AN:

Remember when I said I was trying to work on a consistent schedule of Monday posts? Yeah, forget that.

There are a couple things I wanted to cover in this author's note. First, I keep forgetting to put in a disclaimer! So here it is:

I don't own The Hobbit, or anything associated with Middle Earth, and I make no profit from this work. Only my OCs and a few tiny subplots woven into this story belong to me.

Now that that's done, onto reviews. Thank you so much the awesome response I've received so far. Reviews are definitely appreciated. I got a few questions in some recent reviews, so I figured I would answer them as best as I can. First, will there be a pairing in this story? Yes. I've listed this as a Thorin/OC fic, so there will eventually be some romance. As for whether this will be an AU/fix-it fic, well… I guess… sort of. I don't really want to reveal anything about the ending I have planned, which may even change once I see the last movie (I haven't seen it yet, and the waiting is killing me!), but let's just say it will be… bittersweet. Finally, what about Patrick's body? I'm glad you asked. I haven't forgotten poor Patrick.

This is a pretty short chapter, but I think I'll have the next one up soon. Enjoy.

Chapter 4: A Brief Homecoming

And he don't recognise me anymore.

Burned out flames should never re-ignite.

But I thought you might...

Take me, take me home.

–Home, Daughter

After a breakfast of leftover stew, the dwarves dispersed. It seemed that they had had quite the eventful night even before Gemma arrived. She apparently had saved them from a group of mountain trolls when she crashed into the boulder.

Now that was something not many people could claim.

Gemma was going through her bag again, mostly just for something to do. Just don't think…don't think…don't think about it. But wait...

"Where's my gun?" she asked, remembering that it had been missing when she woke.

"You mean this?" A fair haired young dwarf, Fili she remembered, asked, waving her weapon haphazardly in the air.

"Don't do that!" she cried, snatching it from him and making sure the safety was still on. "God, do you want to blast your face off?"

From his place beside Fili, Kili raised a bushy eyebrow. "That little thing? I doubt it could be that dangerous."

"Well don't try to test that theory, because it can. I'd show you but I'm conserving my ammo. Let's just say, it makes your arrows seem like harmless twigs." She holstered the weapon, the familiar weight on her hip somewhat calming. Ever since… well, she didn't like to be unarmed. Don't think about that either.

The dwarves just smirked at her with disbelief. "If that's true, we could sure use a weapon like that on our quest," Kili stated.

It was Gemma's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Quest?"

Kili was about to reply, but was silenced by an elbow to the gut from Fili and an equally painful glare from Thorin, who had been eavesdropping not far away.

"Oh I get it. Classified, eh? Well good luck on your super-secret quest-thingy," Gemma said nonchalantly. She honestly couldn't care less, because she was still somewhat convinced that this was some seriously screwed up hallucination. It wasn't the most comforting thought, because it meant she was bat-shit-crazy, but hey, at least she was an imaginative insane person. Besides, even if this was real, Gandalf was going to transport her home soon.

She turned to Gandalf, who was standing a little ways away, drawing a circle in the dirt with his staff. "Hey, um... sir?" What exactly was the proper way to address a wizard? "It was really nice to meet you and all, but I'd really like to be going now. Things to do, terrorist ass to kick, so can we get this show on the road?" Don't think…don't think…don't think about it.

Gandalf merely smiled and took her hand, drawing her into the nearly complete circle. She regarded Gandalf as he finished it. He reminded Gemma of a kindly old grandfather, but at the same time he seemed to radiate a sort of aura of power. Normally she would have dismissed the idea of wizards and magic immediately, but with the events of the morning, it wouldn't even be surprising now. Plus, magic would be pretty bad ass. Though if this entire thing was a hallucination, then so was his magic, which meant it wouldn't work, which meant she'd be stuck in this fucked-up medieval wonderland until some crazy doctor from the mental hospital where she would surely be sent snapped her out of it by electrocuting her brain. Okay, maybe she was getting a bit ahead of herself.

Gandalf finished the circle and stepped back, shooting a withering glare at the dwarves, who had begun to crowd around. They simultaneously took a step back, and Gemma chuckled. Gandalf would have made a great interrogator; kind and seemingly trustworthy while intimidating at the same time. She gave them all an awkward little wave, and, just to spite him one more time, gave Thorin a cheeky little wink. He so clearly disliked her (though, she couldn't really blame him; she had threatened his life, after all. Not the best first impression). She almost wished she could stay longer, just to see how angry she could make Thorin; it was pretty fun.

The old wizard held his staff perpendicular to the ground and began muttering foreign words in low tones, so that it sounded like he was humming. Wait, so they were doing this now? She wanted to tell him to stop, wait, she had to get… Don't think about it, her mind still whispered. But no, she should think about it… about him. She couldn't just block him out like she did with all her other problems, because this wasn't about her this time. This was about Patrick. Patrick's body. She needed to bring him home.

But the spell had already begun.

Gemma's skin tingled and her vision swam as the scene before her changed. The trees and grass of the clearing seemed to dissolve as hardwood floors and pastel green walls took their place. She recognized the room as it formed around her; it was the living room of her apartment in Washington. She wasn't just back in her own world, she was home. Gemma could now even feel the floor beneath her feet and her vision started to clear and focus.

She wondered if she had ever even left her apartment at all.

Then there was an agonizing pain in her stomach; a sharp yank, as if something were pulling her apart from the inside. Just as it had before, her surroundings blurred and changed and she was back in the clearing again. Gemma fell forward to her hands and knees as she gulped in air, coughing and wheezing. The pain was excruciating, but began to slowly subside.

"Shit," she nearly sobbed as she again looked up into the faces of thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard. "Oh God!" She heaved and coughed, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the ground.

When the pain was gone, she accepted Gandalf's hand and got to her feet. "What happened?" The wizard questioned.

"It worked. I... one minute I was home, I could feel the floor beneath my feet and everything, and then ... it was like something ripped me away from my world and threw me back here." She wanted to cry, but there was no way she would cry in front of a bunch of strangers twice in one morning. She looked to Gandalf in thinly veiled desperation. "Please, is there anything else you can do? Can we try again?" She just wanted to go home, goddammit.

"I think one attempt is enough this morning, I don't want you to be hurt, my dear. But there is someone who may be able to help with your... unique situation. I believe we will encounter him in our journey."

Thorin seemed to realize what Gandalf was implying just as Gemma did, and he made a noise of disapproval. The wizard gave Thorin a hard look, as if daring him to argue, before turning back to Gemma with a kind smile. "So for now, you shall travel with us."

So I'm aware that I'm screwing around with Gandalf's magic and how it works, and there will be more of that, which some of you may not like. But I have this idea planned, and this is the only way to do it. I think the result will be worth some of the weird things I'll have to throw in.

Review?