of skin stretched desperately over it. Its gaping eyes were wide open in eternal hopelessness and fear. Its mouth was wide in a permanent state of screaming.

As it rushed towards Merry, he heard its ghostly shriek become louder and louder until it echoed around him. Out of fear, bravery or shock, he stood still and let it pass through him. Immediately, the wall came back to focus and became flat and dull once more.

"It's definitely here," he said, more calmly than he felt. "There's no doubt about that."

"A peculiar presence exists within that wall," Legolas said quietly with his eyes intensely focused on the stone. "Beyond it, the heart of Darkness resides but this wall is not what it seems to be."

"What are you talking about, Elf?" Gimli said roughly. "It's a wall and a wall's a wall."

"That is what's so peculiar about it. There is no wall, from what I sense." The full magical power of the Sindarin Elf was shown through the way Legolas was speaking and how absolutely focused and serious he was. "The Shadow began its reign in there."

"All of you are crazy," said Gimli, ignoring the look of rapt concentration of Legolas. "That bit of the wall, like the rest of the wall, is solid rock that leads to nothing but miles of earth."

"Gimli, you must believe my words: there is no wall!"

"Gods, Legolas! I am going to prove it to you once and for all to you." He went towards the section of the wall, stubbornly ignoring Pippin, Merry and Legolas' cries. He made the motion to lean against it. "This is solid rock."

"Gimli, no!"

But, it was too late. Gimli had already slid through the wall, creating small ripples that escaped everyone's eyes except for Legolas' keen Elvish ones. Without hesitating, the Elf ran in to follow his Dwarvish friend.

Aragorn and Frodo, who had formed a rather close friendship with Legolas, followed in next. Sam steeled his nerves and went in pursuit of his former master.

"The stubbornness of Dwarves never disappear even after millennia," Gandalf said in a quiet, exasperated tone. With the swish of his cloak, he disappeared into the wall.

Pippin once again held onto Merry's arm in fright. The older Hobbit looked at his cousin's curly sandy head and felt a rush of protection over him. Curving his arm so that he could protect Pippin a bit more, he set off towards the wall.

In a split second, the subway station was as it was before the Fellowship arrived. They were inside the Lair of Darkness.

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