Bilbo meanders down Bagshot Row, laden basket heavy on one arm, head tipped to the sun. The trip to the market had been so lovely, just what he needed to stretch his legs and to hear all the gossip - not that any of it was new to him. It followed in the same vein as all Shire gossip, and Bilbo was able to listen to it with the faint familiarity that comes with hearing something you heard long ago and forgotten.
"Master Bilbo!"
Bilbo turns to see Hamfast Gamgee walking towards him, waving his hat. The tips of Bilbo's ears begin to burn. He hasn't seen the gardener since his disastrous awakening three days ago. Bilbo has to force himself to stay in place as Hamfast approaches; he rather feels like leaping a fence and bolting somewhere far far away.
"Master Bilbo, did you hear about Rorimac Brandybuck and Menegilda Goold? Oh, I laughed til I was 'bout fit to weep! Missus thought I was gone 'round the bend when she found me!"
Bilbo has, of course, but he is content to hear Hamfast's delighted retelling.
The two talk amicably as they move down the lane, although Bilbo's ears will insist on burning hot red the entire time. Finally they stop before the gate into Bag End.
Hamfast's lively face has gone serious, and he holds Bilbo's gaze.
"You goin' to be alrigh', Master Bilbo?"
Bilbo softens, "Yes, I expect I will be."
Hamfast nods and a small smile returns, "You might want to splash some water on those ears when you get inside."
Bilbo scowls.
"And don't go hidin' for another three days just because I embarrassed you again!" Hamfast says, continuing down the lane.
"Awfully bossy for a gardener, don't you think?" Bilbo yells after him. His response is a dismissive flick of the hand over his shoulder.
Bilbo enters Bag End chuckling, and commences with putting away his spoils, ignoring the shattered platter in the entryway and the splintered stool in the sitting room.
When he had awoken from his faint, he was desperately trying to hold on to - to - on to - well, something he knew was important. But he couldn't remember past a fierce face and a hammer striking an anvil, and then Hamfast was peering down at him.
"You alrigh', Mister Bilbo?"
A wretched sob answered for him. Tears were streaking his face and Bilbo could feel his very bones shaking.
Ah, there is such a long life ahead of him.
"Master-"
"Go tend for Ronkin," Bilbo said (harshly, he would later realize), "You can't help me here."
"Bilbo-"
Go before my sorrow drowns you too.
"Please, Hamfast."
And Hamfast had left, but not before pressing a handkerchief into Bilbo's hand and helping him to a chair. He didn't say a word as he closed the door.
A wave of guilt for bringing Hamfast down on a joyful day swept Bilbo away into a torturous sea, and he didn't drag himself out of it until this morning.
It's all quite fuzzy, but Bilbo thinks he started breaking things right around the time he thought of Balin's tomb, deep in the heart of Moria, that stupid dwarf, hadn't the awful place soaked up enough blood, it wasn't worthy-
Bilbo slams a jar of strawberry preserves onto the shelf with more force than he intends, and exhales sharply.
What is he, an uncivilized Dwarf? To mindlessly break furniture and dinnerware, and then to just leave it?
How Bungo would lecture if he saw him now.
How he would lecture if he knew anything about Bilbo's past-future-present, or whatever this strange repetition lands on that scale.
And how Belladonna would smile.
"Still an achy old hobbit on the inside, then," Bilbo mutters, wrinkling his nose, "And still a mad codger talking to himself."
He shuffles out of the stocked pantry to find a broom and maybe a semblance of normality.
autor's note: in case I didn't make it clear, Bilbo has a sort of flashback in the middle of the fic, which opens after he faints, and then comes full around to the broken stuff. I really struggle with pacing & such.
I LOVE GAMGEES. GAMGEES OF ALL SORTS ARE THE BEST.