I don't really know if this will be read. I mean, it's an AU with an OC. But I can't help it. Inspired by a rekindled love of Being Human and the fact that Kili was also my favorite dwarf in the book. Possibly because he's only the equivalent to an eighteen-year-old in dwarf years, which is considered a minor for dwarves, and that makes everything sadder. Also the cover photo, who's the girl and a project I had in a computers class.

The university is made up.

Owen: Ori

Gilbert: Gloin

Warning: possible OOC in the beginning, but it makes sense as to why. Also it was written at two in the morning. Spare me.

Reincarnation. So, the focus isn't entirely on the romance because Kili's trying to figure out what's wrong with his brain. Also he and Thorin and Bilbo are the only three to keep their original names.

Disclaimer: only own Shay.

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Kili has a dream he's about to be stepped on by a giant spider.

He wakes suddenly and it takes him a moment to remember that he's in his dorm room bed, the storm outside nowhere near touching him and no spiders anywhere close to him. Even so, he feels the lingering pain of imagined injuries and he knows he's not getting anymore sleep tonight. 3:06 his cell phone reads. God, does he hate his life. Owen is sleeping peacefully on the other side of the room, undisturbed, which is good. This means Kili didn't scream.

Quietly, he slips out of his covers and drops himself to the floor. Though it's still summer, it's cold and he pulls on the sweater that hangs over his chair. They aren't even out of Orientation yet and already the nightmares are getting worse. He's been staying in New York City since July first with his uncle, his brother not even an hour away in New Jersey, and though the dreams hadn't disappeared entirely, they'd lessened. Now he's in school away from Uncle Thorin who'd put up with getting woken up in the wee hours of the morning with a patience that surprised him. It wasn't at all like Mam, who would get him back on medication if he wasn't allergic to anything medicinal. When he got really desperate, he took Benadryl, which is pretty much the only thing he can handle, but he doesn't have access to it here.

Deciding that hanging out in the room won't do him any good, he goes outside, snagging his mug off his desk as he leaves and shutting both the room door and the suite door as soundlessly as he can manage. The carpet keeps his bare feet from being too cold, but he still thinks that he should've grabbed socks. In his exhausted state though, he isn't up for anything. He walks to the quiet study automatically for the third night in a row, deciding to use the coffee maker and and Stop & Shop brand that he keeps hidden in the unused drawer even though he knows he can't keep doing this to himself. Last time led to a break down so bad it took his brother forty-five minutes to bring him back to reality and he doesn't fancy the idea of getting labeled crazy.

The hallway is deserted, which comes as a relief. In a few rooms he still hears the drunken laughter, but considering people starting partying at about five, most are probably sick by this point. The quiet study's light is still off and that hopefully means no one's in there. He opens the door and enters, and finds himself genuinely surprised.

Because there's someone else in here already.

Pale eyes snap up to his brown ones and he sees that it's a girl. The moonlight streaming through the windows throws her face in sharp relief, revealing short, messy hair and fine features. There's a mug in her hand along with a can of coffee and a bottle of creamer next to the communal coffee pot. Apparently he isn't the only insomniac.

For a moment, the two of them just stare at each other. Then the girl says, "Are you in here for coffee?" There's a slight accent on the world coffee, the 'o' coming out as for of an 'aw' sound. Since he isn't America, he can't tell exactly what it is, but it sounds like similar to the way Filly's neighbors talk.

In his own tired state, it takes him a moment to comprehend that one short sentence. "Yeah," he answers, "but if you want me to leave, that's okay."

"No, it's fine," she tells him. "I'm not stealing a public place. You can use the coffee that's left in the pot and creamer if you don't want it black. The spoon's the sink."

"You sure?" He's desperate enough to drink it black, sure, but that doesn't mean he likes it. She nods and he has just enough left in him to remember the manners his family's drilled into his head. "Thanks."

"Can't sleep?" she asks and he really doesn't mind the idea of talking to someone. Kili, like his brother, is talkative and on normal days energetic as hell. Both his mom and his uncle are so serious and apparently his dad was too so he has no idea where he and Filly got this from.

As he pours the hazelnut into his coffee, he says, "Pretty much. You?"

"Nightmare."

The spoon clatters into the sink again louder than he intends and he turns around. Despite being somewhat of an exception on the grounds of being the youngest and quite possibly insane, he grew up learning never to tell anyone what's wrong. To put up a front like everything's perfect unless it's family. So this blatant admittance comes as something of a surprise. "Me too," he tells her because she said it first. That, and he's tired and slow and feels the compulsive need to talk.

She blinks at him. Once. Twice. He can't tell the exact color of her eyes or hair. "What of?" she asks. Uncle Thorin and Mam would call it nosy; he calls it curious. "And you can sit, if you want."

He joins her and takes a snip of the coffee. It's lukewarm, but he instantly feels a little more away. Not that this is saying much. "I don't remember most of it," he says, running his fingers through his curls. It must be a wreck right now but he's never been one to care much anyway. He gets girls without even trying. "I think it had to do with getting cased by a giant spider, but I'm not sure."

"Arachnophobic?" He nods. "I'm allergic."

The hazelnut makes this perfect. "That sucks," he says. "What was yours?"

The girl looks down at her mug and she adjusts the way she's sitting, one elbow on the table. "I don't remember much either," she answers and lets out a sound that's half way between a short laugh and a sigh. "Just a lot of red and someone shouting Chava."

"Is that your name?" he says and slumps back against the uncomfortable plastic chairs.

"No," she says. "That's why it makes no sense. You're Irish, right?" He nods, not sure what it has to do with the question but deciding to just run with it. "Well, my name's Shay. I know it's a guy's name in Ireland, but I'm Jewish so it's short to Shayna."

Back in his hometown, he has a neighbor named Shay who's the most flamboyant gay man he's ever met. "My brother's name is Fievel, but we aren't Jewish. My dad got it from that movie with the mouse. Kids made fun of him though, so we just call him Filly." Again, he brushes his hair from his face. It flops back into place and he gives up. "Kind of confusing, though, since then it's Kili and Filly, but whatever." And he's feeling silly and stupid, so he stands and gives a mock bow. "Kili Durin, at your service."

This time it's an actual laugh and as he sits back down, he decides he likes the sound. It's high pitched but clear and cuts through the darkness of the room. "Shay Pasternak, at your service," she answers, standing too and curtsies before sitting back down. Because of the lighting, he can only see half her smile. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Kili."

He raises his mug. "Cheers." The coffee has changed from lukewarm to cold. "Where are you from?" he adds. "You have a different accent than everyone else."

With a roll of her eyes, Shay says, "New Jersey. Ask me to repeat any words and I might have to kill you."

"You've been getting it too?"

"People pointing out the way I talk every ten seconds? Yup."

For the past three days, people have been asking him to repeat certain words to the point that it was starting to get on his nerves. And it takes a lot to annoy him. Kili has a very set way to face everything - cheerful, laid-back, and a little reckless. But this is his fourth night in a row without sleeping more than an hour and it's making him unnervingly irritable.

"Should I expect to see you in here more often?"

He shrugs. "Maybe," he says and finishes the coffee, cringing at the unwanted temperature. "Are you in often?"

"I'm a night owl," she answers, lips flicking up into half a smile, "and the nightmares are chronic."

"Do you scream?"

"No. Do you?"

"No."

They fall silent and he's half asleep again now that the coffee's gone. The microwave clock lets him know that forty minutes has passed since he first got himself out of bed. Odds are that Owen's still sleeping soundly, unaware this his roommate is trying to find a way out of his own head. Back home, before Filly went off to university in England, his brother would be there when he woke up and listened to him babble for those few moments before he actually gained awareness, trying to get him to calm down. Until this summer, having one two nights in a row was considered strange. And during the summer it'd only happened three times.

Four in a row isn't a record he'd like to continue.

After a bit, he asks, "Do you think you'll be able to go back to sleep?"

Underneath her eyes are bruised-like exhaustion that he thought were shadows at first. "No," she says. "Why?"

"Well, we have about three hours until the D.C. opens for breakfast, and four before the new orientation thing starts," he answers. "We can do something until then and then go eat. If you don't have plans."

"I don't. Give me twenty minutes to get ready beforehand, though."

"Sure."

In the end, they turn on the lights and play Gin with a deck of cards found in the drawer and when they rejoin later for breakfast, he doesn't feel tired anymore.

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Earlier this year, Filly described college friendships as fast-forming and intense. Even so, Kili isn't prepared for how quickly it happens.

It's two in the afternoon the Saturday before classes start, three days since they first spoke in the quiet study, and the last orientation group meetings have just let out. He's reaching for his phone, ready to call her and see if she wants to join him and Owen for lunch, when he suddenly hears, "Kili!"

He turns in just enough time to nearly be knocked over by Shay practically launching herself at him. Their rather large height difference means that she can't quite get him around the neck without needing to be caught, but he has to admire her effort anyway.

"So you did it?" he asks, setting her back down as she scrambles to unfold the thin yellow paper in his hand. "How many did you get transferred?"

The sunlight makes her hair look red and his ADD is kicking in, the color distracting. "All of them," she answers and hands over the paper. It's type that goes underneath the other piece as sort of receit. Declaration of Major and Minor it reads. Shay's a history major too. "Jesus, you're two credits away from being a sophomore."

"And since I'm taking that fifth class this semester, I'll be able to start next year as a junior," she adds, tucking the paper back and refolding it. As she slips it into her pocket, she adds, "This means I don't have to take math!"

For some reason, he didn't need to fight for the credits he already came in with, so he's only about a semester behind. Either way, graduating early saves money and he's perfectly all right with the idea of not having to pay loans for the rest of his life. As an international student, he got almost a full ride anyway. "Lucky," he says and she grabs his sleeve, pulling him in the direction of the D.C. and he's okay with this. Like most guys, Kili likes food. Unfortunately, the school doesn't really seem to like him. On top of not sleeping, he's spent the past week throwing up being he can't stomach whatever's put in the food. "But really, that's great."

She glances up, smile a tad too wide on her small face. "Only thing to make it better would be curly fries."

"Or something that actually tastes like real food at the vegan place," he adds because that's the only thing he can eat by this point. Along with the made-right-there omelettes at breakfast and the flatbread pizza if he's lucky. For about the thousandth time in his life, he thinks that he isn't meant to be this, well, delicate but it runs in the family.

Along with, thankfully, an incredibly high tolerance for alcoholic beverages.

As she lets go of his shirt and falls into step with him, she says, "You'll adjust to it eventually. Mom said that happened to her when she first went off to college. But that was just her being weird. You've got an actual thing, right?"

He nods. "No idea what it is, though," he says, "but I've had it since was a kid. Filly has something similar. No one knows why."

They reach the D.C., joining the long line of hungry students, and Kili pulls his ID from his pocket. Eventually he'll have to think of a better place to put it, but he's procrastinating. University student at its finest right there.

"That sucks," she says, stepping behind him in line. "So, are you going to that stupid end-of-orientation party thing tonight or skipping?"

He swipes his card to get in and she does a moment after. "Skipping if I can hide from my RA," he answers and they slip past a huddled group of girls standing right in the entrance. Normally he isn't the type to pick up on these sort of things, but he's noticed that some girls try a lot harder than others. Like those five who're all wearing short skirts and lace shirts of varying colors, which is completely different from Shay who's wardrobe seems to consist of shorts and t-shirts. "Do you mind eating with -"

Before he can finish, his phone goes off, signaling a text. "Eat with who?" Shay says after a moment where he doesn't finish his question.

As he texts back he answers, "I was going to say Owen, but apparently his brother called about fire - whatever that means - so he'll have to skip out on us again."

For the past few days Owen had been trying to pull of the whole "roommate bonding" thing but something always stopped it, which meant their relationship didn't extend much past late night video games. He and his roommate didn't have a whole lot in common, so there wasn't much to talk about. Actually, Owen didn't talk much in general and he was as about as nervous around everything in the world as Kili was about spiders...and yet still tried to pretend being brave. Kili was making sure a horror movie was never put anywhere near that guy. Or drinking or drugs or any manner of anything that could cause some sort of reaction. To put it simply, the boy's neurotic.

And he thought nightmares were bad enough.

"Do you want to come with me to CVS after this?" he asks, accidently interrupting Shay before she even gets the words out, and they head off to the pizza area. He's decided to risk it today and it's a good thing he become friends with a vegetarian or this would be so much worse. "I need more coffee. Mind walking?"

Shay shrugs and takes a piece of pizza before heading off in the direction of the soda and tortilla chips. Since he's decided to actually attempt real pizza today (though according to Jersey girl here it actually sucks but in Ireland it's even worse) he's just sticking to one slice and a cup of ginger ale. Hopefully the small amount will save his stomach.

She tells him, "I need to get more creamer anyway. I came here with half a bottle and sharing with you made me run out pretty fast."

"I can buy it," he says. "You know, pay you back. Or we can share."

They grab the nearest free seats, which happen to be the counter top near the grill. "Sure," she answers. "We can swap between whoever gets the coffee too. Which means we just need creamer today since I still have coffee left."

He nods absentmindedly and takes a bite. It really isn't all that terrible, though from the face his friend makes he can see the feeling isn't mutual. It's almost funny, really; she's complained several times about the food in Massachusetts so far out of Boston is nothing in comparison to her area. Something about more diversity and real Italians. Both with his brother and his uncle, he'd had home cooked means which weren't really all that good. His older cousin Gilbert is the only on in the family currently in America who has any talent in the kitchen and even then, it's mostly Irish food.

When they finish, they put away their dishes and grab frozen yogurt as they leave. Shay walks the raise tar on the side of the road like a balance beam on their trip to CVS. The air is hot and muggy and uncomfortable compared to Ireland, but for the first time all week, he isn't bothered at all.

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Review if you read it please! I quite like those. And I swear it'll get more interesting. I really have to stop writing with a headache.

Also, I'm mildly dyslexic so sorry for the mistakes.