A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I thought I'd post the second part before Christmas. The third, and final, part won't be posted until probably after the New Year, so...sorry and hope you enjoy this. P.S. Ignore the numbers in the middle...they're meant to be breaks, since I don't know how to put page breaks on here. Sorry

Chapter 2

All too soon they were staggering to the front door of Bag End, well aware that comfortable beds and even more comfortable ale was waiting for them. Each let out a contented sigh as they settled themselves in the livingroom chairs. Frodo went to the kitchen as Merry and Sam got out their pipes and Pippin followed him.

Frodo turned with the four full mugs of ale and found himself face to face with Pippin. He sighed and tried to move past him. Pippin wouldn't let him.

"Not tonight, Pippin," Frodo said irritably. "I've had a good day and I'd like to keep it that way." Pippin took the mugs of beer from Frodo's hands and set them on the table.

"I'm not letting you out of here until you tell me what's the matter." Frodo sighed again and sat down.

"Why does it matter, Pippin? I'm a grown hobbit. I can take care of myself." Pippin stared at him with a patient look and waited silently. "All right!" Frodo was beyond exasperation, acting as if Pippin had pestered him to no end. "I'll tell you, but you must swear that it stays here." Pippin grinned a grin that was typical to his lineage and Frodo gave a mock scowl that turned into a small smile. Then he sighed.

"I've been having dreams about…/him," Frodo said in a low voice. Pippin's eyes widened. "And they remind me about all of it all the time and I haven't been getting much sleep lately. But, I'm getting better," he finished lamely. Pippin looked sceptical.

"That's not all that's wrong," he said. Frodo frowned. He'd hoped he could convince Pippin it was just the dreams bothering him. "Why don't you tell him?" Once again Frodo marvelled at the change in Pippin, how finding his love had slowed his rambunctious nature a little, how it'd made him more attentive to what was happening around him. At the same time he wondered if he was really /that/ transparent.

"Tell who what?" Frodo asked, trying, and failing, to appear not to know what Pippin was talking about. Pippin scoffed and stood his ground. Laughter came from the living room and Frodo caught a glimpse of tussled sandy curls. He expelled a breath and looked at the floor. "He's…." his voice caught and Frodo was amazed to find tears welling in his eyes. He forced himself to stay calm and started again. "He's too young. And," he continued, quelling Pippin's protests, "he doesn't need the confusion of me loving him. No," his voice had an audible catch and he cleared his throat, trying to force the lump from it. "He'll get married and have as many kids as he deserves."

"But—" Pippin started but Frodo cut him off.

"/No, Pippin, it's what he deserves." Tears splashed on his cheeks. "It's all I can give him." Pippin opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, sighing deeply.

"If that's what you want Frodo," he said solemnly. "But are you sure that's what Sam wants?"

1

Thunder crashed down on the earth, seeming to be punishing it for the great weather that past week. Pippin shivered under the covers and moved closer to Merry's side. Merry, noticing Pippin's unease, wrapped his arm more securly around him, smiling when Pippin scooted even closer.

"To think that only a few hours ago we were picnicking with Frodo and Sam," Pippin said softly. Merry stroked his auburn curls and mumbled an affirmative. They would be leaving early the next morning, they needed the sleep. But something was niggling the back of Merry's mind.

"What were you talking about with Frodo earlier, Pip?" Pippin laid quiet, thinking about what they'd dicussed. He concurred that Frodo wouldn't mind him telling Merry, so he did.

"And I knew that there was more to it than old nightmares," he said slowly. Merry was looking at him, his blue eyes shining whenever the lightning flashed. "I finally figured it out, Merry. Why he helped us, why he was so perceptive with me. He knew because he was/is, feeling the same thing I was." Pippin bit his lip, not sure how far he wanted to break his cousin's confidence. He knew Merry'd never tell. "He's in love with Sam, Merry, and Sam's perfectly oblivious to it." A soft smile graced his lips as he added, "and Frodo's completely oblivious to Sam." Merry laid there, mulling it over in his head. It made sense, really. Frodo loved Sam, and anyone with half a brain could tell that Sam was completely devoted to Frodo. If only they could be able to see it. A wistful sigh caught his attention and he leaned down to see Pippin looking out into space, his eyes soft and sad. Merry fixed the image of Pippin like that forever in his mind, to savor when tey were separated. He leaned in and captured Pippin's mouth in a kiss, to which Pippin responded to instantly with a groan.

"I love you," Merry said when they broke apart, an intense urgency in his voice and eyes. Pippin nodded, kissing Merry again.

2

Darkness surrounded him. It pressed into him, permeating his very skin. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe. He was going to drown in this darkness; die without anyone. He wept and the darkness echoed his sorrow, pounding into him with every beat of his heart. He needed air, blue skies, and a recognizable face. It squeezed into him and he was fading, plunging headlong into the dark abyss with eager abandon, anything just to be free…

"Mr. Frodo!" Frodo was awake in an instant, the oppressing darkness lifted by a single flame, a lit candle. He was breathing heavily, sweat coated his skin. He sat up and looked for the source of the familiar voice. "Mr. Frodo?" There Sam was, wearing only a pair of breeches, a worried expression on his face. Frodo forced himself to breathe normal, and the stricken look passed from his face, revealing a very exhausted visage.

"I'm alright, Sam," he said wearily. Sam shook his head.

"No you're not, Mr. Frodo, you're not eating, you're losing weight, you haven't gotten enough sleep in nigh over a week." A hurt look passed over his eyes, but it was quickly replaced again by worry. "Won't you tell me?" He stopped, struggling to find the words. "Won't you tell me what's wrong, Frodo? Maybe, maybe I can help you." He looked so sad that Frodo felt guilty for hiding his problem. He almost told him, right then and there, but he stopped himself. Sam couldn't know. He wouldn't understand and Frodo just knew he'd leave and never look back. "Let me help you, Mr. Frodo."

"I—I don't know, Sam," he lied. "I guess I've been having odd dreams of late. It's nothing to be worried about." He looked outside. "Has the storm gotten worse?" Thunder clapped outside and answered his question. He faked a yawn and smiled wanly at Sam. "You should get some sleep, Sam. Don't worry yourself over an old hobbit like me." He lay back down again and prayed that Sam would go before Frodo had time to let his eyes rove over Sam's chest, the sculpted muscles brought into sharp relief by the candle. He closed his eyes and heard Sam sigh, a sad testimony to his worry. He waited until the door closed and the darkness pulled around him again before sitting up. He'd get no more sleep this night.

2nd A/N: As you can see this is the shortest part. Sorry, it's just the way I edited it. The final part will be longer and will contain more mature themes...yes, it has sex. But that's at the end, so if you don't like it...well. Anyway, hope everyone has a great Christmas tomorrow. Don't drink TOO much egg-nog!