"Faramir, as happy I am that you finally managed to work up the courage to ask Eowyn out, I really think it's not safe to go out at night anymore," Boromir said as his younger brother gathered up his stalk of books. Boromir had been serving him a coffee from the café, and had been talking to him whenever he got the chance.

"Boromir, I'm not a little kid anymore, I can handle myself," Faramir shot back, arranging his books on a stalk by size. Boromir was tempted to move it, just to bother his little brother, but he decided against this. If Boromir did that, it may seem as though he was mad at him. He wasn't; he was just concerned about his safety.

"Frodo got stabbed, Faramir, and he could handle himself," Boromir pointed out, "I'm not trying to belittle you, Faramir, I am just worried for you."

At this, Faramir made a face at his little brother, "You don't need to worry about me, Boromir. I appreciate the concern, but I think that you're being a little bit over protective. They stabbed Frodo, yes, but the police are everywhere, Boromir, I think we'll be okay."

Boromir looked at his brother, trying to contain the look of defeat on his face. Faramir was right; he could handle himself. But it was all habit to Boromir.

Ever since their mother died of cancer when Boromir was ten, and their father slipped into Major Depression, Boromir had to be the man of the house. He had to make Faramir's lunches, walk him to school, and make sure that he did his homework. His father did not seek treatment, and Boromir only realized the reason when he was grown. Seeking treatment would have meant that his father was getting over his mother's death.

Even though Denethor was now under treatment, and was doing very well, Boromir still could not help himself. After so many years of taking care of Faramir, it was nearly impossible to get it out of his system.

"You're right, Faramir," Boromir said, somewhat reluctantly, "You should be fine."

Faramir glanced up at Boromir. Boromir tried to force a smile onto his face. He was truly happy for Faramir. He had been crushing on Eowyn since he first saw her, and when he found out that she was just as crazy for him as he was for her, the first thing he did was call Boromir. They celebrated with a marathon of their favourite childhood movies, despite knowing that what they were doing was completely lame.

"I'll be okay, Boromir, I promise," Faramir told him, patting him on the shoulder, "You don't need to worry. Eowyn did karate as a child, and is on the soccer team. If anybody tries to hurt me, she'll kick the crap out of them."

Boromir laughed at the image, but had a feeling that the latter was incredibly plausible. He then vowed to never get on Eowyn's bad side, because he would not want to have to go to the hospital any time soon.

"Okay," Boromir said with a small smile on his face, "I trust you. Have a fun night. What movie are you going to see again?"

"Oh…" Faramir gave his brother a sheepish smile, "The Wargs of Isen."

Boromir laughed out loud, looking at his little brother, "You're going to watch a horror movie?" Oh for Eru's sake, you hate horror movies!" Boromir almost keeled over he was laughing so hard. He was drawing weird stares from the customers, but really couldn't care. His younger brother, who was terrified watching Harry Potter as a child, was going to watch a horror, slaughter movie. "I guess it gives you an excuse to cuddle with Eowyn..." Boromir wiped a tear from his eye, "You can't sneak into my bed if you get nightmares."

At that, Faramir punched him in the shoulder, and Boromir just snorted. Faramir's cheeks were red when he said, "Eowyn really wanted to see it… I couldn't just say no."

"Oh I wish I could be there," Boromir said with a shake of his head, "To watch as you nearly shit your pants every time a Warg jumps out and kills somebody."

"You better not show up," Faramir threatened, glaring at his older brother.

"I promise," Boromir vowed, before he cleared Faramir's mug, "Are you going to tip me or what?"

Faramir rolled his eyes at his brother, and then tossed a quarter at him. Boromir caught it with ease, and then slipped it into the tip container on his belt. He took the tray back to the counter, just as the bell in the café rang to tell him that his younger brother had left.

"What were you laughing about?" a newly recovered Frodo asked. Boromir started to chuckle again as he set down his mugs.

"Faramir's going to see a horror movie," he replied, and Frodo just shook his head. The English major was still very pale, but he had gone back to work because he said that he had been getting bored. Since Frodo could not carry anything too heavy, he was stuck on eternal dishes duty. Not that Boromir minded; his least favourite thing was to do the dishes.

"That poor boy," Frodo shook his head, "I was never fond of horror movies."

"Oh, my friend Beregond and I would always make bets to see who would die, and who would live," Boromir informed the younger man as he unloaded the dishes from his tray, "The biggest upset was when that actor, the one that kind of looks like me, didn't actually die in a movie. It defied all knowledge of movies."

"Sean Bean, you mean?" Frodo asked with a smile on his face, "I don't think I've seen a movie where he actually lives."

Boromir nodded, "Neither have I. How's the arm holding up?"

"It's fine, thank you for asking," Frodo said, as he unloaded some dishes into the water, "it's a bit sore, but the nurse said that it could be worse."

Boromir nodded, before he saw a hand fly up. He gestured his head in the direction of the hand, before he went to go serve. Gimli was glaring at him, most likely due to the fact that Boromir was somewhat slacking off since Faramir had entered, and Boromir gave him an apologetic smile. Boromir served five customers before he came back to Frodo with a new load of dishes.

"Why'd they stab you anyways?" Boromir questioned, and Frodo held up a golden ring. Boromir stared at it in awe.

"Such a strange fate, that there would be so much suffering over such a small thing," Boromir commented, narrowing his eyes at the ring. It was pretty, no doubt, but Boromir couldn't see himself stabbing anybody for it.

"I think Faramir's gotten into you, Boromir," Frodo said with a small smile as he pocketed the ring, "That was somewhat Shakespeare-esque."

Boromir glared at Frodo, before he shook his head. Looking up at the clock, he gave a small sigh of relief, "My shift's over. Have a nice rest of your day," Boromir said, before he walked through the 'STAFF ONLY' door. Boromir changed quickly; he had an assignment due in his class that he had unfortunately been procrastinating on.

He waved goodbye to Frodo and Gimli, and walked outside. It was snowing hard; thick fluffy flakes making it hard to see. Boromir tried to brush the snow from his face for the longest time before he realized that it was going to be a lost cause.

He was waiting at the crosswalk when he saw Pippin and Merry. They must have been going to work. Boromir waved at them, and they waved back. The light to walk changed, and they began to walk across the street. Pippin was in deep conversation with Merry, not really paying attention to the outside world. Merry looked as if he was deeply unimpressed with Pippin, though Boromir could see a hint of a smile on the (pre)law student's face.

Boromir was about halfway across the street, passing the two younger men when he heard a loud squeal of car wheels. Boromir turned to see that a car stopped at the intersection was no longer stopped, despite the fact that the light was still red, and instead was screaming down the road directly at Pippin and Merry.

Boromir acted upon impulse. He flung himself at the boys, and shoved them across the street, just before he was struck by the car. Boromir heard a scream, and then a heavy ringing in his ears before there was a second hard impact, and darkness consumed him.

With the snow and ice on the roads, one might have thought that it was an accident that Boromir had been hit. It would have been a plausible excuse if the driver had not driven away without a care, despite their cracked and bloodied windshield. It would have been a decent excuse if Pippin and Merry had not seen the flaming eyeball of Mordor College in the centre of the sweater of the driver.

Thanks to Moonlight1300, NTSFroes, tommyginger, LoTR-HP-PJ, Wanderingidealism, Goldie Gamgee, BoricuaPinkRanger, BrightWatcher, Julsie14, Daeril Ullothwen, SilverMoonrise, Pipkin in the Grass, mngirl, and . for reviewing!

Thanks to Timemidae, Revolutionary Star, 1234grace, Cherubfreak, Syola, Pipkin in the Grass, . , and Rachel8888 for favouriting/subscribing.

Sorry for such a short chapter, I still have exams to study for!

Question; based off my writing, how old do you think I am?