This is the first fanfic I wrote for FrodoHealers. Febobe, this is dedicated to you. I hope you like it!

Characters: Frodo, Sam, an OC named Iona, Merry, Pippin, brief appearance by Aragorn.

Summary: Frodo falls dangerously ill on the way from Minas Tirith to the Shire. Post-quest.

Rating information and cautions: There is no sex, slash, or profanity in this, as according to FrodoHealers standards. There are, however, some semi-graphic details of wounds and the like, so if you are terribly squeamish (as in, seeing the word blood makes you feel sick), then I advise you not to read this.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Minas Tirith...etc. Tolkien does.

Notes: This story may get a little confusing. It is entirely written in first person, but Chapter One is written from Frodo's point of view, and most of the others are from Sam's, and there will be one or two with other characters. But as you read, you shouldn't have trouble finding out who is talking.

Thanks for reading! Enjoy!

~CHAPTER ONE~

It all started happening some time after the quest. It had been almost two months since the horrid climb up that mountain, and all of the terrible things that had come with it, and I thought that I had fully recovered; in body, if not in spirit. So it cam as a surprise to me when I awoke one morning with a terrible pain in my shoulder, the one that had been stabbed by the morgul blade so long ago. Now, I did occasionally have a bit of pain in that shoulder, but this was different, worse. Still, I didn't think much of it, I thought it would feel better as the day went on, like it usually did.

But it didn't. It only got worse and worse. But there was no way I was going to be sick that day. Because that was the day Sam, Merry, Pippin, and I were going back to the Shire to visit family and friends. Aragorn had given us a wagon and we were packing our things up to leave Minas Tirith. Everything was in order, and we were ready to go, and I wasn't about to say I didn't feel well. Because, if I did, Sam would insist we didn't go today, and I knew that he was really looking forward to seeing Rosie. And, besides, I wasn't going to faint or anything like that.

So, while we packed and got ready to go, I kept my pain a secret, even though it was killing me to do so. But I could tell Sam thought something was wrong-He always seems to know when something's wrong with me-because he kept asking me, "Are you alright, Mr. Frodo?" "Do you need to rest, Mr. Frodo?" I always replied to all of his inquiries that I had never felt better, even though that was one of the biggest lies I ever told. Sam just shrugged obviously not believing me. But it was going to be alright. I was just the usual shoulder pain I'd had since weathertop. And I was sure it'd soon pass, like it had all the other times. But I was wrong.

We continued with our trip as planned. Sam was driving the wagon, and Merry and Pippin were in the back. I was sitting on the back of the wagon, my feet hanging off the edge. I was beginning to feel a bit queasy, as usual. My shoulder hurt more with every bump we went over, and by now, eight hours after we started, it wasn't just my shoulder. It was most of my body. And I had started getting the chills on top of that when Pippin remarked, "Hey Sam, you might want to stop the wagon for a little while. Frodo's turning a pretty shade o' green."

I didn't like riding much, and I usually got sick, so I guess Sam didn't take much notice of Pip's comment, because all he did was slow the horse a bit. But then Merry said, "He's shaking real bad too."

Well, that was enough to cause Sam to yank the reins and throw himself from the wagon seat and run around back to me. He took one look at me and started. The last thing I heard was his worried voice. "Mr. Frodo! can you hear me? What happened?" Then I did exactly what I said I wouldn't do.

I fainted cold on the ground.

~To be Continued~