A/N: I started this fic several years ago but my studies got in the way, I'm restarting it with the help of my beta Out of Books and rewriting everything. New readers, welcome, old readers… sorry!

A/N 2: Reviews are always lovely, you can also keep up to date with the fic on tumblr, with more notes on research and general Tolkien-y stuff HealingHandsFic tumblr com

I sat and stared at the blank page in front of me, who would have thought that the pale perfection of a new page in a new journal could be so intimidating? No one is ever going to bother reading this. I chided myself gently. The book was a gift, given to me by a dear friend who had promised there was a certain healing to be found in laying down the details of an adventure, of letting the words pour from you into the forgiving pages of a journal. I took a deep and forced myself to form the first words of my story.

Unlike many tales, mine begins with an ending…

Oo0oO

The jarring beeping of my alarm clock forced me out of the warm cocoon of blankets and had me stumbling across my bedroom floor to shut off its shrill noise. A quick glance out the window showed the faint glow of the sun touching the western clouds as twilight beckoned in the dark cloak of the evening.

Blearily stumbling into the bathroom, I peered at my reflection in the mirror. Working nights at the hospital didn't suit me at all; I'd seen corpses less pale. I grimaced and poked the dark circles under my eyes pondering if it was worth hiding them with makeup: I doubted it. Exasperated with my woeful appearance I sighed out loud and sought the comfort of a hot shower.

I was still three years away from qualifying in my specialty, which translated to being given the worst shifts in the most overstretched departments, doctors fresh out of university were passed around the hospital to fill in the gaps in timetabling that nobody wanted to. So here I was, getting ready to spend Saturday night in Accident and Emergency, busy didn't begin to cover it, it was going to be a warzone.

I should probably introduce myself, I'm Doctor Eleanor Pierce, Ellie to practically everyone. I'm 24 and working towards a speciality in paediatrics; though at the moment I was treating both adults and children. I'm not very tall, generally it doesn't bother me but at 5'2" there is no dignified way to reach the top shelf, the student years of not bothering to cook for myself or go to the gym had left me curvy, if not a little on the fat side but that was slowly disappearing with a regime of fourteen hour shifts and running around the hospital from patient to patient.

My dark brown hair was curly and it was often in wild disarray, the practical thing to do would have been to have it cut short, but I'd never quite been able to bring myself to do it. I raked my fingers through its length and tied it up into messy bun. My eyes are green, especially when they're unattractively bloodshot from lack of sleep, as they were at that moment.

I locked the door to my flat and set off for the hospital at a brisk pace, it was within walking distance which almost made up for its cramped size, almost. But finding a new flat was way down on my 'to do' list, I hadn't had time to see anyone outside of work in weeks.

It was now fully dark and the night air was chilly, the street-lights bathed the pavements in glowing pools but made the shadows in between more pronounced, something about the darkness was unnerving, I quickened my pace.

Within minutes the brightly lit hospital came into view and a wailing ambulance streaked past me, I felt the building tension drain away, the hospital was safe ground, it was practically home. I headed across the darkened car park towards Accident and Emergency.

It was then that he struck, I shouldn't have let my guard down when I caught sight of the hospital, but I did. I screamed but nobody heard, another noise lost in the hubbub of the busy hospital. No one even looked our way and in the semi-darkness I saw a flash of metal. The breath was knocked out of me and I doubled over clutching my stomach as my handbag was yanked away. The man took off at a sprint and I stumbled after him, losing my footing after just a few steps. I tried to get up but my limbs felt impossibly heavy, in the light cast off from the hospital I saw that my hand was coated with my own blood, it was almost black in the dimness.

I stared at it in astonishment for several heartbeats, I was bleeding, I watched expanding pool of blood on the tarmac in a daze.

"Help...Help me!" "I called, but like a dream, no one in the bright lights so very close by heard my meagre scream. It's a strange feeling, watching your own life slip away, I tried and failed to sit up and stem the flow of blood.

A dark chill settled over me, blotting out the bright lights of the hospital and dragging me into its icy embrace. I was a doctor, the sensible part of my mind registered that I was going into deep shock, that with a loss of consciousness, death would surely follow. I fought the darkness, kicking out and was rewarded with a brief glimpse of the lights once more before I was drowning, dragged into the darkness. The coldness was fading, everything was fading. Even as my world faded to black and my life slipped away, I remember my last thought with absolute clarity - not yet, please not yet.