Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters; wish I did, but not that lucky and not rich enough to buy them.

Hope you enjoy. This is my first fan fiction, but don't be gentle. R+R!

Don't commit suicide without help….

Pippin sat beside a large, shady tree, turning his dagger over and over in his hands. He couldn't help but cry; it had been his fault, after all. He was the fool of the group…. like Gandalf said, just a 'fool of a took', and he hadn't learned his lesson well enough before someone got killed. Back in the Shire, his foolishness would have gotten him at most a good embarrassment, but this was in no way the Shire. The entire course of their journey was thrown off because of him.

For the first time, he seriously looked at what he held; a dagger. It was small, but then again, very long. Long enough to pierce his own heart, if he meant to. He ran a finger along the blade very gently, feeling the rough steel that could take his life. But…something held him back for the moment- thoughts of Merry, Frodo, and Sam plagued his mind and soul, and he wondered how they would react if they found him dead in the morning sunlight.

Frodo had been watching the younger hobbit for a few minutes now. He could see the pain and hesitation in his eyes, and knew that he must intervene. He was scared for Pippin, terrified, rather. He stood and walked to him, and Pippin looked up in surprise.

What does he want? Does he want to scold me, too? Pippin thought as Frodo sat down next to him, and when he opened his mouth to speak, Pippin fully expected 'fool of a took' to be spat out as if a curse.

"If you're going to kill yourself, you may want to choose a less painful method."

Pippin face contorted in horror as Frodo fell silent for a moment, and then took his dagger and studied it as he spoke again.

"It's much too bloody, also. Don't want you leaving a mess here for the elves to clean up. Besides, it would be an awfully slow way to die, not at all as pleasant as you must wish. I would offer you Sting, but I really think you should just hang yourself. Hopefully you'll break your neck when you hit the bottom of the rope. Quick and clean."

Pippin's mouth was hanging open now, absolutely stunned by what his cousin was saying. Was he serious? Did he really want him to commit suicide so he wouldn't leave a 'mess' for them to 'clean up'?

Frodo took an Elvin rope out of his pack and handed it to Pippin.

"Don't scream on the way down. The elves wouldn't appreciate a disturbance as such. Do you want me to tie the knot for you?"

Pippin sat in stunned silence, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. Frodo was serious; he had to be. But why…

"Well, come on. Let's get it over with. Hurry up." Frodo suddenly grabbed his wrists and pulled him to his feet. Pippin stood with his gaze at the ground, trying desperately to find some way out of this.

Frodo couldn't help it anymore. Pippin looked up, and when he did, Frodo smiled at him, and pulled him close. Pippin finally understood, and Frodo ruffled his hair playfully.

"Is that what you wanted me to say, Pippin? Or Merry, or Sam; is that what you expected?"

Pippin smiled for the first time in a long while, and then broke down into a mixture of laughter and sobs. He buried his face in Frodo's jacket, embarrassment and amazement taking hold of him.

"I should hate you for that." He muttered, pulling away and playfully punching Frodo's shoulder.

"But you don't. And if Gandalf were here, he wouldn't hate you either. Nothing is as you expect it to be, Pip."

Pippin looked into his cousin's eyes, and finally understood.

For the rest of their days in Lothlorien, Pippin grieved for Gandalf, but every time suicide came to mind, he thought- is the method clean?