Sam shook with despair and fear. Frodo was in trouble-the ring had taken him again, and here, of all places-the end. His eyes had darkened and taken on a black look of malice and hatred; his voice had changed, somehow-a bit raspy, the tone not at all reminiscent of the Frodo Baggins Sam knew so well and held so dear. It sounded more like someone else's voice-familiar....Gollum. As the realization hit Sam, as the full truth of what was happening came, a great cry-of anger, of sadness beyond reckoning for all things that had been lost and all things about to be lost-tore through his very being, echoing through the chasm of spitting flames before him. The fire of the cursed mountain lit the whole of the place with a livid, wavering, unwholesome light. The droning roar of the vast flames pounded through Sam so violently, along with the staccato of his heart, that it seemed like it would crush the life out of him if his despair did not. Frodo walking, saying that he would keeping the Ring for himself-"It's mine........my precioussssssss...."

Sam heard him as if from far away, the sound of the fire and his heart deafening him so. Frodo glared down at Sam as he crouched on the ground (unable to support himself in the noise, the bleakness of what was happening), cruel loathing carved purely and deeply onto his usually luminous, elvish face, twisting it into something ugly. The bright redorange flames danced across his pale cream skin as he stood at the edge of the chasm of the flames. Sam tried, in vain, to form some sort of an idea, some sort of thought. Tears and sweat came instead, wetting his face, leaving clean tracks and splotches on his grime-covered cheeks. Frodo's face was similarly dirty as he gazed down at the ring.

Sam wished that he could do something, but he couldn't. It was if his mind had been severed off from the rest of him, leaving him without control over his body. He wanted to reach out to Frodo, to draw him away from the chasm, the Ring, EVERYTHING-and bring him back to his Sam. To his great surprise, Sam's arms suddenly reached out. Frodo's head snapped up-he had sensed Sam's movements. He glared at Sam with his now black eyes, pure, raw hatred flashing in them. Tears dripped off of Sam's chin onto his arms.

"Get away from me, you disgusting, FAT thing. You're nothing, you miserable little filth. You make me sick. You'll die, and soon, and then I won't have to look at you anymore."

Sam let out a hoarse sob of agony. Why? Why Frodo? Why was this happening? No, no, nnnnnnooooooooo! With a jolt, Sam realized that Frodo had shouted this last out loud. Sam saw that Frodo's gaze was focused behind him. Before he could turn and follow Frodo's gaze, Sam was ploughed into from behind, sending him roughly, face-first into the ground. He was immersed in soot, dirt, and Elbereth knew what else. Sam shoved himself back up as he blinked and brushed the mess out of his eyes, the instinct to protect Frodo tearing through him as he did. The sight that greeted him as he squinted, trying to see Frodo and what was happening, horrified him. Gollum was back-and wrestling with an invisible figure. Sam knew right off that it was Frodo, and that he had of course put the ring on, hoping that Gollum couldn't see him. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work.

Sam leapt up, anger flaring up inside him. But as ran at his master and that foul Gollum, he realized that he could do no more than simply watch-Gollum was too strong, and he couldn't see his master. He let out a cry of dismay as Gollum suddenly wrapped his overlarge hands around some part of Frodo and lifted it to his mouth. A howl filled with pain and anguish echoed through the cavern, and Frodo suddenly appeared. His hand was bleeding profusely. Gollum spit the remains of Frodo's right ring finger to the dirty ground and made to put the ring on.

Frodo cried out again and launched himself towards him. Sam dashed after them, but before he could reach them, Frodo had shoved Gollum over the edge of the chasm and into the gaping fire below. Sam caught his master's hand in his, but it slipped away as Frodo was pulled into the chasm by Gollum. Sam tried to catch him again, but Frodo fell and Sam could do nothing but watch as his beloved Frodo fell into the fire, terror alight in his eyes and an anguished wail distorting his face......Sam let out a scream...... And suddenly woke with a start, wrenched inside some dark green sheets and a brown comforter.

He struggled loose, panting, as his memory came back to him......Frodo hadn't fallen into the fire. Frodo was alive. So was Sam. Along with the rest of Middle Earth. Sam let out a deep sigh. A moment afterwards, he heard the sound that had woken him up-Frodo yelling away in the next chamber. Sam leapt up and ran out his door, slipping on a sheet as he did. He picked himself up, cursing his clumsiness, and flung Frodo's door open as he reached it.

His master was on the floor, tangled in a blanket, twitching and crying out. Tears made his cheeks shine, even in the dim light of a candle near the door. His eyes were closed but flickering away. Sam realized with a sigh that he was asleep. Having a nightmare, more likely than not. Sam walked over to Frodo and gathered his body into his arms. He hefted him into his bed, and sat down next to his master.

"Frodo?" he asked quietly, recalling him from the throes of his latest nightmare. Frodo was now having them almost every night..... Sam gently shook his shoulder, and Frodo jumped awake in surprise. His huge blue eyes flitted around the room as he worked out where he was. Then his eyes fell on Sam, and flung himself at his dearest friend.

"Oh, Sam! Sam!" he whispered in a shaking, unsteady voice full of distress. "They had you tied onto a table. They held me right next to you as they......as they........."

Frodo dissolved into fresh tears as he rocked and shook in Sam's arms. Sam hadn't expected that-this was a new nightmare. And it's got me dear in a right state, it has. Curse these terrible visions! I can't seem to do anything that would stop them! Ah, Elbereth, haven't you done enough to poor Frodo here?! Sam tightened his arms around Frodo and kissed his forehead.

"Frodo, Frodo me dear.........It's all right. It was a nightmare. Sam's here. He's got you. Just you cry your heart out, it's all right. No need to hide anything from me."

Tears began in Sam's eyes, borne of frustration, sadness, and helplessness. This is horrible. Won't these nightmares ever let him be? Frodo doesn't deserve 'em any more than he deserved that whole quest. Frodo sighed and sniffed against Sam's chest as he gave him one last squeeze. Then he looked up at Sam, into his eyes. Sam looked down at him and met his gaze. For a few beats they simply looked into eachother's eyes. Frodo finally glanced away, looking at Sam's chest instead. He let out a mighty sniff and looked back up at Sam with a shaky smile.

"I've ruined your nightshirt Sam.......I'm sorry."

"Oh, never you mind, Mr. Frodo. Surely a good wash will take care of it." Frodo's smile grew a bit steadier as he nodded and settled himself down onto his bed.

"Lay down with me a bit, Sam? I'm sorry, it's just......."

"Of course your Sam will lie here with you, Frodo. No need to ask it. 'Till you fall asleep, then, me dear?" Frodo smiled and wriggled over on the bed to make room for Sam in answer. Sam lay down and shifted around awkwardly, unsure of how to position himself. Frodo grinned at this shyness.

"No need to be shy, Sam. There's a pillow. Now, come here." Sam scooted over and into Frodo's open arms, his face somewhat hot. Their eyes met as they faced each other. Frodo's brow furrowed suddenly.

"Sam-you've been crying."

"Oh, yes, well......I guess it was just because you were so upset and all and I couldn't help but be sad too. Besides, you've done a fair bit of cryin' yourself, Mr. Frodo, if you don't mind." Frodo's face softened at these words, and his eyes were all of a sudden very bright. My dear, sweet Sam. I don't deserve your kindness, I think. But maybe.....maybe I could try. Show you how much I care about you, how grateful I am that you're with me....

"Oh, Sam......" With these words, he leaned forward and kissed Sam underneath his left eye.

His tongue flicked out as he lapped up Sam's tears. So soft. His skin's so soft-and warm. As Frodo moved along Sam's face, his tongue-feels like velvet, like....darted out between his soft, moist lips and sent tingles along Sam's spine. I don't rightly believe this is happening. I think maybe I'm the one that's dreaming he thought as Frodo kissed his nose, feather-light. Or maybe Frodo's really cracked.....or his nightmare was so terrible that he needs comfort from anyone, even the likes of me as Frodo cupped his face with one hand and grasped one of Sam's with his other. Their fingers curled around one another. I can FEEL his heart.....it's beating so loudly....if only I could hear that sound forever, maybe I could sleep....Frodo mused as he realized that he and Sam were pressed together at the chest.

I wonder if he can feel mine.He moved along Sam's face until all the tear remnants were gone. Frodo's cheeks were pink as he looked up at Sam to gauge his response. Sam was slightly pink as well. He cleared his throat after a few seconds.

"Frodo.....that-that was right nice of you. D-do you think maybe......maybe I could clean you up a bit, too?" Sam's face went redder as he asked. Frodo let out a breathy laugh.

"I think that would be wonderful, Sam." His eyes crinkled with happiness as he moved his face slightly to a better position. Sam started silently as he realized that they were both trembling. Please, don't let me muss this up.....Sam prayed as he brushed Frodo's eyes closed with his lips. He moved down along one of Frodo's hot cheeks, shyly licking the salt away. Sam, Sam......always with me.....never leave me....I'm afraid of what might happen if you do..... Sam moved to Frodo's other cheek. He tugged him closer as he did, pushing their chests together again as he did. He's trembling....his heart's going so fast.....Am I really doing this? Is this really happening? Sam thought, amazed and wondering at the thought. They were wrapped together. Before either one knew what they were doing, their lips met tremulously. Sam gasped, and Frodo tasted salt on Sam's lips. They parted as quickly as they had kissed when they realized simultaneously what was happening. Sam was red, sure that he had overstepped his bounds and was about to hear it from his Mr. Frodo. Frodo's eyes stared up at Sam, bigger than ever and gleaming; he was afraid Sam was going to leave him in disgust.

"Mr. Frodo, sir, I-"

"Sam, I-" They both looked away, embarrassed. Sam broke the silence a moment later.

"Mr. Frodo, sir, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to. If you want me to pack up and leave like, I'd understand. And I'm sorry." Sam's heart was in his throat and thundering in his ears as he looked at Frodo and waited for his response. To his utter shock, a wide smile came across his master's face.

"Sam.....I don't want you to ever leave me. I don't know how I'd.....survive......if you did."

A tremor of fear went through Frodo as he confessed this to Sam. Please, Sam....understand.....I love you......

"Well, Frodo," said Sam in a quiet voice, "you'll never have to worry yourself about that. I couldn't ever leave you. I.....I-I think I love you, Mr. Frodo."

With a cry, Frodo pulled Sam to him and kissed him.

Sam woke slowly the next morning, warm underneath the blankets that covered him. He burrowed further down into the bed and sighed contentedly. He was only half awake, and he intended to remedy that after snuggling Frodo up closer against him. Sam reached his arms out to his side without opening his eyes, grabbing at the space next to him for that bundle of pale skin, chocolate hair, and incredible blue eyes. Not feeling the warm form immediately, he patted around, thinking that Frodo must have shifted somewhat in his sleep, as he was sometimes wont to do. However, after several moments of searching to no result, Sam slowly opened his eyes.

Frodo wasn't in the bed with him. A thrill of panic went through Sam as he shook himself fully awake. He ran his eyes across the room, searching for Frodo; his search ended at a chair that Frodo had moved over to Sam's side of the bed. Sam smiled shyly at Frodo, who smiled back just as coyly.

Then the pair of them simply looked at one another, Sam propped up on one elbow and Frodo in a thin, soft red robe and sitting cross-legged and gazing at him in his chair. Frodo's hair was frizzed and relatively flyaway, which made Sam grin. He reached out a hand and tucked back several strands of hair behind Frodo's ear. Frodo sighed at the slight touch.

"No finer way to wake up than to you, if you ask me, Mr. Frodo." Sam said lightly as he finally broke the quiet revere and sat up. Frodo's eyes gleamed. "I think the same about you, Sam." Neither one could hold back any longer. They moved together simultaneously. Frodo made a soft noise as their lips lightly touched that drove Sam to pulling Frodo against him and taking his lips almost thirstily. When they finally parted, Frodo was flushed and breathing a bit quicker than he had been, and Sam's lips were tingling. They were quiet for a few beats, and then Frodo lowered his hand from Sam's shoulder.

Sam leaned forward to kiss Frodo once more, but to his dismayed surprise his love maneuvered away. Sam looked at Frodo questioningly, but all he got in reply was Frodo gently capturing his hands. Sam saw Frodo swallow nervously and his heart was sent to thumping in his throat.

"Sam, I need......I need for us to talk. About this, about what's been going on." At those words, Sam's stomach suddenly became a heavy block of ice full of fluttering butterflies instead of a means of digestion. Frodo sensed this and brushed his thumb along Sam's closest cheek soothingly. This was terrifying, but he had to tell Sam how he really felt.

"I want for everything to be clear between us-established, if you will, before us......." Here, Frodo grew awkward, grasping for the right words. Sam sighed audibly, his heartbeat retreating back into his chest.

"Before we carry on, like, Frodo?" Sam saw only blinding, effervescent blue as Frodo shifted forward and caught Sam's eyes. "Say it again, Sam." Barely a whisper against Sam's nose. Sam raised his eyebrows wonderingly, his eyes locked with Frodo's.

"My name, Sam. My name."

"Oh. Frodo. Frodo, I......" But Frodo silenced him with a milky-colored finger at Sam's lips.

"Sam, I love you. I love you with.....everything that I am. My heart, my soul......my very being." Sam's heart skipped; he heard Frodo's breath hitch and knew the same had happened to him.

"Frodo, I love you too. Like that. You're all to me, and I-"

"Sam-let me finish?"" Frodo interjected with a small, patient smile. Sam reddened lightly and nodded.

"I love you Sam, as I said. I do, for there is nothing else for me to feel for you. You love me completely. Unconditionally. And no one has ever loved me like that, nor do I think any other ever will, and" Frodo swallowed the lump that had been forming in his throat. Sam squeezed his hands in support, hardly able to comprehend what was going on. "You sacrificed your life as you knew it to follow me and support me, nearly at the cost of you own life more than once. And for no other reason, I'm sure, besides that you cared for me. You risked everything to be with me to the very end, and-" Frodo's throat caught.

He gulped hard and rubbed the tears that were forming in his eyes away, breaking the contact between he and Sam for a moment, before continuing. Sam was utterly still and silent. He was completely and joyously spellbound. "-and I would have died months ago if it hadn't been for you-and your love for me. I came so close to dying, and-" Tears began to slip down Frodo's cheeks in silvery streams. Sam had tears in his eyes as well as he pulled Frodo into a tight embrace. There was no sound save for muffled sobs and quiet murmurs as the two held each other for several long minutes. Then Sam finally kissed the top of Frodo's head, delighting in the feel and smell of Frodo's silky hair, and Frodo gave Sam a squeeze and moved away. Before Frodo could say anything, though, Sam spoke.

"You didn't die, Frodo. I've got you, right here and now and you'll always be safe."

"Sam......" Frodo interrupted, a pained and somehow bittersweet expression stealing across his face. "I did die." Bitterness crept into Frodo's voice. "Not physically. But...in my mind." Frodo looked down at his lap, where his nine fingers were compulsively tugging at the sleeves of his shirt. Sam felt a sort of constriction on his heart and throat as he saw how difficult this was for Frodo. He tried to process and wrap his head around what Frodo was saying. He stilled Frodo's fingers by placing his hands over Frodo's. Sam wanted nothing more than to pull Frodo to him once more and let his mouth and hands extricate the pain from inside his beloved. He had been robbed of so much, and Sam resolved then and there that he would give his all to returning it to him. However, Sam knew instinctively that this was the time for just talking.

"I don't feel anything anymore, Sam. The ring-it-it took everything me that made me who I was. All of it-save for one thing." Frodo set his eyes upon Sam in a way that made Sam's heart shatter and soar in the same moment. In them lie such suffering, love, hope, and loneliness....

"When I'm with you, I feel safe. Cherished. Loved." At this, Sam had to speak.

"That you are, me dear. That you are. Always have been, and will be as long as I'm alive. No matter what. Come what may. Never doubt it. I'm not much for words, but...." A ragged sob escaped from Frodo.

"I shan't doubt it, Sam!" Though tears were now slipping down his face again, a radiant smile lit Frodo's face. "When I'm with you, Sam, I feel like I might be able to live again." Frodo took Sam's hand in his and brought it to his cheek. "Bring me to life, Sam?" Sam gave a soft, breathy laugh that seemed to say, 'Need you even ask?'.

"Now, I thought we'd decided that we'd finished with this. That we'd done more than our fair bit of crying. Seems like we've made a habit of it, though. Look at us, carryin' on like a pair of lasses." He raised an eyebrow at Frodo. "Can you think of any sort of way to put a stop to it?" Frodo grinned widely and pulled Sam to him in response.

"Sam." Tears staining his eyes red and trickling down his cheeks, Frodo tried again to wake his beloved.

"Sam!" This time, Frodo's voice rose along with the desperation lacing it. He shook Sam's shoulder this time for good measure. That did the trick-Sam stirred in his sleep; a tired groan followed the movement of his legs. He opened his heavy, sleep-swollen eyes to see Frodo looming over him, sadness marring his usually serene face. Sam's pulse quickened in alarm as he sat up in their bed.

"Frodo-what's wrong?" He reached out and touched Frodo's arm lightly. His free hand brushed at the tears gliding down his master's cheeks. It took several gulps for Frodo to be able to speak, and when he did his voice shook and stammered.

"I-had-another dream." Frodo managed to get out between little hiccoughing sobs. Sam inhaled deeply and tightened his hold on Frodo's arm.

"Can you tell me about it? Do you want to try, me dear?" Sam asked gently. Frodo's face crinkled up in despair as he shook his head. His face was downcast, his eyes on his maimed hand. Sam gently took Frodo's face in his hands and titled it up so that he could see his eyes.

"What do you want then, me dear?" It was terrible, that expression on his face. It made Sam want to cry and love on Frodo at the same time.

"I don't know, Sam." Frodo whispered. Sam looked again into Frodo's eyes and found the answer there. He suddenly realized that the sun was barely risen in the window behind Frodo. He frowned slightly for a minute, then looked back at Frodo and smiled gently, in his eyes more than on his lips. Sam wrapped his arms around Frodo and drew him in against his chest. Frodo sighed shakily as they hugged.

Then Sam eased Frodo's face from his chest and dabbed it dry with a corner of his nightshirt. He placed a kiss on the top of his head when he was finished and gave him a quick smile. He was glad to see that Frodo had stopped crying.

"Here, now." Sam said, shifting his grip on Frodo to lay him down softly on the bed. He cupped the back of his head so as not to pull at the delicate sable curls as he set him on the pillow. When he had Frodo lying down comfortably, Sam bent down until he and Frodo's breaths were the same.

"I love you, Frodo Baggins. And I-your silly Sam-am here." Sam felt a smile curve slowly across Frodo's lips as a hand reached up into his hair.

"Mine?" Frodo asked quietly-questioning, tentative, as if he were unsure. Sam closed the distance between their lips in a slow, light kiss.

"Yours." He said against Frodo's mouth in a tone that brooked no argument. Then he kissed Frodo again. This time, Sam put out his tongue and ran it worshipingly along the space between Frodo's top and bottom lips. Frodo took in a sharp breath of surprise; Sam's face rose away slightly.

"Sam." Frodo said, more with breath than voice. He rose up on his elbows. Almost in the same instant, his tongue was at Sam's lips and it was Sam who was gasping. Instead of drawing back as Sam hand, Frodo went into Sam's mouth and touched his tongue to Sam's. The ardor of Sam's response made Frodo unconsciously clench his hand painfully in Sam's hair. Sam didn't notice, as he was busy discovering and working out the way Frodo's mouth felt and tasted.

It was only the pressing need for air that drew them apart. Sam grinned at Frodo as they caught their breath; he reached out and wiped away a spot of saliva from the corner of Frodo's mouth. Frodo blushed.

"Sam, I-"

"Shush, Mr. Frodo. It's not even proper morning yet. Any talkin' or.....well.....anything else, if you take my meaning, can wait 'til we've gotten a few more hours of sleep." Frodo smiled. He nodded as Sam leaned back and situated himself down in the bed. After a quick kiss, Sam drew the blankets up around them and pulled Frodo to him.

Later that morning, Sam and Frodo got up together after several long kisses and made breakfast.

"Mmpph-Sam, these biscuits are delicious! Are they one of your Gaffers' creations?"

"No. And they're not the only 'creation' I've thought up lately, I'll have you know. And no, I didn't cook any of 'em up but these biscuits here this morning." Sam said with a laugh as Frodo peered over at the countertop hopefully.

"Well, you'll have to now. I won't eat anything else but another 'creation' of yours again."

"Oh, hush, you." Sam said with mock affronted gruffness, handing Frodo a napkin. After they'd polished off the rest of the food they'd made, the two began to gather the dishes and wipe down the table. Frodo had just finished off the table with a flourishing swipe when he noticed something odd set up amidst their little garden.

"What's that, Sam?" Sam looked up from the sink, where he'd just set down the last of the dishes, and saw what Frodo was pointing to.

"Oh-just somethin' I made for you. Finished it up just the other day." Sam took hold of Frodo's good hand and led him out into the garden. The bright morning sun against the array of colorful flowers had the pair blinking.

"It's an easel." Frodo said, stating the obvious in his surprise.

"And some canvases and a few paints." Sam added, gesturing towards the boards and tubes leaning against the simple wood easel. "I thought it might be an easier way for you to get things out than writing, what with your hand and all, if you follow me." The joyous look on Frodo's face told Sam that his idea had been a good one.

"Oh, Sam-this is wonderful!" He squeezed Sam's hand. "Really. Thank you."

"T'weren't nothin', Mr. Frodo. I hate the way those dreams are still plaguing you. I can't love you and not do everything I can to stop them, now can I? It just wouldn't be right." As Sam said this, Frodo stepped away from Sam and reached out to touch the easel. The surface was slightly rough, but relatively flat. It was sturdy, and a good size too.

"Don't worry about the surface there. I'll get to sandin' it today if you'd like." Sam couldn't help but to out-and-out grin at the mystified expression on Frodo's face.

"Sam-I don't know what to say. I wish there was some way", here Frodo looked into Sam's eyes with an odd sort of wistful look in them, "that I could properly thank you-something I could give you-"

"Now, Frodo-seein' you smilin' and happy like is payment enough. I am just a gardener doin' his job, after all."

"NO." Frodo said harshly. He stepped back over to Sam and took a firm hold of both his hands. "You are everything to me, Sam. Don't you see it?" He leaned forward until their noses were touching. Their eyelashes brushed one another's' and it made Sam shiver. "Don't you see it?" A downward sweep of eyelashes told Sam that Frodo had closed his eyes. They stayed closed as he continued talking. "You mean so much to me, Sam. More than I think I could ever say. I'm only alive and here because of you. Because you....." Frodo paused here. Sam rubbed his nose to Frodo's reassuringly. "Because you love me."

"Oh, Frodo-I do. I do." Frodo cleared his throat as if something had been blocking it.

"I know, Sam. That truth....that truth has saved me over and over again." Frodo let go of Sam's hands but brought his mangled hand up to Sam's cheek. It was the first time that Frodo had touched him with that hand, and the feel of it zinged through Sam's blood hotly. "I owe you everything, Sam. All." Unable to hold back any longer, Frodo brought Sam's face to his and kissed him. "And I plan on giving it to you for the rest of our lives."