A/N: Hi! Sorry I haven't updated in forever! I lost my fight with the flu (I was so pathetically sick for weeks) and then I got hit with the stomach flu - and senior year of college has been unforgiving; especially because I'm a double major. Word of advice: never rotoscope anything ever. If you want to see what I was working on for weeks instead of this, check out my art tumblr (livingwithendoart) under the "my art" subheading.

CHAPTER WARNING: none

Bilbo absently hummed a tune, lyrics that had been burned into his mind running through his head – far over the Misty Mountains cold… – as he and Frodo pulled the corners of the fitted sheets over the mattress.

"Uncle Bilbo, I can't sleep."

"Frodo, you aren't even in bed yet," Bilbo said, trying his best to not chuckle.

"But I don't want to go to sleep," Frodo whispered. "I'm scared I'll have nightmares again."

"Oh, Frodo," Bilbo said, as he sat on the bed. "Is that what woke you up last night?"

Frodo only shifted his weight from foot to foot in response, his face clouding until tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

Memories of losing his parents, his King, and his almost-nephews flooded Bilbo's mind and weighed his heart down so that it felt like it had sunk into his stomach. Just the memory of the despair that once filled him let the feeling resurface; it was if his body had been wandering the wastes of Mordor for months on end – and this despair was the water he so desperately craved.

Quickly standing, hoping the sudden movement would shake his memories lose, Bilbo moved towards his nephew and enveloped him in a hug. It was a huge hug, the kind that Bilbo remembered being wrapped in often by Dís and Bofur. If Bilbo was being honest with himself he never expected to grow so close to Dís in his despair.

No, he corrected himself, our despair. We grieved for the same people that had claimed such huge portions of our hearts. I never thought a friendship could grow from our loss.

It was Dís that had started forcing him to eat, that had looked after him when he could barely make himself move from the bed to the privy. After the funeral, Dís took all of her love for her brother and sons and put into taking care of Bilbo because Bilbo loved and was loved by her precious family.

"Frodo, you don't have to talk about this if you don't want to. I love you and I'm staying with you no matter what, even if you never talk about your nightmares."

That night the two slept in Bilbo's bed, Frodo firmly cuddled up into his uncle's side.

A scream filled Bag End and jerked Thorin out of sleep. Before he was fully awake, he was in a defensive crouch on the bed; even decades of safety hadn't diminished the reflexes that had kept him alive after the desolation of Smaug.

"Frodo."

Thorin threw the blankets aside, the cold startling Bilbo into consciousness more than the sudden movement; Bilbo had grown used to the thrashing that came with Thorin's nightmares.

Another cry came from Frodo's room and Thorin was off as if Smaug had come back from the grave to attack their small family. Bilbo stumbed after him once he disentangled himself from the bed, concern for his nephew filling him with an almost overwhelming desire to protect the faunt.

Bilbo burst into the room and was greeted with the a sight that nearly made him cry: Thorin was sitting on Frodo's bed, with the hobbitling standing on his lap. Frodo's arms were wrapped around his uncle's neck and his face was buried into Thorin's neck, although the cascading beard and sleep-disheveled hair did nothing to muffle the sobs that seemed too loud for such a small body.

Thorin simply sat there, letting Frodo cover him in snot and tears as he rubbed Frodo's back. This is what he must have been like with Fíli and Kíli when they lost their dad, Bilbo thought, sadly grateful for Thorin's experience with young children losing a parent.

Bilbo sat on the bed next to them, reaching his arms around his nephew and husband. He wasn't sure how long they sat on the bed in silence, but not even exhaustion could keep Bilbo's attention away from Frodo.

Once Frodo's sobs had turned to sniffles, Bilbo reached up and ruffled his nephew's hair. "Come sleep with us tonight, hmm? You can sleep right in between us and we'll keep you safe and never leave you."

Frodo nodded into Thorin's neck and reached out a hand to hold on to Bilbo. "Promise?"

"I promise."

Bilbo knew how foolish such promises were, after all one day he would die and had already faced death far more than a respectable hobbit should.

He gave Thorin a nod and the group disentangled their limbs just enough that Thorin could carry Frodo back to their room.

They all settled into the bed, Frodo curled up with his back to Thorin and one small hand grasping Bilbo's nightshirt. Bilbo waited until he was certain Frodo was asleep before he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know, I know. I shouldn't have made him a promise I can't keep."

"I would have promised had you not, mizimeth."

Bilbo felt muscles he did not even know were tense relax as tears sprang to his eyes. "What do we do, Thorin? How do we help him?"

"He has to help himself. After Fí-" Thorin cleared his throat, "after Víli died, I got the boys a puppy each. They had each other, but they needed the distraction and the unconditional love."

"Did it help?"

"Not me," Thorin tried to frown, but a smile crept up the his face. "Dís decided that because I had given them the puppies it was my responsibility to help the boys train them and clean up after them when the boys wouldn't."

Bilbo stifled a laugh, thinking immediately of the stories he heard of the two Hellion Princes of Erebor and their Mangy Mutts – not that anyone would have called the dogs that in said princes' presence, of course.

"But it did help my nephews. The pups not only taught them responsibility, they brought my nephews out of a grief Dís and I were beginning to think would never go away. But my nephews had each other and they had their mother. I cannot imagine how lonely Frodo must feel," Thorin whispered, running one hand gently through the faunt's dark curls.

"Then let's get him a puppy."

Thorin sighed, remembering the months of dedication it took to properly train a dog and the lack of discipline his nephews had had in training Onyx and Jasper.

"And here I thought I was going to be able to relax in my old age, Burglar."

The sun poured in through the windows, marking the start of a new day. Hobbits across the Shire were already out and about, preparing their breakfasts as they got ready for the day to truly begin.

However, Bag End was free of the morning hustle and bustle; the two residents still lying asleep in their bed. As the day got brighter the curtains could no longer block enough light to let Bilbo Baggins sleep any longer.

A puppy, Bilbo thought to as he woke up, a glance at his still-sleeping nephew bringing a smile to his face. Perfect.

A/N: I have the rest of the story outlined, I just need to find the time to write! So far it's looking like there are going to be 15+ chapters in total so please be patient with me and I hope you enjoy the rest of this! :D