Chapter Text
Bilbo had always had these dreams where he was taller. Where he lived in the outskirts of a city. Where he was an army doctor. Where he got shot in the shoulder. Where he met a man that was as smart as a whip and could be as cruel as one as well. Where his name was John Watson.
When Bilbo was young, they were just that. Dreams. They didn't stick fully in his mind. They were only fuzzy memory like images and feelings. Instincts.
He grew older, became handy with plants, especially those that could heal. He flinched when there was a sudden loud noise. He could sense when danger was near. When the Fell Winter came, it was he who told his parents to stay home that day. Don't go out. It's dangerous . Bungo left anyways, when he heard screams from down the road. Belladonna would have left too, if it weren't for the resignation on her sons face. Years later, When Belladonna was on her deathbed, Bilbo whispered to her that everyone he loves leaves him. She whispered back that he had to be patient. As he grew older, Bilbo became wiser than the other fellow hobbits his age. He had come up with different medicines that would cure colds and bring down fevers quicker than what was already used. He also invented different surgery techniques. Cutting into people with internal injuries. Saving them.
Bilbo never had a clear image of his life as John Watson, never was awake when he got glimpses of these memories until a year before his fiftieth birthday.
The night he turned forty-nine, he woke up, gasping in bed and a name on his lips.
Sherlock.
For seven months, Bilbo did not only vividly dream of what he assumed to be a past life. Maybe a future life. He would have flashbacks during his waking hours. He would be sitting down to have tea and find himself making two cups. He would find himself rubbing at his shoulder in the colder days and would have developed a slight limp. When someone would bring attention to it, Bilbo would look surprised, sometimes angered, but brush it off, saying he had stepped on a nail, stubbed his toe, dropped a cooking pot on his foot. Whatever excuse came to mind first.
That all changed when he met Thorin Oakenshield and Company.
*****
The first dwarf that entered was a rude brute that ate his supper, but Bilbo's ingrained manners kept him from throwing the lump named Dwalin on his arse to the doorstep. Then came his brother, Balin, who was a bit more polite, but still rude. They were dwarves after all, Bilbo thought to himself.
After that, the pattern was partially broken.
The two dwarves standing in front of him were looking at him with bright, grateful eyes.
‘Doctor Watson!” The dark haired one chirped with a beaming smile. The fair haired one grinned at him. “Fee, it's Doctor Watson!”
Bilbo froze, holding his breath and not responding. The two dwarves in front of him slowly lost their grins before turning to each other with wide eyes.
“Maybe he doesn't remember?” The blonde told the other.
Bilbo quickly shook himself and walked closer to the two boys. “How do you know that name?” He whispered. The dark haired one smiled cautiously before saying something that blew Bilbo's mind.
“We were clients of Mr. Holmes.”
Bilbo's heart stopped, his face contorting into a picture of agony for a split second that the two dwarves didn't miss.
“He helped save our mum.” ‘Fee’, said.
Bilbo thought back to his dreams and memories and spoke a pair of names.
“Philip and Kiligan. They preferred-”
“Kili and Fili.” They both said. Then they bowed low.
“At your service!”
Bilbo smiled softly and stepped aside. Both boys instantly came in and started to unequipped themselves. “Ah! Please put your weapons here and wipe your boots off!” Bilbo said quickly when he saw Kili about to scrape the mud off on his mother's glory box. Kili stopped, balancing on one foot for a moment before putting his foot down. “Sorry Doctor Watson.”
“It's Bilbo. Baggins.” Bilbo said, looking confused for a moment. “I'm called Bilbo Baggins here.”
Fili and Kili nodded their heads before Dwalin stuck his head out of the kitchen. “Dwalin!”
“Come on lads. Help us move the table! Not near enough room for the rest of us.”
Bilbo's mind went blank for a moment. “Rest of us?”
Fili looked back at Bilbo. “Of course! Didn't the wizard tell you?”
“Mr. Boggins, it's going to be so much fun!” Kili said, grabbing his brothers arm and pulling him into the kitchen.
“It's Baggins.” Bilbo said half heartedly. Another knock at the door had him turning around, looking at the round green wood warily. With a huff of air, Bilbo limped over to it and pulled it open, watching with a bit of amusement as eight dwarves tumbled on the floor at his feet with a wizard standing at the rear, guffawing.
“Get off me ya great lump!” A red haired dwarf was shoving at a grey haired one with similar looks.
“Gandalf.” Bilbo sighed.
After everyone was up and standing, Bilbo took control of the situation, or as much as he could. “Alright, please place your weapons in this corner here, you're boots over here and hang your coats up over there.” There was grumbling and shoving involved, but they all did as they were told, Bilbo noted a tad bit smug.
Then he lost control again.
“Those are my plates! Please... careful! Not my wine, Not my wine! Put that back! I say, put that back! You can't use that chair, it's an antique! My grandpa Mungos! Please don't take my jam!”
In the midst of the chaos, Bilbo kept seeing things. Glimpses of certain mannerisms and familiar faces in some of the dwarves- sorry, dwarrow, as he was corrected by a stuttering Ori who asked to browse his books and maps. Bilbo’s face softened for a moment at the uncertainty that reminded him of Molly the pathologist.
“Yes, but be careful! Some of those maps and tomes have been passed down for generations!”
“Yes Mister Bilbo! Thank you!” Ori said with a huge grin before rushing into the library. Bilbo sighed again for what seemed to be the millionth time before getting swept away once more. When everyone sat down to eat, Bilbo did not join them; didn't even stay in the same room. He continued seeing faces from London in some of them and he didn't want to make a scene. His leg was screaming at him suddenly and his left hand wouldn't stop trembling. Gandalf caught sight of the hobbit staring at his pantry and came over.
“Bilbo, why don't you rest your leg?”
“Damn my leg!” He spat. The clatter in the hall died down for a moment before starting up again, quieter than before. Then a voice spoke up from the doorway. A voice that….
“Gandalf, would you like us to save you any food for later?”
Bilbo closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them and turning around. There stood a dwarf with long hair, styled in a way that resembled a star with his eyebrows braided and very intricate braids in his beard and mustache. It was his eyes; that very pale colour that seemed to shine between blue and green and grey. Those eyes that held so much intelligence and brightness and even slight naivety. Those eyes that looked at Bilbo with….
“No, thank you, Nori. I believe that what I had will suffice for tonight.” Nori nodded sharply before he spun around, walking back to the others.
Bilbo took a few deep breaths, trying to control his heartbeat that was racing and felt like it would beat out of his chest and into that hall full of dwarrow. When he finally calmed himself he opened his eyes to see Ori again.
“Mr. Bilbo, what should I do with my plate?” The younger dwarf asked, holding up the empty plate.
“Give it here, Ori!” Fili called, taking it and throwing it to Kili.
What follows should have driven Bilbo mad, but just made him crack a smile. While his mother’s fine china was getting tossed around like it was children's toys, The Hobbit made an attempt at being stern and putting a stop to it all. Instead, they started singing and by the end of it, all the dishes were cleaned and stacked on the counter neatly. They all start laughing then, Bilbo chuckling along, unintentionally meeting Nori’s eyes that, at that moment, shone like the sun.
Then came three loud knocks at the door. Bilbo ripped his gaze away from Nori and walked to the door. Gandalf was already opening the door, letting a dark haired dwarf in. Bilbo didn't play very much attention to him when he felt Nori’s presence behind him. Then, all he could focus on was the same presence that had surrounded him for years back in another time. When Nori nudged his shoulder gently, Bilbo snapped back to attention. “Sorry?”
“Bilbo Baggins, I would like you to meet the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.”
Bilbo studied the new dwarf, then he studied him. He was wearing very nice clothes. Nicer than the others. He was important. His sword hilt was worn as he unclasped his coat and the weapon became visible. He was a fighter. Bilbo noted his boots were well worn, but looked to be somewhat new. Well traveled, then. His chainmail was dirty, Bilbo could make out scratches all over it. He was attacked, recently. Then he looked at his face.
The lines around the dwarfs eyes were deep, telling of years of struggle and stress. His eyes showed stress as he bundled his cloak in his hands, which Bilbo saw were scarred and had rings. One in particular caught his eye then.
“You are a king.” Bilbo stated.
Thorin stepped closer to the hobbit. “Yes, I am. What of it?”
Bilbo looked back at Nori and saw pride in his eyes.
“Nothing. It's- It's really nothing, I just-”
“Axe or sword?”
“E-excuse me?” Bilbo stuttered, looking back at Thorin.
“What is your weapon of choice?”
“Um, if you must know,” Bilbo said, annoyed at the rudeness of this dwarf, “I have some skills at Conkers, but I fail to see how that is relevant.”
“Thought as much. Looks more like a grocer than a burglar.”
That’s it.
“Burglar? No, I am no burglar. I am a healer. A damn good one. Before you go writing people off, you should know them first, at least a bit. Now while I am a healer, I can cause you more pain in your body just by pressing on a bit of skin and nerves with my finger. I know how to cut you open and make it so you won't bleed out and die, but I can also cut you open and save you from a knife to the gut. I can throw a pebble at you in such a way that it could kill you instantly, or I could aim a bit higher or lower and only knock you out. Now, we have established that you are a king, but you are not my king, and you are being very rude to someone who has opened his doors and pantry to your company, fed them and, if wanted, a place to rest.”
No one spoke for a moment before Kili let out a small giggle. Fili hushed him, a small smile on his face. Thorin looked furious, not quite glaring at the hobbit, so much as analysing him before nodding his head in acknowledgement.
“Now, why don't we all go sit down and talk about our plans.” Gandalf cajoled, turning around towards the table. A few grumbles sounded but they all did what they were told, following behind the grey robes. Only Bilbo was left behind in the entryway. He paced the floor for a moment, doing some simple breathing exercises to calm himself down before joining the others.
A lot of things have happened in a very short amount of time, Bilbo noted. Then he thought back to when he was John Watson. A lot of things happened in a short time then too, he thought, thinking of Moriarty and Sherlock on top of St. Barts roof. Of going from having a nice flat and a best friend to being by himself and moving to a bedsit, Baker Street becoming too expensive for him and the memories, both good and bad being too much for him. Now he has found his best friend again, or rather, Sherlock had found him. His house has been overrun by dwarrow. A dwarrow king is in his house! And Bilbo described a few ways that he could both kill him and save him! Oh dear!
“Oh dear!” Bilbo moaned out softly.
“Mr. Boggins? Are you coming?” Kili asked, sticking his head into the entryway.
“Yes, yes just give me a moment.” Bilbo said quietly. Kili walked over and placed a hand on the hobbits shoulder.
“Did you know that Mr. Holmes-” Kili whispered.
“I know.” Bilbo breathed out. “His eyes are...just the same.”
Kili squeezed his shoulder before nudging him towards the hall where the table was. “Come on. Nori saved you a plate.”
Bilbo cracked a smile. “So he actually eats in this world then?”
Kili laughed. “I remember reading your blogs, how he was difficult to convince to eat.” Bilbo laughed too.
“Yes well, he ate more often when we moved into the country.”
“To keep bees, aye?”
“Yes. It was his dream job after being a consulting detective. Couldn't have said no to the face he made when he told me.”
“I’d like to hear more about that,” Kili told him.”So would Fili.”
“I’ll tell you two more later.” Bilbo told him, walking into the hall.
“What news from Ered Luin? Did they all come?” Balin asked Thorin as he ate a plate of leftovers. When Bilbo took a seat against the wall, Fili came over with another plate and passed it over with a smile. Bilbo smiled in thanks, keeping one ear in on the conversation being had in front of him. He didn't speak until he heard the word quest.
“You’re going on a quest?” Bilbo inquired.
“Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light.”
Bilbo scowled at Gandalf. He just started eating and this was his house, not the wizards! Kili jumped up. “I’ll get some candles! Where are they?” The dark haired dwarf looked to Bilbo with a grin. Bilbo nodded in thanks.
“Just in the drawer of the table down the hall.” Bilbo said, pointing in the direction. Kili was off like a shot and back just as fast with a handful of candles and their holders. He quickly set them up on the table and they all watched in awe as Gandalf lit them with his magic. Then he watched as the wizard pulled a map out of his robes and laid it out on the table. Bilbo finished his foord swiftly and leaned in between Gandalf and Thorin. “The Lonely Mountain?”
Bilbo listened as they talked about portents and dragons. He watched as Ori proclaimed that he wasn't afraid and the others yelling in agreement: he couldn't help but think of Mycroft when Dori shoved Ori back into his seat with a glance at Nori. Then Dori glanced at Bilbo and the hobbit quickly re-evaluated that claim. Maybe Dori was Mycroft…
Then Kili, bless him, pointed out that Gandalf was a wizard, therefore he must have killed plenty of dragons in his past. Bilbo laughed as the wizard stuttered as all the dwarrow focused on him. Thorin looked at him with a look that screamed ‘how are you going to get out of this now without breaking my company's collective hearts,’ before Balin continued on about no way inside the mountain.
Gandalf handed Thorin a key and Bilbo took in the information passed around. Secret invisible doors, hidden messages in the map, sneaking into a mountain that contains a Dragon….
“And that’s why we need a Burglar!” Ori exclaimed, looking at Bilbo.
“Mmm. A good one too. An expert, I’d imagine,” Bilbo said looking at Nori. Nori stared right back, bringing Doris attention to him sharply before snapping over to the hobbit. Definitely Mycroft then.
“And are you?” Gloin asked
Bilbo looked over to the redhead. “Sorry?”
“He said he’s an expert!” Oin crowed.
“Nope!” Bilbo said cheerfully. “Not a burglar, only a healer and on occasion, a fighter.”
“A fighter?” Thorin said, studying the hobbit. “What truly is your prefered weapon?”
‘A gun’ , Bilbo desperately wanted to say, missing the feeling of cool metal in his palm, the kickback of a bullet being forcefully ejected from the barrel at top speed only to impact in the enemy’s body. The feel of it resting against his back when he walked down the streets of London with Sherlock by his side.
Instead he answered, “I am handy with a slingshot. I can shoot a bow, but not as well. I am passable with a sword.” Bilbo had forced himself to be able to handle other weapons and learn to use them correctly and at the best of his capabilities after the Fell Winter.
“Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet.” Gandalf spoke up. “In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There’s a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he’s got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself.” He then looked imploringly at Thorin. “You must trust me on this.”
“Fine.”
“What?”
“We’ll do it your way.”
“Really, please don't-”
“Balin, give him the contract.”
Bilbo found a roll of parchment shoved in his hands and he stepped back a few paces with a sigh to read it. He found himself reading out loud before a series of words caught his eyes.
“Lacerations… evisceration… incineration?”
“Oh, aye!” Bofur piped up from where he was puffing on his pipe. “Melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye, he will.”
“Mmmhmmm.”
“Think furnace with wings!” Bofur continued. “Flash o’ light, searing pain, then poof! A pile o’ ash!”
At that moment, all Bilbo could picture was Moriarty as a dragon, burning everything and everyone he loved until they were, as Bofur said, a pile of ash.
Everything was suddenly catching up to him, Bilbo realized as he started trembling a bit. Sherlock was somehow here, and possibly Mycroft, which meant anyone else from his old life could very well be in this one too. He could feel himself going into shock then, the last few hours becoming too much for him to handle sober and conscious. So he did the sensible thing any hobbit would do in his situation.
“Yeeaah, no.”
Bilbo took a few steps towards the door before falling in a faint.
*****
“-eally now brother, do you think this wise?”
“Of course not! But he is here! It's been so long!”
“But Nori-”
“Sherlock?” John mumbled, turning his face towards the semi-familiar voice, eyes still closed.
“Right here John.”
Bilbo felt a hand, much thicker than he was used to, slide into his own smaller one. “Guess I’m still shorter than you, huh?”
A gruff laugh huffed it's way out of Sherlocks lungs and for a moment, Bilbo could swear he was in 221B Baker Street after a run through the streets chasing murderers and serial killers. Mrs. Hudson would be downstairs making tea and John and Sherlock would spend the night talking about nothing important, enjoying each others company.
Then he opened his eyes.
Nori was kneeled next to the chair he was sitting in, face showing his concern. “Not Sherlock.”
“I am, I just go by Nori here.” Nori said.
“Yes, he is still Sherlock, trust me in this,” Dori said with a scowl, puffing his pipe. “He gets into almost as much trouble here than he did in London.”
“I’m a thief.” Nori proclaimed proudly.
“Good for you. Can't very well steal crystal ashtrays from Buckingham Palace anymore though.” Bilbo joked.
“He does worse.” Dori complained. “He steals from kings and other very important people.” Nori shrugged and brought a pipe to his mouth. Bilbo noticed it was the pipe Thorin was using at the dinner table and cracked a smile.
“You didn't.” Nori only smirked.
“Good job deducing he was a king, by the way.”
“Yes, well, we should get back. We need to finish planning the path we will take.”
“To the Lonely Mountain?” Bilbo clarified. Nori nodded.
“You will sign the contract, of course.” He stated.
Bilbo stopped and looked hard at Nori. They were still Sherlock’s eyes, even if he went by a different name and had a different face. The longing in them were clear as day for Bilbo. He wanted to go on another adventure with John. Bilbo. Same thing.
How could he deny his best friend that? His secret crush of decades, as they lived together before dying out in the country with Sherlocks bees.
“Yes.” Bilbo said. Nori’s whole face brightened.
“Terrific! Let go!”
Nori dragged Bilbo out of the kitchen with Dori following behind and into the sitting room where everyone else was.
“He will sign.” Nori said, pushing Bilbo in front of Balin and Thorin. Both raised a brow.
“Um, yes. I will. Can I see the contract again?” Bilbo asked slightly meek with all the attention on him.
Thorin looked to Balin who shrugged but passed the roll of parchment over. Bilbo glanced over the rest of the terms before walking over to his desk and signing Bilbo Baggins in ink. He blew on it for a moment before passing it back over to Balin, who glanced over it himself before rolling it up.
“It seems that everything is in order.” Everyone watched as the old dwarf tucked it in his pack with the rest of the contracts. “Welcome, Bilbo Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”
Everyone starts cheering and Bilbo can't help but smile. As they calm down, Thorin starts humming. Slowly, the other dwarrow join in.
“
Far over the Misty Mountains cold….
”