Chapter Text
He was looking out the window, but he wasn’t seeing the city before him. Bilbo’s mind was lost to daydreams of impossible things. He’s always been like that though. His head was always in the clouds to see if they tasted like cotton candy, as his mother used to say. Bilbo sighed as he fished out his phone, looking down at the lit up screen. Three unread texts and two missed calls over the course of the past week. He ran a hand through his curls. He really needed to quit putting it off. It was only going to make it that much harder when he finally decided he wanted to be in contact. His thumb ghosted over the app debating on just getting it over with when there was a tap at Bilbo’s window.
He jumped, looking about wildly for a moment as if the mere idea of accepting a text message summoned his dad before him. He was much more appreciative of the blonde on the other side of the glass waving a large, steaming cup of coffee at him. Bilbo grinned brightly as he pushed the button for the automatic windows to the bus.
“My turn, right?” He asked, stretching his hand to pass the paper cup over to Bilbo.
“Rafe, I could kiss you.” Bilbo groaned, accepting the coffee gladly.
Rafe laughed before letting himself in on the passenger side of the ambulance.
“Well, I’m not going to say no. I just hope it goes better than last time.” Rafe teased.
“You mean when I was drunk?” Bilbo spluttered, heat jumping to his cheeks.
“I’m just saying the offer started off the same way.”
Bilbo resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he took a sip of his coffee with the perfect amount of cream and sugar. He let out a deep sigh of contentment as he turned the key to start the ignition. It was moments like this that truly made him appreciate his partner. Rafe and Bilbo had been working together for about three years now, and while the job was hard at times there was honestly no one else he would rather be in the thick of it with. They idled in the coffee shop parking lot, watching the slow rise of the sun transform the world from dark to gray as they sipped their coffees and waited for any word to come through their radio.
“Any plans for your upcoming holiday?” Rafe asked casually.
Bilbo groaned. “I don’t see why I have to take it. Shouldn’t it be a good thing that I want to work?”
“Bilbo, your last day off was eighteen months ago. And it’s because you caught the flu.”
“Yes, well…” Bilbo heaved a sigh. “I have my books and I have my garden and occasionally I go out with friends. What more do I need?”
Rafe didn’t say anything for a long moment, only to break it with an unfortunate truth.
“Still avoiding your dad then.”
Bilbo pursed his lips together, regretting all the nice things he had previously thought of Rafe. He shouldn’t have told him a damn thing about it. It wasn’t Bilbo’s fault his dad was stuck in the past. He didn’t want to have to traverse through his ghosts every time he talked to the man. It was exhausting. Bilbo loved his father, truly he did, but they were just at a weird phase where they didn’t exactly like each other at the moment. Of course that was far too out of the realm of understanding for Rafe whose parents will have been married forty-two years next month. Bilbo took another long drain of his coffee, buying himself a little time, and hoping the caffeine would work wonders soon. That’s when their radio crackled to life.
“911 to the Mathom House. Any units in the area?”
Bilbo and Rafe gave each other a long look before laughter burst out of their frames.
“What do you think Odo did this time? Roll his ankle again? Have a bad bout of gas that he thinks is appendicitis?”
Bilbo shook his head. Bilbo felt like he was obligated to love his cousin, but Odo Proudfoot was the bane of his existence! The manager of the Mathom House, the local museum of odd and foreign artifacts, called nearly once a month. And it never was as bad as he made it out to be. One time he called because his handyman was out and he needed a lightbulb changed. Jumping from one family crisis to the other, but at least Odo was mildly entertaining. Bilbo picked up the walkie, doing his best to cover his amused tone.
“Bilbo and Rafe responding. What has Odo supposedly done this time?”
“Not Odo. There’s a call about a John Doe found unconscious in the alley between the Mathom House and the Green Dragon.”
Sharing another look, this one immediately sobering, Rafe gave him a small nod.
“We’re on our way now.” Bilbo announced.
Flipping on the siren, he weaved the ambulance around the slowing or stopped cars, very familiar with this route at this point. They pulled to the curb, Rafe already grabbing the kit out of the back as Bilbo hopped out to rush over to the scene. There were a couple of people crouched next to the body, staving the blood and taking his pulse. However, they moved back the second Bilbo arrived on the scene.
“Can you tell me about how you found him?” He asked as he started going through his check.
Bilbo carefully took a knee next to the unconscious man, taking in the physical appearance. Unconscious, tall, abrasions, solidly built, lacerations, long dark hair lying in a pool of blood, unresponsive. Bilbo tilted the man’s head back to give his airways an easier time as he pulled out his cuff to take an official reading of his pulse.
“He was just lying there when I went to open up this morning.” The woman stated. “I don’t know for how long. Maybe it was a mugging?”
A mugging certainly did seem likely based on his injuries. Bilbo carefully tilted his head, wincing a little at the massive wound at the back of it. It looked like this poor guy took a baseball bat to the back of the head. He was lucky he was still breathing with a wound like that. Bilbo certainly needed to look at the possibilities of a concussion then at its mildest. The cuff resulted in a slow pulse which wasn’t surprising given the amount of blood from the head wound. This guy could possibly be comatose.
“Bil, how can I help?” Rafe asked.
“Hand me the penlight. We’ll have to run him straight to Gandalf.”
Rafe jumped into action as Bilbo opened the man’s lids, shining the light to see if he could get a reaction from the pupils. It was as he feared though. Concussion in the best case scenario. When Rafe returned, they got the man in a neck brace to keep his neck still until they could assess any spinal or neck damage. Then together they managed to lift him on the stretcher. He was surprisingly heavy for his build and height.
Bilbo had Rafe drive as he stayed in the back getting him hooked up to an IV and trying to clean off the blood to see if there was anything else to be concerned with. Most of his other cuts were superficial. Bilbo still took some gauze to it and strips of tape to hold them in place. He slapped the side when he felt they were ready to go, and for a moment the man’s eyes fluttered.
“Sir!” Bilbo exclaimed. “Sir, are you there? Can you speak?”
Two beautiful blue eyes blinked lazily up at him. Bilbo leaned closer, and the man focused on him. That was a really good sign!
“Don’t worry. We’re taking you to the hospital. You’re going to be just fine.”
“Don’t let them take it, Angel.” He murmured.
Bilbo furrowed his brows in his confusion, and it was his temporary lack of attention that proved to be his downfall. Honestly, he shouldn’t have been leaning in so close. Before Bilbo even had time to blink, the man cracked his skull against Bilbo’s forehead. Bilbo cried out as he fell back against the side of the ambulance, trying to blink spots out of his eyes. The man, on the other hand, fell immediately unconscious again.
Bilbo was stirred into action when his heart monitor began to surge with a drop in pulse. Bilbo ignored his aching head as he prepared the defibrillator. He didn’t have time to analyze what just happened. He would do what he could to keep this man alive, and sort out the rest later.
Rafe pulled up under the hospital awning and they were met by nurses with a gurney. They both took turns telling them about the John Doe’s vitals, because with no wallet and no phone, they had nothing to go off to identify him. They were just about to take him to x-ray when Bilbo interrupted.
“He woke up for a brief moment and spoke to me.”
They nodded and thanked him for the information as Rafe raised his eyebrows at Bilbo.
“That’s good news! What did he say?”
“He said ‘don’t let them take it’.”
“Poor guy, guess we can say he was definitely mugged then.”
Bilbo supposed that was all it was. Would that be his first words waking up after a mugging though? Don’t let them take it. Of course Bilbo would want to keep hold of his valuables too, but why it? Maybe he was just overthinking it. There was no reason for him to look any further into it. He was a paramedic. Not a detective. Bilbo returned to the bus with Rafe deciding he would not give it another thought.
“Damn Bilbo! You’ve got a massive goose-egg on your forehead.” Rafe hissed.
Bilbo felt up where the man headbutted him, and hissed as he made contact with the swelling skin.
“Yeah. I think I hit my head in the bus.” Bilbo explained, not sure why he was lying about it.
“Maybe you should get it checked out while we’re here.” Rafe hummed in sympathy. “And then start your vacation early. I can handle the rest of the day on my own.”
Bilbo had a slew of protests prepared on the tip of his tongue, but Rafe’s will proved stronger in this instance. Bilbo blamed his aching head as he marched to the nurse’s station for some ice and painkillers. He sat in the break room, icebag against his head, playing a mindless game on his phone when Gandalf walked in.
“And what, dear boy, happened to you?”
Bilbo gave the doctor a sheepish smile. “I hit my head in the ambulance.”
Gandalf gave him a sympathetic smile as he filled his cup with coffee and took a seat at the table across from Bilbo.
“Would you like me to take a look?” Gandalf offered.
Bilbo waved him off. “No need to worry. Just a little bump.”
“Speaking of bumps to the head, I was wondering if you might do me a favor.” Gandalf asked.
“Sure.” Bilbo answered, sitting up and putting his phone away.
“I’m concerned about our John Doe you brought in. One of my nurses said he talked to you?”
Bilbo nodded.
“Maybe, unless you already have plans, you might drop by and check on him? I heard your vacation time is coming up and thought perhaps he might respond with a semi-familiar face until we can find his family.”
“Oh.” Bilbo answered.
He supposed that made sense. It was just unusual for him to spend so much time with a patient after he delivered them to the hospital. Although, caring for a patient would be a perfect excuse to not see his father…
“Of course, Gandalf. I’d be more than happy to help.”
***
“Back again, Mr. Baggins?”
Bilbo whirled around to see the nurse at the desk smiling widely at him. Bilbo gave a quick smile back.
“You caught me.” He laughed nervously. “No one’s claimed him yet, have they?”
She shook her head sadly. “No, but he did wake up last night briefly! Dr. Greyham is very optimistic about his recovery.”
That was great news. He did hope it didn’t come with a headbutt as well, but the nurse didn’t say anything about it, just motioning for him to go on inside. Bilbo nodded and thanked her as he worked up the courage to enter. His relief was palpable when he saw that the man was still asleep. It was awkward enough sitting by an unconscious man’s side, he couldn’t even imagine if he were awake and Bilbo had to try and explain himself. He supposed he would start by blaming Gandalf.
Bilbo took his place in the visitor’s chair and just observed him. The man had gorgeous dark hair that was starting to get oily at this point. Bilbo knew he had been subjected to sponge baths for sterilization, but Bilbo mourned the lack of bathing for him. Luckily, they hadn’t had to cut much of his locks when they were stitching his head back together, but there would be a noticeable buzzcut on the right side underneath all of the bandages. Bilbo hoped the man wasn’t too vain about his appearances to pitch a fit at that. Certainly Bilbo has treated plenty who were. The ‘saving their lives’ part falling secondary almost immediately.
Bilbo finally heaved a sigh and pulled his bag of knitting equipment off his shoulder as he settled in for his usual monologue. The first time he had done this, two days ago, he had felt quite silly and was afraid that the man would wake up at any time to tell him off. However, he has come to find it almost therapeutic, talking to someone who can only listen. He even came up with a nickname for him to try and make it less awkward. Like he was talking to an acquaintance or a neighbor instead of a comatose patient.
“Well, Mr. Oakenshield. Not much to add on today. I finally got the last of those stubborn weeds out of my vegetable planter. Only I fear they will just return in a few days. With the rain we’ve been having lately, I wouldn’t expect anything less. You might be pleased to know that Detective Inspector Bard is looking into your case, but has yet to come up with any definite answers to who hurt you. Well, maybe he has. It’s not like I’m privy to police investigations after all. And well, let’s just look at your chart here…oh this is promising!
Dr. Greyham says that you are showing massive improvement. If you can ever finally pull away from this nasty coma, you shouldn’t expect any lasting damage. That’s quite lucky. Just last week my partner and I responded to a man who had gotten himself crushed under an air conditioning unit and…well I’ll spare you the gory details. Let’s just say that he won’t quite have the motor functions he used to.
I can imagine this is very good news to you. I’m mean, I’d hate to assume, but I’d imagine you enjoy spending time at the gym. After all, nobody your age looks like…that is to say you’re very…oh what the hell, you’re probably about the fittest person I know, Mr. Oakenshield. Of course, while you might think that’s why I keep coming to visit you, it’s not. You see it’s this thing with my dad. I just haven’t worked up the courage to…AHH!”
Bilbo jumped out of his chair, dropping his knitting on the bed, as he backed up with a hand over his heart. The man blinked his drowsy but confused bright blue eyes at Bilbo as if trying to make sense of him.
“I’m so…so terribly sorry.” Bilbo explained breathlessly. “This must all be rather confusing. Let me introduce myself. I’m Bilbo Baggins, I’m the paramedic who worked on you after we found you in that alley.”
“Alley?” The man repeated roughly as if the word were foreign to him.
“Um, yes. Let me just call your doctor real quick.”
Bilbo moved to press the ‘assistance’ button above the man’s head, when his hand snaked out to grab Bilbo’s arm. He felt himself gasp, both at the speed of the reflex and the tightness of his grip. No loss of motor skills, that was for certain. The man mumbled something to him, but it was in a completely different language. Bilbo felt his heart sink. He hadn’t accounted for this. The man was a tourist? That might explain why no one had come for him yet. The only problem was Bilbo was quite sure he didn’t speak whatever language the man was muttering in as it wasn’t Westron and certainly not Sindrian, which Bilbo could speak conversationally thanks to his late mother.
“I don’t…understand.” He breathed slowly. “You’ve spoken Westron to me before, can you do that again?”
The man furrowed his brows together before he slowly nodded his head. That was good! Brain functions seemed to be in order as well. Bilbo thought it was best to start with the basics though to give a full assessment.
“Can you tell me your name?”
The man opened his mouth only to close it and open it once more. After that, a look of horror crossed his face, and Bilbo’s attention was grabbed by the spiking heart monitor.
“No, no! It’s okay.” Bilbo rushed. “This is totally common for an injury like yours.”
Instincts took over, and Bilbo grabbed his hand in comfort as he slowly tilted his chin towards him assessing his concussion. His pupils were certainly dilated and when Bilbo asked him to follow his finger around, it definitely seemed conclusive. Concussions and short term amnesia would be common with this type of injury.
“We’re going to start slow. You don’t remember your name right now, and that’s okay. What do you remember?”
The man took a deep breath as his eyes turned towards the ceiling. Before he could say a word though, there was a knock at the door. It didn’t seem unusual until Bilbo’s gaze fell upon the dry erase board next to the door. The John Doe wasn’t due for check-up for another hour, and Bilbo’s finger never made it to the assist button. Bilbo got up cautiously when his arm was grabbed again, but this time the man’s eyes were wide with panic.
“I remember someone was trying to kill me.”
Cold seeped into Bilbo’s chest as his heart thumped along to the adrenaline surging through him. Bilbo barely had a chance to say anything when the door was forced open. After that, it was like a scene from an action movie. Bilbo was thrown over to the other side of the bed as gunshots rang through the room. Cutting through the mattress that had previously been occupied. Bilbo instinctively covered his head, screaming over the noise, managing to wrench his eyes open just enough to check on the other man. What he saw stunned him to silence.
The man was calculated, calm, and seemed to be running off pure muscle memory as his eyes remained wild and afraid. When the gunfire stopped for a moment, the man leapt into action. Taking one of Bilbo’s knitting needles, he shoved it through the throat of the assailant reloading his pistol, using him as a human shield against the second one as he barreled into him before using his own gun to shoot him in the head. In seconds, Bilbo had gone from thinking he was certainly going to die, to staring at two gruesomely murdered bodies. The man certainly wasn’t done there. He poked his head out into the hallway only to curse and close and lock the door. He looked through the pockets of the dead men on the floor for another clip that he loaded into the gun in his hand with an ease that made Bilbo realize he was dealing with some sort of professional.
“Clothes.” He barked.
Bilbo raised his hands above his head slowly. “C-Clothes?” He repeated.
The man growled before pulling at his hospital gown with impatience.
“My clothes?”
Bilbo pointed at the cabinet behind him. As soon as the man spun around, Bilbo made a mad dash for the door. Before he could reach it, he was pushed up against the wall and held there by the deranged man.
“There are three more out in the hallway ready to kill the first thing that comes through that door. Do you want that to be you?”
Bilbo shook his head rapidly.
“Then help me get out of here.”
“Who are you?” Bilbo gasped after he was released.
The man had his back turned to him as he stripped down to nothing pulling on his bloodied and torn clothing from days ago.
“I don’t remember.” He grumbled.
“So how do I know I can trust you?”
“Considering the ease I just killed those guys, if I wanted you dead, I would have already done it.”
That was a rather grim, but valid point.
“Let me ask you something. Earlier, when you thought I was still asleep, you called me ‘Oakenshield’. Why?”
Bilbo could feel his mouth go dry at the question before pointing to the pin on the man’s chest. It seemed to be a coat of arms; only one of the symbols on the shield was an acorn. The man looked down at it as well, his face betraying some amusement. However, he didn’t comment on it as he moved towards the pocket door that was shared between rooms.
“Don’t you think they’ll be waiting for you?” Bilbo asked.
“Only one way to find out.” The man explained before opening the door, pushing the heart monitor through it, and immediately closing it.
There was a shout, the sound of feet running towards the room, and more gunshots. The man quickly closed the door again before he or Bilbo could get hit as he moved towards the outer door.
“Go! I’ll cover you.”
Bilbo didn’t have to be told twice as he raced for the stairwell hoping to find safety from this nightmare. He felt the bullets whizzing by before he heard them, and was definitely aware of the man returning fire as he followed after him.
“Only three more men!?” Bilbo complained, throwing himself down the stairs.
“So maybe four!”
They went down a floor, but rather than keep going, the man shoved them into the door for the ER. It was utter chaos as doctors and nurses were trying to secure and placate patients and guests alike.
“This way.” The man urged, pushing Bilbo through the throng of people trying to get out.
They found a break room and shoved their way inside.
“Are we just going to wait here until the police get here?” Bilbo asked hopefully.
He could tell from the stern look he received that was not going to be the case. So what Bilbo was learning was this man had assassin level skills and didn’t trust the police. The situation he found himself in was looking bleaker by the second.
“Paramedic? Right?” The man questioned holding out a jacket with the hospital’s logo on it.
“Oh no! I have a pretty good idea what you are thinking, and there is no way I’m sneaking you out of this hospital!”
“The longer I’m here, the more people get hurt.” Oakenshield explained as calmly as he could given the circumstances. “Now help me.”
Bilbo would have argued, but the screams and shots down from above were a little harder to argue against. Even if he had a sneaking suspicion the plan the man came up with was going to get him in a heap of trouble. Sure enough, seconds later found him pushing a gurney through ER to the doors on the other side.
“Sir! Just where do you think you’re going?” Bilbo was stopped by a frantic nurse.
Bilbo flashed his ID.
“Ma’am, this is a comatose patient of Dr. Greyham that can’t be off life support for more than twenty minutes. I’m supposed to get him in a bus and to Tuckborough Medical ASAP. Doctor’s orders.”
She hesitated before nodding, going as far as to call in the ambulance for him. Bilbo was going to have to remember how much he owed the staff at Hobbiton General another time. As soon as Bilbo had Oakenshield loaded up, the man pulled away the sheet and climbed into the passenger seat next to Bilbo.
“Okay, you gun-wielding, knitting needle-stabbing manic! I have done everything you asked. I’m most likely going to lose my job for this if they don’t see fit to throw me behind bars. So you better have something you can give me or I’m pulling over at the next police precinct.”
The man grimaced. “I told you. I. Don’t. Remember. I just know they are the bad guys. And they want me dead.”
Bilbo gave a little sarcastic laugh and head tilt. “Oh, great.”
“There is one more thing.”
Bilbo slowly looked over at the man as much as he could without crashing the ambulance.
“It only started to kick in when you called me ‘Oakenshield’, but I was…protecting something…or someone.”
Bilbo was suddenly reminded of the headbutt and the cryptic words. It felt like another lifetime ago at this point, but maybe it was a clue.
“You told me something when I first got to you. You said ‘don’t let them take it’. Does that ring a bell for you?”
Oakenshield’s brows furrowed in thought before he shook his head. “Just the same vague ideas as before.”
Bilbo rolled his eyes. Of course this wouldn’t be that easy. What even was this? Why was Bilbo still here?!
“But this…” The man stated as he pointed towards the pin on his chest. “Is the clue. It’s the coat of arms for Erebor.”
“Erebor?! Like halfway across the world, Erebor?”
“Really? Halfway across the world? Where exactly am I?”
Bilbo drew in a shaky breath starting to finally hit the point of ‘too much’. It’s funny. One would think that moment was…oh, about fifteen minutes ago with all the shooting. The other man seemed to realize it as well.
“Look, I’m sorry. You’ve been very kind to me and if you want me to…walk away, I wouldn’t blame you. I just feel like if I’m able to retrace my steps, I’ll find out what was so important it was literally worth dying over.”
“This isn’t a spy movie. You could just be patient and let the healing naturally take over.” Bilbo suggested with a huff.
“Judging by our friends back there, I don’t think I have that kind of time.”
Bilbo looked over at the man one more time. That lost look that has been in his eyes since the moment he woke up was still there. And despite everything he’s seen, everything he’s experienced that should have him running for the hills, Bilbo really wanted to believe him. And help him if he could.
“Alright.” He sighed. “I’ll show you the alley where I picked you up. But after that, I’m done. And if I get picked up and questioned by the cops, I’m telling them the truth!”
“Fair enough.” The man shrugged. “But could you do me one more favor?”
Bilbo raised an eyebrow.
“Could you stitch this bullet wound in my side?”
Bilbo cursed at the red staining the man’s dark shirt as he pulled over to the side of the road.
“I expect to be billed for all the times I have to play ‘personal physician’.” He complained.
The man let out a roaring laugh that had Bilbo’s cheeks warming all the way to the tips of his ears. This man was too charming for his own good. Even if he was some sort of spy or assassin or serial killer. Bilbo really hoped he wasn’t a serial killer.
He finished the sutures and taped a large pad of gauze over it for any excess bleeding. Bilbo nodded, satisfied with his work. He would normally advise the patient against any intense physical labor, but he didn’t think Oakenshield was in the position to follow it. So there was only one thing left to do at this point. They were headed back for the Mathom House.