Chapter Text
Thorin didn’t want to wake. As it was, waking seemed unavoidable when he felt a press of lips to his mouth. He opened his eyes just enough to see. “Morning,” Bilbo said, voice husky from having just woken up.
“Good morning. What time is it?” It came out more wha’ time izzit.
“A little after eight.”
“What the hell, Bilbo?” Thorin groaned. Tired as he felt, he’d rather sleep until noon.
“I have to catch my flight. I’d rather not call my boss to tell him I missed my plane because I overslept. He will ask why and I’d rather leave my sex life at home, personally.” Thorin barely heard another word past “flight,” cursing himself for letting his emotions overtake him last night.
Why did I beg him to stay? I know he can’t, so why did I bother?
“Thorin?”
Thorin sat up. “Would you like me to drive you?”
“I have a rental car…” Bilbo bit his lip, laid on his side and propped up on an elbow. “Would you prefer to drive me?”
Thorin stared at Bilbo, trying to memorize him.
His mist-blue eyes…The curve of his nose…the way it twitched when he sniffed…Honey-blonde locks tossled over his round face…a thick curl spiraled just above his right eye…Lips still kiss-bruised red…The hickey sucked into his neck…His ears…
Thorin traced the curve of Bilbo’s ear with his finger, watching the smaller man shiver, schooling himself not to lean in or pull away. He should have taken advantage of that last night. And probably would have had he remembered his ear’s sensitivity.
“Yes. I’d prefer that. Doesn’t change the fact that the car still has to be returned…” He swallowed, holding back the urge to ask if Bilbo really needed to leave today. “So I guess you need to get up now…”
“I should do that…”
Thorin swallowed. His throat felt tight again. If I asked you again, would you change your mind? He doubted it.
Bilbo stood, limping toward the bathroom.
Thorin watched from the door, eyes fixated on Bilbo’s bum until he disappeared behind the door. He lay back down, covering his face with his arm, trying to calm himself before new tears escaped, listening to the shower run.
#
Frodo shrunk into the guard’s frame, trying to seem insignificant, eyes downcast and hands twisting his bag straps.
His eyes fix on the stump of his right hand.
He hated it. Perhaps he always would hate it.
“Frodo,” the guard squeezed his shoulder gently, urging him to look up. “Look who is back.”
Bilbo walked through the gate, approaching baggage claim listing the flight from Seattle. Frodo tore away from his guard. Bilbo knelt, arms spread to welcome him. Frodo couldn’t hold back the tears any more despite knowing he’d be embarrassed later for wailing like a babe. He just missed Bilbo so much!
Bilbo let him weep, kissing his temple and carrying him to the rotating belt. He was set down eventually and he settled for leaning into his uncle while his bags were gathered. He and the guard were talking about the case Bilbo had just returned from. Frodo didn’t care about it. Whatever happened, Gollum was dead and he could live with Bilbo again.
“Are you still having nightmares, Frodo?”
He looked up at Bilbo and shook his head. “Sometimes, but not as much anymore,” he whispered.
“What about your games?” He shook his head. “Writing about…”
“Nope. I’m not all better, but I’m definitely better than before.”
“Good. I was wanting to talk to you about something and I know it’s a bit much right now, but I’d like to at least have you know I’m thinking about it. But we’ll do that after I’ve talked to Uncle Rory.”
“Okay. What about?”
“Moving.”
“To where?”
“Seattle. We’ll discuss it later,” Bilbo promised, ruffling Frodo’s hair.
“Why?”
“Why Seattle or why later?”
“Why Seattle?”
Bilbo blinked at him and bit his lip. “There’s a little girl a bit older than you who just went through something horrible and I think you’ll like to know her. She has an uncle and older brother, but it may be nice for her to know another child who also has PTSD.”
Frodo wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get along with a girl older than him. Most girls who were older than him were snooty. He nodded anyway, because he didn’t really care where at this point so long as he could be with Bilbo. It wouldn’t hurt after all…and Frodo felt Bilbo was leaving something out. He’d figure it out later, pretending to be satisfied with the answer provided at the moment.
~Six Years Later~
“Kili,” Thorin knocked on the door to her room. “Princess?” He opened it and entered cautiously. Of course she’d have ear buds in, tapping a pen against her desk. He tapped her shoulder. One bud was pulled out and he handed her to envelope. “From the University of Massachusetts.”
“Thanks.” She ripped it open, reading. And beamed. “I got in.”
“I’ll let Bilbo know, then,” Thorin sighed. He had hoped she’d not get accepted so far away from home.
Kili didn’t suffer her usual nightmares as often anymore, but once in a while, she would wake up screaming, nails scratching at her neck. When Thorin, Fili, Frodo, or Bilbo finally managed to calm her down enough to stop screaming, Kili would be hit with severe hyperventilation, demanding an immediate fresh air and a glass of water before she was calm again. They used to be nightly, but her shrink had been a godsend if nothing else.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay going someplace so far from home?” Thorin asked. “You also got into the U-Dub.”
“And I’m very glad I got into the U-Dub. But Legolas isn’t attending the University of Washington, Thorin. But he is attending the University of Massachusetts.”
Thorin closed his eyes, trying not to let the mention of Legolas get to him. The kid was okay, on a whole. But he didn’t like the idea of his niece going to a specific college far away from home to be with a boy she had been “crushing on” since…around the same time she was nearly killed by said kid’s nutcase father…Thorin didn’t quite get the logic of Kili’s love for Legolas. It didn’t escape Thorin’s notice that Legolas was also infatuated with Kili as much as she was with him. Bilbo was more worried with how Legolas’ resemblance to his father would affect Kili’s mostly curbed PTSD. Fili would rather break both his arms, regardless of relations or lack thereof.
“We agreed we’d go to the same college together.”
“And he couldn’t have come to the U-Dub?”
“He tried two years ago to get in. Remember? You subtly reminded him you owned a gun.”
Thorin snorted. “I almost forgot about that…”
“Not funny.”
“Yes it is…you were sixteen, what was I supposed to do?”
“Maybe trust that he respects, or rather fears, you too much to try anything until I was eighteen. Which is today, isn’t it?”
Was it? Thorin grimaced. Well shit. Not really, he remembered and Bilbo had been using his much needed week off getting ready for a birthday party/open house for Kili. (And for other things probably best left unsaid if Thorin valued his life and…certain parts.) Fili would be coming by later today and Frodo should be home soon…
Bilbo was convinced that their youngest nephew was innocently off with friends and deliberately not trying to spend more time with his new English teacher, Mr. Elessar. Supposedly the man was a god or something similar in Frodo’s eyes. The boy wouldn’t stop worshipping the man’s every word. Thorin twisted the gold ring around his finger anxiously, frowning. Kili watched him, waiting for him to leave or switch subjects. He dropped his hands and stuffed them in his pockets.
“Anything else, Thorin?”
“Nothing that comes time mind,” he admitted. “See you downstairs in an hour.”
“Okay.”
The ear bud goes back in and Thorin closes the door behind him on exiting the room. He found Bilbo in the kitchen, finishing the finger sandwiches neatly piled on a plate and wrapped his arms around him, kissing his neck. “Can’t wait until after the party?”
“I can wait,” Thorin promised. “I just don’t really want to.”
“I can tell,” Bilbo said, turning to give Thorin a peck on the lips. “And while I would love to indulge you, I’d rather not be caught in a compromising position. Again. Unlike you, I don’t take enjoyment scarring half the family. And I especially didn’t enjoy scarring that half at our wedding.”
Thorin snorted. “Yes, Dear.”
Bilbo muttered something that sounded like “typical.”
“I love you,” Thorin whispered in his ear.
This time he received more than a peck. “I love you too.”