Blinded

by RefugeeofTumblr

Summary:

Artemis' encounter with Spiro at age 13 did not go well. Captured, alone, and imprisoned, the former teenage genius is suddenly given hope when someone from his past re-enters his life in an unexpected way. The scars - mental and physical - that his time in Spiro's grip have left on him still remain, however, and Artemis must come to terms with what has happened or be lost to the past...

Chapter 1

Author's note: Hello all, and welcome to the first part of a story that quite literally played out in a dream. Some content warnings should be in effect, as this story will feature a character going through severe flashbacks, attempting to process the aftermath of physical, mental, and sexual abuse during imprisonment, and other serious mental illnesses such as anxiety and depression. There will be healing and (hopefully) an eventual happy ending, but the process will be difficult, so please know your own limits and heed the content warnings listed here. Specific scene-by-scene warnings will be included before each chapter as it comes out.

Also, purely for full disclosure, A/H will happen eventually.

Chapter One

Artemis allowed himself to collapse onto the sickeningly soft mattress, not even bothering to pull the thin sheets over his body in an attempt at modesty. What would it matter if he did? Spiro had already seen everything he wished he could hide, and in any case the hateful man was gone now; Artemis heard the door slamming shut and locking automatically as his captor left, leaving Artemis there in his cell. He supposed he should be upset about that, but being trapped here had stopped hurting so much after a while. He felt a slight twinge in his gut at the thought - he was used to this place. Relieved, even, when the sounds that meant Spiro was near were gone and the room's normal ambiance took over. How strange.

Artemis took a deep, shuddering breath, releasing it slowly. The worst was over. He just had to ignore the fact that it would happen again tomorrow - in roughly two meal times. The young Irish man loosened his muscles, letting himself feel all the aches and pains, the soreness where he'd been bent almost double to accommodate Spiro's demands. He kneaded the place where his eyes used to be, knuckles brushing over the whitened scars as he stretched away the brunt of the soreness. The gashes clawed into his hips ached. With any luck, he'd be able to find enough energy to move soon. There was a fountain set into the wall that always ran nice and cold, and he needed to use the bathroom.

Throughout it all, the clock mounted above the bathroom door ticked on. One, two- Artemis lost track briefly as a sound echoed through the ducts overhead, then resumed his count. One, two, three… cool air caressed his skin, and he arched closer to the vent, enjoying the sensation after the too-hot touch of unwanted hands. The bathroom could wait a little longer.

So his life went on, as it had for the past six years.

oOoOo

The Spiro Needle was a strange building. Captain Holly Short of LEPrecon wrinkled her nose as she sat atop a stone gargoyle, waiting for Foaly to finish scanning the building through the sensors he'd built into her helmet. Something about the layers upon layers of shiny metal and glass put her off, despite fairy construction underground often taking similar directions. Humans were so strange! The majority of them isolated themselves as much as they could from the tiniest hint of nature, when fairies, who had been living underground for centuries, would give almost anything to feel real surface air and the elements' harsh bite. It wasn't as though there weren't perks to living underground, of course, or nobody in their right minds would, but it galled her to see just how unappreciative the Mud People could be. It was as though they had no idea what freedom they had.

"Holly," Foaly called through her headset. There was an edge to the centaur's voice that brought her out of her thoughts, refocusing on the mission at hand. "I'm pickin' up some strange readings on level sixty-three. There's a room that's absolutely scanproof on the western side. No cables that I can see goin' in, no cables going out - just lighting, air, and water."

A room with almost zero electrics? That was odd for a technology company like Fission Chips. Even the most isolated computing clusters needed power cables to function. Not to mention the fact that high-tech human companies often took full advantage of what their latest inventions could do. It was a practicality thing as much as a pride thing - easier to justify diverting your own stock for company use than buy exactly the things you're trying to sell from another company. Frowning, Holly dropped off the gargoyle, activating her wings and hovering in midair. "Want me to take a look?"

"Yep. Be careful, though. We don't know what's going on here yet."

This definitely confirmed that the strange power surges and signals Foaly's sensors had picked up from afar could be something to be concerned about. Holly's stomach clenched. She was always glad to have the centaur's intellect on her side, but everything about this situation made her anxious. A human technology giant returning strange readings? Readings, moreover, that were dangerously close to signals from fairy technology? It didn't bode well for the People.

She rounded the building, eyes flicking back and forth as she searched out the most likely weak spots in its security. The advantage she had as a fairy, of course, was that humans generally didn't anticipate an attack from above - or below. Who paid full price to have their glass bulletproof all the way to the top of an eighty-six storey building? No one. Not even the more paranoid humans.

Sure enough, Holly found a window that, as luck would have it, had been left cracked open. It was a tight fit - she didn't want to move the window too much - but just enough for her to wiggle through. She'd need to get down to the level below to investigate the mysterious room, but she was in, and without a single alarm going off. So far, so good, and her magical shield would keep her hidden from human and electronic eyes alike as she traversed the corridors. Unless the security guard froze the cameras at precisely the right moment; in that case, if the cameras had a high enough fps rating, they would be able to see her as a still image. That was unlikely, but you never knew with humans. She would have to hurry.

Whatever the case, it never hurt to use your backup if you had it. "Foaly, can you hack their security? Probably won't need you to do anything, but-"

Typing sounded in her ear. "No can do, sweetheart," the centaur admitted after a moment. "They must be on an internal, wire-based system. No broadcasts. I need you to plant a wire of our own before I can access it."

Holly hummed an acknowledgement, scanning the room. No cameras here. It looked to be a medium-sized meeting room, with nothing but a conference table, a large display screen covering the entirety of one wall, and some chairs. She had more luck once she stepped outside, spotting a camera perched on the ceiling to cover the nearby junction where two hallways met. Hovering up to its level, Holly wrapped what looked like an ordinary twist-tie around the cables attached to the camera, making sure the tie had good contact with the cable's surface. Of course, despite appearances, this was not an ordinary twist tie. It was a specialized fibre optic that had been constructed specially to create a gateway for Foaly, allowing him to remotely access whatever system the fibre optic was in contact with. All without the humans ever knowing it was there.

"Alright, we're in," Foaly confirmed a second later. "The wire's working. I'll keep an eye out for anything that might give you trouble, and set it up to scrub you from the feed if you have to unshield."

That left Holly free to explore the area. She was on the western side of floor sixty-four, directly above and to the left of her target. How could she get down there, though? That was the question. Taking the staircase - unless someone happened to walk by and open exactly the right doors for her - was right out. The doors required full palm prints to operate, and even if they hadn't, Holly didn't want to risk letting any humans see a door that appeared to be moving on its own. That kind of thing tended to freak humans right out, whether they were normally the superstitious type or not.

Then Holly noticed the vents that dotted the sparse, white corridor at regular intervals, and her eyes widened in realization. "Wait, those scans you did. Do they show any vents near me that might lead to this room I'm supposed to get into?"

oOoOo

He'd been listening to the odd, distant sounds since he'd first noticed them among the ones he was so used to. They were no longer distant, no longer easy to dismiss as a broken central heating component or fan blade. Artemis lay among the sheets, facing the vent with sightless eyes. There was no mistaking it now. That sound was being caused by something - or someone - making its way towards the metal grate, towards him.

He felt no fear that he was aware of at the prospect, but his body was tense and he could hear his heartbeat thumping madly in his chest. Was he imagining things? Perhaps. People in solitary confinement often went mad, caged so long that they became trapped inside their own minds, depressed and hallucinating. At that point, it didn't matter when their bodies were set free. If they were set free. Yes, he mused inwardly. That would make sense. That would explain why he was hearing something shuffle through the ducts, why he was hearing a hurried whisper-

BANG!

Artemis yelped, jumping at the loud, metallic crash. Pushing himself upright, he strained his senses - either his hallucination was incredibly lifelike, or there was actually someone breaking into his cell. If so, what could they want? There was nothing here apart from... well, him. And the bedclothes, he supposed, if one wanted to get technical, but no thief was going to break into a high-security treasure trove like this to steal sheets.

Nothing else moved for a long moment. Then, just as he began to relax, thinking that maybe he was imagining things after all, a voice sounded directly in front of him.

"By the Gods," it breathed. "It's… Artemis? Is that really you?"

The voice seemed female, and to his surprise, it was familiar. He couldn't quite place it yet, though. "Who are you?" he demanded, vocal cords stiff and uncooperative after long disuse.

He felt the sheets shift as whatever- no, whoever was in front of him came closer. The speaker sucked in a startled breath, then withdrew enough to keep him from sensing (her?) movement.

"It is you. Oh Gods. Foaly, Commander, are you hearing this?"

A jolt flew down Artemis' spine as he processed the words. Of course!

"Captain Short? Holly?" It was as though he was suddenly weightless, thrown off balance and cast into freefall as the world shifted on its axis. He should have realized! The ventilation system had been too narrow for his larger human frame, even when Spiro had first brought him here as a thirteen year old. Holly, however, was the perfect size to squeeze through them, though he couldn't imagine it had been easy or pleasant for her.

She approached again, and this time he reached out for her, unable to stop himself. If this was all a hallucination, he wasn't sure he would be able to bear the disappointment- but then a smaller, slimmer hand met his palm-to-palm, calluses distinct even beneath the smooth surface of the gloves she wore.

"This is real? You're here?" Questions flitted through his mind like restless shadows. Which to ask first? They queued on his tongue, halting it with the weight of indecision.

Holly let out a breathless laugh. "Of course it's real, Mud Boy. But what happened?" A beat. "Your eyes-"

"Spiro," Artemis forced roughly. "I… when he first captured me, I didn't do as I was told." Hands, hands holding him down, and the horrible pain as- No, revisiting that memory was the last thing he needed right now. He could remember it later, when he could hide and make himself small so nobody noticed, so he was safe.

He could have been imagining it, but he thought he felt Holly give his hand a gentle squeeze before she shifted again. Standing up, maybe? Yes, he heard the soft sound of her boots as she paced the room. Not that there was much to pace, of course, but he stayed silent. What use would it be to comment on things she had undoubtedly noticed by now?

Another voice- tinnier this time, as though it was being filtered through speakers. Artemis cocked his head, concentrating. This was Foaly, no doubt. Now that he had reason to call on his incredible memory again, the cadence and tone were immediately recognizable, despite the fact that Foaly sounded far less smug and sarcastic than usual. A tense moment followed as Julius Root's gravelly tones overrode Foaly. The commander seemed none too pleased; Artemis clenched the sheets so tightly in one hand that he could feel his knuckles going white. He hated screaming, yelling, any form of raised voices, and even more than that he hated the pain that came after someone blew up at him.

The three fairies argued back and forth for a moment. Then Holly was back. "Artemis?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you here? Why are you… locked up like this?"

Bile stung the back of his throat. Artemis swallowed it back down. "I approached Spiro with a business proposition. He didn't find the deal satisfactory, so he took what he wanted by force."

"Not that I'm not glad you're alive, but why keep you? Hasn't he got what he wanted?"

"He has…" The tears welling from his damaged tear ducts had to be a dead giveaway, but at least his voice didn't waver as he gestured to the mattress he was sitting on. "Other uses for me."

Silence reigned. Holly let out a shaky breath. Would she be looking at him with pity, he wondered? Compassion, maybe, or disgust? Artemis tried to imagine the look on the elfin captain's face, but it only made him feel even closer to vomiting, so he gave up.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

He turned his head in her direction, brows drawing together, shocked by the question. Of course he wanted to leave!

"If you can get me out, then yes. But I'm not sure how anyone could exit a building like this without being detected."

Voices again; she was talking to Root and Foaly, of course. All Artemis could catch were fragments, and the increasingly angry tone underlying Holly's words.

"Yes, Commander," Holly said at last, voice raised in pique. "I understand that the Council will come to that decision. But, given that it's an incredibly stupid decision, I am electing to ignore it." Then she touched Artemis on the shoulder, as though to let him know she was addressing him. "We can get you home, don't worry. I've got a shuttle with our names on it once we get to the nearest shuttleport, and with Foaly monitoring the cameras we should be able to get out in one piece."

"Should be? Very comforting."

The elf rabbit-punched him in the shoulder. "Don't snark at me, Fowl. Just get up and- sweet Frond, I did not realize you were naked. Why did I not realize this?"

Artemis shrugged, hoping to convey that there wasn't much he could do about the situation unless she had some spare clothes in his size. She seemed to get the message, or at least come to a similar conclusion herself, and recovered from her shock by going into problem solving mode. "Alright then, here's the plan. You cover yourself with a sheet, then hold onto me. Foaly is going to unlock the door on my signal, and then I shield and we run for it. There aren't any other humans on this floor, so we should be clear."

He had to ask. "Couldn't the shuttle meet us?"

"No, we don't have time for that. But don't worry, I can carry you - the wings are strong enough."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. He hoped she was looking at him to notice the gesture. "That might look a bit unusual to people below. A floating sheet."

"Maybe. Let me worry about that," Holly said. "You just… cover yourself."

Right. Naked. He obliged, fashioning the sheet into a toga of sorts, which she helped him further secure with several small clamps. Probably a good idea - they would be flying, after all, and he didn't fancy succumbing to windchill when he might finally have a chance at freedom.

oOoOo

The coast was clear, right up until it wasn't.

"D'arvit, Foaly, where did they come from?" Holly hissed as she desperately worked to secure a harness around Artemis' torso. It would distribute his weight more evenly beneath her as they flew, and each strap was gel-padded to avoid chafing and bruising. The buckles were hard to work, though, as she'd never needed to use them before.

The door buckled as several security guards attempted to ram it open. They had seconds left before it gave.

"Captain," Artemis gasped, his tone low and urgent. Frond, his voice had matured, Holly thought, then cursed herself for being distracted.

"I know. Almost there!"

"We don't have time for-"

"Done!"

They scrambled awkwardly to the window and clambered out. Holly activated her suit's mechanical wings the moment her body met free air. Not a moment too soon - the security guards burst into the room milliseconds after she had pulled Artemis up and away from their line of sight. The window was still open, but Holly couldn't stick around to close it politely without the risk of getting shot, so she simply checked that the camfoil concealing Artemis was tucked as securely as possible around his body before setting course for the nearest LEP shuttleport.

Icy bolts of fear still ran down her spine as the adrenaline began to fade. That had been a close one. She let out a relieved sigh. Hopefully she wouldn't have to pull off any rescue attempts like that again anytime soon.

 

Chapter 2

Summary:

The aftermath, part one of many.

Chapter Two

Commander Julius Root watched as a shuttle docked smoothly in front of him, engines fading from a roar to a whisper and then to silence. The port’s chaos was still clangorous around him, and behind that was the howl of core winds that emanated from beyond the still-open blast doors, but his pointed elfin ears barely even twitched as he stared dead ahead at his target.

Fowl was wearing a recyclable LEP jumpsuit when he stepped out of the shuttle behind Captain Short, who appeared to be leading him by the hand. The Commander didn’t question why she was leading him, however, because the horrific injuries to the human’s eyes were plainly visible. He’d seen the footage from Holly’s helmet, of course, but in person the damage looked a million times worse. The human’s eyes had been completely burned out, leaving empty sockets covered over by layers of silver-pink scar tissue. Despite the fact that he knew Fowl couldn’t see him, Root felt a twinge in his gut and resisted the urge to shudder. What kind of barbarian could do this to another living, breathing creature, let alone to one of their own species?

It was impossible to fathom. He decided not to try.

“ So, you brought the Mud Man here. And what, pray tell, do you intend to do with him?”

Holly held her head high. “I’m going to let him stay with me.”

Root snorted. “Ridiculous. He has a home above ground, with his own kind! Just send him back and be done with it. You did your part by playing prison break.”

The pained expression that flashed across Artemis’ face, and the way Holly’s ears fell in sympathy, told him it wasn’t going to be quite that simple.

Tilting her head to indicate that they should talk on the move, Holly lead the way toward the exit, away from the curious gazes and whispers that were following them. Root fell into step beside her, leveling his best glare at any rubberneckers as he went. The way they were gawking galled him. It wasn’t right. On some level, he understood their curiosity, but at the same time all the attention made him feel uncomfortable, angry, and protective all at once. Fowl was a person, not a freak show!

When he turned his attention back to Holly, she met his eyes, a hollow quality entering her voice. “There isn’t anybody else. They’re all dead, Commander. His family, I mean. The Butlers too. And there’s no guarantee that anyone will be able to help him if we leave him at a hospital.”

Years ago Fowl would have interjected, or at least offered a passing comment, by now. The boy had loved any chance to demonstrate his impressive intellect – as most geniuses did, in Root’s experience. As they walked, however, he remained completely silent, following Holly’s lead and giving no sign that he heard or cared about what was being said. Root gritted his teeth, hand twitching next to his empty pocket. If only he’d thought to bring one of his cigars! He was no fool. He had seen and heard enough to guess at what had happened to Fowl since they’d last seen him – some of it, at any rate, though probably not the entire picture. He could also guess at why Holly felt responsible for Fowl’s welfare after she’d been the one to rescue him. The problem was that while he understood (and agreed with) her intentions, the fact remained that he wasn’t sure whether or not she was the best fairy for this job. Her record indicated that she had no prior experience with caregiving, having grown up with no siblings or close relatives, and she certainly had no experience with more complicated cases, such as caring for a blind human. Was she really capable of handling this?

The fiery determination fueling his captain’s every movement was enough to make Root back off for now. He’d known Holly long enough to feel safe trusting her lead (as he often couldn’t stop her from taking the lead anyway when she was set on it). She was a headstrong elf, to be sure, and proud, not unlike he himself had been at that age, but not too proud to seek help if she needed it. He hoped. Worst case scenario, Holly would let him know that she couldn’t handle things and he’d have the human moved to a facility that was better equipped to handle him. No harm done. He’d even try to make sure she could visit from time to time if it came to that; the goal was to make sure Fowl was being cared for, not to cut him off from all contact.

Root nodded to himself, the decision seeming to take on a tangible weight as he made it. There was every chance that his misgivings were for nothing. And if the People were the only chance Fowl had now, then who better to help him than the one fairy he’d gotten to develop a rapport with? Experience told him that trust was important when it came to dealing with people. Who knew? Maybe it would make the difference in this equation.

Still, before the unlikely duo reached the turbolifts, Root reached out to grip Holly’s free arm, halting her – and by proxy, Artemis – until she met his gaze. “If you’re set on this, I won’t stop you. But there’s another being’s life in your hands now, Holly. Hold it carefully, for Frond’s sake.”

Those implacable hazel eyes filled with surprise and hesitation for a moment. Then her expression settled and she nodded. Once. Just once.

Root let go.

oOoOo

Artemis bumped his head no less than three times as Holly lead him up the narrow, cramped staircase. He took the precaution of ducking after that, and made sure to feel for the doorframe first before following her into her apartment. A cool breeze hit his face as Holly lead him further inside, and Artemis tilted his face toward it, enjoying the familiar sensation even as he tried to categorize it. An advanced air conditioning unit? If so, it was exceptionally quiet. It was more likely that Holly had left a window open; the filtered belowground air put him in mind of a single giant air conditioner, the atmosphere carrying a constant stale quality despite any efforts to freshen it up.

He supposed that made sense. The air never went anywhere new, after all.

“ Home sweet home,” came the observation from somewhere to his left. “It’s not much, but I found a pretty big couch at a clearing-out sale a while back, so that’s yours if you want it. Or, you know, I could give you some blankets and you can sleep on the floor. Whatever works.”

The shrug accompanying the words was audible.

“ Thank you,” Artemis murmured, moving forward with his hands outstretched. Despite that, a sharp edge – coffee table, he decided when he examined it more carefully – clipped him in the shin, and he bit back a curse. Right. Everything here was at a comfortable height for a fairy . That had slipped his mind. The last time he’d been underground, he’d been close enough to standard fairy height that normal seats and other LEP gear had been able to accommodate him. The shuttle’s seat harnesses hadn’t fit him on the ride down this time, though: at five feet and some inches, Artemis was at least two feet bigger than the subterranean designers had planned for.

Had this been how Butler felt back then? Heart clenching at the memories that tried to unearth themselves, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. Wishing wouldn’t bring the dead back to life. Better to leave the past where it belonged.

Circling the table, his hands brushed against three long, flat cushions. This was the couch, then. Holly hadn’t been overestimating when she told him that he could sleep on it. It felt big enough to accommodate five fairies with ease, perhaps more if they were willing to crowd together.

After making sure that he wasn’t in danger of squashing anything, Artemis sat, then stretched out on his side, rubbing absent little patterns into the velveteen fabric with one thumb. The world around him seemed both vivid and muted at once, every sound sharp and clear but also distant, as though they couldn’t strike him with their usual force. He had no idea what to make of it. Part of him knew that he should at least try to start processing everything that had happened that day, but the heaviness dragging at his limbs and the exhaustion stifling his thoughts made that next to impossible. Artemis decided to postpone dealing with things for a while; he’d be able to think more clearly after some rest.

Just before he drifted off to sleep, he heard a noise that seemed closer than the others. A throat being cleared?

His facial muscles moved as though to squint. Focus, or an attempt at it.

“ I’ll get you some water. You don’t have to drink it now. It’ll be on the table in front of you.”

Artemis hummed. Thanks, perhaps, or acknowledgement, or both. He wasn’t sure. Then sleep rose up like a dark, soothing wave, clearing away the last few thoughts that chased each other through his brain.

oOoOo

Holly stood stock-still for a long moment, trying to put a name to the emotions warring in her chest. There was a human sleeping on her couch. Artificial sunlight streaming in through the window dappled his dark, raven-colored hair, and his nose twitched every so often, wrinkling or relaxing as he reacted to whatever was happening in his dreams.

I brought him… here? What was I thinking?

But o f course she had. Dubious as the human’s status might be, it wasn’t in Holly’s nature to leave another being in danger, even Artemis Fowl. Though with everything Holly had seen over the past few hours, holding his past crimes against him felt less and less appropriate. There were more important things to worry about now. Time had moved on since their first meeting, and so had Holly’s career. As annoying as she’d found being placed on surveillance duty a few years ago, Root had managed to bring her back into active service as a Recon agent 16 months previously. The few missions that had been thrown her way since then had gone well. Very well, even. The Council would be meeting soon to promote her, if the department scuttlebutt could be trusted.

Which meant that Artemis’ actions had had no lasting negative consequence on her career, or at least none that had been impossible to overcome. So were they truly even as she had told him when they parted ways outside Tara? It was one thing to offer forgiveness to someone she assumed she’d never cross paths with again, quite another to end up with the same person as a roommate years later.

Holly rubbed her forehead with the heel of one palm. It helped relieve the pressure building behind her eyes. One thing was clear; there were no easy answers in a situation like this. As such, she made a stealthy retreat to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of cool, purified water. Her motto had always been that sitting idle was no way to deal with a crisis, and that included the emotional kind. Time to catch up on her paperwork before it got unmanageable.

And if sitting at the table to drink her water while she worked meant she could keep an eye on her unexpected guest, so much the better.

oOoOo

When Root got back to his office, he was greeted by a bright red light flashing on his answering machine. Unread messages. The frantic speed indicated that there were multiple messages; experience indicated that they would likely be unpleasant ones.

Mood souring, Root sighed, stomping to his desk and pulling out a cigar. Better get it over with now.

Over the next few minutes he listened to no less than fifty frantic voicemails. Some were average police business, but the majority were summons to an urgent Council meeting. Wing Commander Vinyáya had even left a message for him herself a few minutes earlier – her tone had carried an air of controlled worry, which made it infinitely more pleasant than the rest, all things considered. That was only to be expected, though. Root’s position was as much a political office as a military one, which meant that he’d become acquainted early and often with every member of the Council, not just the key players. No doubt they were all frantic to know why Captain Short had deviated from the book so drastically, and why he hadn’t court marshaled her on the spot for it.

Lighting his cigar, Root stood up, kicked his desk chair back into place, and stepped outside to roar at his secretary, letting her know in no uncertain terms where she could route all nonessential calls. He had a meeting to attend, and it promised to be an unpleasant one.

Chapter 3

Summary:

They aren't out of the woods. Not even close.

Chapter Three

The hands gripped his shoulders, holding him down, and a chuckle sounded in his ear. He struggled as hard as he could, kicking and thrashing, but the hands only tightened their grip. It hurts, he wanted to scream. It hurts. Stop!

They moved further down his body instead. An acidic taste filled his mouth as they touched places that weren’t theirs to touch , sending jolts of both pleasure and pain up his spine. Which was worse? The pleasure, which curdled in his stomach like a betrayal of his own making, or the pain that made his stomach heave, made him feel sick and weak all at once? It didn’t matter except as an answer to his own questions. A puppet made no decisions, after all, and thinking about it wouldn’t make what was happening hurt any less–

“Fowl? Artemis! Wake up!”

Artemis yelped, jerking away from the hand that had followed into the waking world. His back pressed against something firm, leaving him unable to put more distance between himself and it, and horror twisted in his stomach like a panicked animal before the situation began to resolve itself, his memories rushing to fill the gaps. Hand. A small hand. Holly’s hand. He was with Holly, not him , and so that meant that he was safe. Nobody would hurt him here. Nobody could hurt him here.

Right?

Swallowing hard, Artemis raised a hand to massage his chest. His heart rate started to slow and settle; the adrenaline left his skin cold and hairs standing on end as it subsided, allowing him to think rationally again.

“Holly?”

Her hand brushed against his, and her smaller weight depressed the cushion beside him. “I heard… It sounded like you were having a nightmare. I didn’t know if I should wake you, but then you started thrashing.”

Even that light touch made him shudder. Artemis masked it – or tried to – by sitting up straighter, shifting away from the heat of Holly’s skin under the guise of correcting his posture. A nightmare. Of course he’d have a nightmare now of all times, when she could see, when he was vulnerable. How useless and attention seeking could he get? Now his host had to comfort him like a child because he’d been crying in his sleep! He shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t good enough for her help. What had he been thinking, begging her to rescue him? She deserved so much more than to be saddled with a fearful, broken–

The dry air made his throat burn, annoyingly enough that it distracted him from the way his gut was trying to swallow itself. Better to focus on the here and now. He’d already been weak enough.

“Sorry- sorry to bother you. I'm fine, really.” The low croak made him wince; not good enough. Try harder! “I- could I have some water, please?”

She pressed a cool glass into his hand. At least she didn't try to talk to him as he drank; he focused on the sensation of the water sliding down his throat, his heart rate settling bit by bit. The raw, irritated tissue still grated with each breath he took, but he didn't feel like he couldn't breathe at all anymore, so Artemis decided to take that as a positive sign.

As he calmed down, normalcy began to reassert itself. The distance made his dreams seem even more foolish by contrast: nothing here felt threatening. Holly's presence was fine, as long as she stayed where she was. There were cars going past on the street below, more of them than earlier, the sound somewhat comforting. Domestic, even. He heard a quiet sound from opposite the couch, too, like voices. That sound was stable, not moving one direction or the other. A television, perhaps?

“What are you watching?”

If Holly could guess why he'd changed the subject, she didn't bring it up. “I just put on the news. It's reruns from the nightly stuff.” She shifted again. “I can turn it up if you want to listen better.”

Anything to distract himself. “Please. I suppose I've missed a great deal, being...”

“Yeah.”

Holly's voice had an odd tinge to it. Artemis opened his mouth to ask – well, he didn't know what to ask, and it was too late anyway. He settled for wiping at the tacky, drying tears on his cheeks, lips curling at the sensation. The newscaster's voice filled the silence, crooning Haven accent easily recognizable even after years not hearing it. Cocking his head, Artemis tried to follow the words. Some were easier to remember than others, like home and crisis , but the reporter spoke faster than he could translate. Not that that bothered him much. Holly had been right about the news being good white noise, the kind that made his body feel heavy as the last vestiges of adrenaline faded.

He wouldn't sleep, though. Not yet.

A harsh beep sounded from the next room; footsteps receded toward it, then stopped. Curious, Artemis strained to hear what Holly was doing, but he didn't hear anything for a long moment. Then she cursed quietly and began to move back and forth. Packing something? Getting ready to leave? Pacing?

“Problem?”

A snort. “Disaster, to hear Foaly tell it. But nothing I won't be able to manage. Sorry I haven't really given you a full tour yet.” Artemis heard the sound of a zipper. “There's a bathroom through to your right. Just keep going until you hit the wall if you need it. I should only be a couple hours.”

Artemis raised an eyebrow in spite of himself, but didn't point out how useless those directions would be. He'd be fine for a few hours.

“Very well. Good luck, Captain.”

How hard could it be to just sit there and entertain himself with the news? He'd survived with less in the way of entertainment for years. It would be fine.

Right?

oOoOo

Police Plaza was in chaos when she arrived. This was, admittedly, its usual state, but Holly felt an unusual energy among the crowd the moment she began to wade through in an attempt to reach the front desk. Several civilians even leveled nasty looks at her on her way past; nobody was stupid enough to outright attack her, and nobody impeded her progress unduly, yet Holly's hand hovered close to her belt just in case. She was reminded of a few years ago when the goblin/dwarf terf war had been at a fever pitch, only now she sensed less animosity between the gathered civilians themselves. No, they seemed to be directing that latent animosity at LEP officers instead.

What on earth is going on here? Anxiety clawed at her insides as Holly broke free of the crowd and made her way toward a lesser known meeting room at the station's rear. The corridors were remarkably clear – had nonessential personnel been sent home? She encountered no one but a harried secretary until she reached the meeting room, where two bulky elves from Retrieval stood to either side of the door. One stepped forward as Holly approached, signaling for her to stop. She saw his partner's hand on his neutrino.

“I.D., Captain.”

Holly had never been proud, per se, that she was infamous among her colleagues, but she'd gotten used to being immediately recognized. It came part and parcel with being a female in a male-dominated field. Top brass clearly wasn't taking any chances today, though.

She didn't let her surprise show, offering her citizenship card for inspection. The Retrieval officers put her card through a handheld scanner – barely glancing at the readout – and held the door open so she could pass.

“Good luck,” the one who'd hung back said, sotto voce.

That's comforting , Holly thought. But allowing nerves to get the better of her wouldn't help the situation, so she squared her shoulders and gave them a brisk nod.

“Thanks, boys.”

The door slammed shut once she stepped inside, its sound drawing all eyes to her. Never had she felt a sound echo quite like that; Holly took a deep breath and approached the table, trying not to take that as an omen.

oOoOo

Author's note: I apologize for the long time between updates, my friends. My computer decided to die on me, and after a process of 'can we get it fixed' that took about a month total, I finally got a new one. Things should go more smoothly now, knock on wood, even though I have classes to contend with as well. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this short chapter. I wanted to get something out there and I had these scenes in mind the entire month my tech issues were getting sorted, so I was itching to write them.

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The TV droned on and on. Artemis caught a segment or two about a school board meeting that had gone wrong, then several commercials for skin care products. It actually made him smile. Humans and fairies were surprisingly alike, given how superior the People seemed to consider themselves. Granted, the People had highly advanced technology, and their society did not contribute to climate change in a meaningful way, so he could understand their annoyance with his own species. That didn’t mean he appreciated being tarred with the same brush, but then, he’d had his own private jet and flying lessons at 12. He was not an ordinary human.

Just as he started to feel around for the remote, a change in the announcer’s tone caught his ear. Artemis frowned, interest piqued.

“Downtown Haven,” crooned the typical Haven drawl. “Police Plaza is under siege after a shocking turn of events. A human, identified by eyewitnesses to his arrival as the notorious criminal Artemis Fowl, has been brought into the city and is currently being kept in an unknown location.”

There was a pause, and the sound of an angry crowd. Presumably the public was not happy.

“The elf identified next to him is none other than Captain Holly Short of LEPrecon, the very same fairy that Fowl reportedly held to ransom when he first made himself known to the People. What her motivations for bringing him here are is unknown. Short is currently inside Police Plaza, where she cannot be reached for questioning. The Council were also seen entering the building earlier this afternoon, though whether these events are related is also unknown.”

Artemis listened as the voice promised continued updates on the situation, then experimented until he found the off button on the remote. His stomach felt like it had dropped to somewhere around his knees. The Council being there wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t be. No doubt they were questioning Holly and the Commander right now, demanding to know why they had gone against… well, admittedly, Artemis’s grip on fairy law had slipped in the past six years, but he was sure that bringing him here without prior authorization broke at least a few rules.

What if the Council decided to fire Holly or Root because of him? Artemis couldn’t imagine either of them as anything other than police officers. That was their calling, their path in life. His heart hurt at the thought that one or both might have to give it up just for helping him, just for being good people.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sinking back against the couch. “I’m sorry…”

The apartment was silent, of course. The people he was addressing weren’t there.

oOoOo

Smoke filled the air as the debate continued, irritating every throat. More than one of the fairies in the room had to make bathroom breaks to cover their coughing fits. This went on for over a half hour before anyone dared to speak up.

“Commander Root, could you please put that damnable thing out?” Chairman Cahartez asked, waving his ridiculous formal hat as though it could ward off the smoke.

Root grunted. He did not like taking such requests, particularly under stressful circumstances. But Wing Commander Vinyáya shot him a pointed look, and after a moment's hesitation he conceded, crushing the butt of his noxious cigar into a nearby ashtray – put there several minutes earlier by the distressed council reporter, who looked like she wanted nothing more than to be allowed to go home and take a long nap. She continued to type away, impractically long nails clacking with each keystroke, but if possible, the keystrokes sounded a little more lively as the smoke cleared.

“That aside,” Vinyáya said calmly, bringing the conversation back to its original point, “the question remains. If we allow Fowl to remain underground, he must be given a role to play. If we do not allow him to remain here, we must ensure that he is given proper support.”

A derisive snort escaped Ark Sool's mouth. “Ridiculous. I don't see why we should have any such obligation. Fowl may have been of use during one particular event, but he demonstrated his willingness to do just as much damage given half a chance. The point is moot. Send him to the surface – place him in a hospital or a care home, if you must – and be done with it. Let him be his own species' problem.” The gnome looked around the table, throwing up his hands in a theatrical gesture of irritation. “Or have we forgotten that he is a kidnapper and a thief? Mud People, especially Mud Men, cannot be trusted, and neither can a criminal. He is both!”

Oh really? Thought Holly. Artemis and Butler were more helpful during a crisis than you, Sool. And so was Mulch! But she kept her tongue, knowing that any outbursts would earn her a verbal lashing in return. That was the rule with being 'invited' to Council meetings. You didn't speak to your superiors unless asked a direct question. She couldn't quite prevent her expression from souring, though.

“I hate to say this,” Lope put in next, “because the human's condition is unfortunate, but if we let one Mud Man live and work in Haven, what comes next? Are we going to take in every human that's down on his luck? It's simply unfeasible. Captain Short's compassion for his… situation is admirable, but we cannot keep the People safe if we all become bleeding hearts.”

Dimly, Holly became aware that her nails were cutting into her palm. Bleeding hearts? She wanted to shake these bureaucrats and hang them over a railing until they saw sense. Though she hated what the human race was doing to the planet as much as the next fairy, she remembered what her mother had told her before the accident that had claimed her life; humanity itself wasn't the People's enemy, only their ignorance. And if she knew anything, it was that whatever he'd done as a teenager, Artemis Fowl didn't deserve to be hurt the way he’d been and then dumped into a care home for the rest of his life with people he didn't even know. He was 19 or 20 at most! He needed support, not a cage by any other name. Holly's jaw ached from being clenched too long, the urge to give Lope and Sool a piece of her mind growing stronger by the second-

Thankfully Root cut in before she snapped, his pointy ears quivering with trademark rage. “I find it very amusing that you can say such a thing and not be ashamed of yourself. One minute you're praising my officer for her compassion, the next you're saying that you don't think it's reasonable. You're just afraid, and of what? A blind Mud Man who needs help?” The commander didn't even have to add anything more. He shook his head, slowly pulling out another cigar. Nobody asked where he'd stored it to get it by security. Nobody wanted to know, either.

“We said no such thing,” Sool said silkily. “I simply don't see why his continued care should fall to us when we have no stake in what happened to cause his condition. As I said, he can receive perfectly acceptable care from his own kind – the Mud People have advanced that far, have they not? What could possibly be unethical about returning him?”

Root snorted. “Returning him? What is he, a broken toy?”

Murmurs from around the table. Nobody looked very happy about it when it was put that way. Good. Holly didn’t like the entire situation, no matter what language people used to make it sound justified. Giving up on someone who needed her help went against every principle she’d ever believed in, fairy or not. The only saving grace she could think of was that if they did put him in a care home aboveground, she might be able to drop in and chat after missions. It wouldn’t be much, of course, but surely better than nothing at all.

“If we allow him to remain here, he could consult as a strategic analyst–”

“–it’s absolutely ridiculous, I won’t allow it! Short is out of her mind, and Commander Root is enabling her.”

“I wish we could guarantee that Fowl would be taken care of, but you know how humans are, even to their own–”

Holly sank back in her seat. She felt sick.

A bang as Cahartez used his chairman’s staff to call order. “We’ve been arguing long enough, ladies and gentlefairies. I say it’s time we put the motion to a vote. All those in favor of allowing Fowl to remain here and work under LEP supervision, say aye.”

“Aye,” Vinyáya said clearly.

Cahartez nodded. “I agree. Aye.”

Lope bit his lip, torn. “Aye,” he said at last, sighing.

From the anger in Sool’s eyes, he wasn’t happy in the slightest with how things had gone. He could hardly go against the majority vote on his own, though. The rules about emergency council meetings were quite clear, and Sool always prided himself on being a law and order type of gnome. Holly caught Root’s gaze, grinning as she saw the flicker of amusement in the Commander’s expression. He had to enjoy making the provisional councilman uncomfortable as much as she did.

“Very well.” Sool stood with a sniff. “I only hope our charity doesn’t backfire on us.”

Holly managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. Barely. You don’t have a charitable bone in your body. But dwelling on things would do no good. She had to get home and make sure Artemis was doing alright. He’d been left to his own devices for closing on three hours now – longer than she wanted to leave him when he was still so new to his surroundings.

She made sure to thank Vinyáya on the way out, though. She hadn’t missed the warning look her old flight instructor had sent her when the decision had been finalized.

oOoOo

Author’s Note: Things are moving, slowly but surely. As always, hope y’all enjoy, and thank you so much for reading!

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The tension stretched after he turned off the broadcast. Artemis felt powerless. Of course, that was because he was powerless. He could do nothing, including go outside. After how angry those fairies had sounded outside Police Plaza, he doubted the general public would be happy if they saw him wandering Haven's streets in person. Unable to contact - let alone help - his fairy friends, he simply curled up on the couch, leaving only briefly to find and use the bathroom. He'd waited longer stretches of time before but somehow this felt worse, waiting to hear what fate would befall not just himself but the last people in the world that he cared about.

He grounded himself by rubbing at the soft, supple material of the cushions. They had tiny seams hidden around the edges. Barely perceptible, perhaps, to those who weren't as touch oriented, but Artemis focused on following the seams until they were out of reach, then returning to explore a different branching point. Now that he had more reason to analyze the seams he could tell that they formed a pattern; floral, perhaps, knowing how connected fairies were to nature. Then again, perhaps it was meant to resemble water or a more abstract design.

A distant memory flashed through his mind's eye at the thought: snow whirling past his face, forming vortices midair before dispersing. He was clinging to something metallic, cold even through his gloves, and there was a slightly smaller form beside him. The face had no detail but the outline remained clearly Holly's.

Were they both in just as much danger now as they'd been that day, clinging to a dangerously radioactive train? Realistically, he had to admit, no. The worst the fairy council would do was send him back above ground, and though the idea worried him, what they would do to Holly and Root... Artemis grimaced, cutting his speculations off there. Worrying would do no good. He had to find something else to focus on. The couch cushions weren't so interesting that he could wile away an entire day examining them, and he might as well get used to navigating the apartment so Holly didn't have to lead him around.

If finding his way to the bathroom with inadequate instructions had been hard, mapping the rooms with no guidance was even harder. Holly's furniture occupied that awkward height between Artemis's knee and thigh. He found that reaching out each leg in a slow sweeping motion before he stepped mitigated the worst collisions, though, and made his way from room to room.

The living room connected seamlessly with the kitchen. Artemis only realized he'd found the kitchen when he bumped into a worktop, cool and marble-like beneath his fingertips. He circled the L-shaped worktop before striking off in what felt like the direction he'd taken to find the bathroom. Yes, there was a doorway. This one was open, though. Hadn't he closed the bathroom door after leaving? He usually did regardless of his surroundings. Force of habit.

A door opened somewhere behind him; the exhausted, slightly feminine sigh that followed clued him in immediately.

"Captain Short? Holly? Is that you?" Backtracking toward the noise's source, he waited for a reply, not bothering to hide his anxiety. "There was a protest outside your headquarters, according to the news. Someone told the press that you brought me below ground. What happened?"

She made a startled sound. "So that's what that was all about? I only saw a bunch of people standing around to glare at anyone in a uniform when I went in." He felt her moving around, close enough that the displaced air generated a perceptible shift. "But they didn't cause any actual trouble, thank the Gods. The Council did enough of that."

Given that her name had been leaked, Artemis found it odd that nobody had said anything to her. Holly had the distinction of being the very first female Recon officer in LEP history, after all, and surely people would recognize her if they'd seen the leaked video. But perhaps not. Goodness knew what quality the video had been. It could have been too difficult to make out the details at all. On the other hand, maybe they had recognized Holly and been so nervous about confronting her directly that all they'd been able to do was glare.

"What qualifies as actual trouble?"

Holly patted his leg. "Nothing Root and Vinyáya couldn't handle. Got the others to come around eventually, let you stay on the condition that you get trained up to be a proper strategic analyst. So for now you're going to be issued a provisional work visa."

A wry grin tugged at his lips. Root going up to bat for him against the Council? That must have been quite the discussion, knowing what he did about the gruff old elf. Artemis decided to thank him in person next time he got a chance. Despite being Holly's superior, Root had no doubt been risking quite a bit to help him.

Dishes clattered to his right. He hadn't even noticed that he was alone again.

“So,” Holly began, “the Council decided you can stay. They want you to work as a strategic analyst.

Weigh in during missions, be involved in planning, that kind of thing.”

Artemis raised an eyebrow. “They trust me enough to give that much influence?” But his mind raced several steps ahead. Greater responsibility usually meant more accountability, and more excuses to be monitored by those who were truly in charge.

“You'll be working directly with the commander, so in theory he'll be able to keep an eye on you for them. Not that I agree with that kind of thinking, but at least they're willing to let you stay.”

And there it was. He would be monitored like the proverbial hawk. Artemis sighed, reaching up to lace his fingers together behind his head. Academically, such a thing made little difference, of course. He was sure he would be able to do his job without problems. He would accept nothing less from himself. The underhanded gesture was distinctly irritating, though; did the Council really think him such a threat that they needed to keep tabs on him? What was the worst he could do? He had no friends above ground to spill the beans to, as it were, and if he was going to reveal fairy secrets for money or fame he would have done that a long time ago. Hell, he would have just told Spiro about them instead of encrypting the C-cube so heavily and refusing to help him break the encryption.

Well, what was done was done. And perhaps he could excuse the paranoia at first – this situation was a truly unprecedented one, after all.

“A good outcome, then.” He stood and moved forward cautiously, following the clattering sounds as Holly moved about the kitchen, putting things in the sink. Best to keep his hands off the counter, then. He didn't want to have to go through the hassle of washing up again.

“I think so, all things considered. I'm sure they'll calm down about everything, you know. Just have to give them a little time.” More clatters, then a heavy thud . A loud, rhythmic chug started a moment later, its repetitiveness oddly soothing. Dishwasher? “So, I got you a few things on my way back. That's why I took a bit longer than I thought I would. They should make it easier to get around and whatnot.”

Artemis would have blinked if he'd still had eyes. As it was, he tilted his head, puzzled. “You got me... Holly, you didn't have to. You've done so much already–”

Her amused snort cut him off. Shortly afterward, a soft bundle was shoved into his arms.

“You still need clothes and things. That jumpsuit is one use only. I didn't get much, just a basic set of work clothes, a spare, and three sets that you can wear around the house.” She paused. “And socks. I hate not having socks. My feet get cold.”

Fairies did hate the cold. Then again, Artemis wasn't a great fan of it himself. Ironic. Wasn't there some law that the Irish were supposed to be immunized to chills?

“Thank you. Really.”

The clothes felt quite nice to the touch. Whatever the material, it seemed to be well made. He found his way to the couch and sat to examine them: that felt like a formal shirt with a stiff collar, and wrapped beneath that was what could only be a pair of slacks. Artemis rubbed the fabric back and forth between his fingers, appreciating the texture. Not the highest quality, but he appreciated having something that felt close in function to what he used to wear. The rest of the clothes decidedly did not remind him of his suits, as they seemed to be t-shirts and warm but breathable sweatpants. Perfect for lounging around the house – or so people had always said. Artemis had never been enamored with them before, but who knew? Maybe he would learn to enjoy them now.

He was about to unwrap the plastic package at the bundle's center when he realized that there was something hard inside it. Brow furrowing, he probed deeper, finding a thin plastic (no, metal ) device. It was smooth, apart from what felt like a volume toggle and power button on the side. Along with clothes and underwear and socks, Holly had gotten him a phone or a tablet of some kind.

“A phone?”

She'd evidently been waiting for him to notice it, because her voice came from somewhere very close by.

“A small tablet, really, by our standards. It's got text-to-speech settings and things, so I figured that would be helpful. You can look through things on the web and listen to podcasts. Stuff like that.” She let out a thoughtful hum. “I think there are apps for going to the store and things, too. You can post a picture of the shelves and someone will tell you what you're looking at.”

Artemis opened his mouth, then closed it again. He repeated the process at least two times – admittedly, he was too flustered to count – before he managed to figure out what to say.

“I... this is very thoughtful. Thank you.” The tablet felt solid and reassuring in his hand. Not too heavy, not too light, and just the right length and width. Where had she found something like this on short notice? Had it been custom made? He hoped not. He didn't want to have inconvenienced her – goodness knew he'd done that enough today. “Is there anything I can help you with? I heard you doing dishes a moment ago.”

Not that he had, well, any experience doing such things, but he was willing to learn. He had to do something .

“Er, I was going to make dinner. It's getting late. Do you want to help make curry?”

Curry? Artemis didn't know what to think about that. He rarely deviated from a mild, Mediterranean diet. “I can't say I have experience with making curry. But if you're willing to teach me?”

A hand reached out to touch his arm, guiding him toward the kitchen. He – cautiously – placed his new things down before following. When she let go he lay his hands on the counter, listening as Holly moved around him, opening and closing cabinets. Getting out a pan to warm things in, no doubt. But to his amusement, she also set a large can next to his arm, then placed a comically small can opener into his other palm.

Artemis raised an eyebrow. He couldn't help it. “Homemade from the factory, I take it?”

That earned a snort from Holly. “Hey, that's Auntie Myra's best to you, Mud Man. And her curry is to die for.”

“I might die, at that,” he admitted. “Spices are not my forte.”

“It's the sweet stuff, just some dried pepper. Don't worry. I wouldn't go hard on you your first time trying a new food.”

Artemis applied the opener to the can to cover the fact that his heart had started beating like a hummingbird's. For goodness sake. He knew he'd had a burgeoning crush on Holly years ago, but this was ridiculous. He needed to keep a hold of himself. While he had no idea what time might bring, he had to be careful right now or he might put his foot in his mouth and risk alienating the only genuine friend he had left.

Once he'd finished opening it, he picked the lid out and handed the can to Holly. A rapid series of clicks filled the air, then something whooshed rather explosively.

“Good lord.”

“Sorry,” Holly said, though she didn't sound particularly apologetic. He could hear her grinning. “That burner's a bit touchy.”

“Clearly.”

oOoOo

Years ago, if someone had told Holly that she would have none other than Artemis Fowl standing in her kitchen and that she wouldn't want to hit him for being there, she'd have told them to get some new air holes drilled into their skull. Funny how life turned out that way. But no, leaning back against the counter and standing in companionable silence felt... good, after such an insane day.

Holly rubbed one ear tip thoughtfully as she closed her eyes, breathing in the scent wafting from the pan. She'd gotten so used to living alone that she hadn't even noticed how lonely she'd become. Maybe she'd invite Foaly over soon. They rarely made the time to hang out together outside work; the centaur had his gadgets to tinker with, and Holly was always trying to make up the paperwork she'd been putting off. Perhaps it was time for that to change.

A quiet clacking sound made her look around. Artemis was searching for the pan with a spoon. When had he even gotten one? Clearly he was sneakier than she gave him credit for.

“Hey,” she laughed. “Put that down! You can wait until it's ready.”

He could look so innocent, even without eyes. “But how will we know that it's ready unless we taste it, Major? It's a human tradition – the cook tastes first. Or cooks, in this case.”

“Oh, is that so?” Snatching the spoon from his grasp, Holly plunged it into the pan. “Then in that case... mm, this is great. I might just eat it all myself!”

He tsked, but the smirk playing at the edges of his lips softened the disapproval. “Really. Do you treat all your guests this way?”

Holly reached up and tapped a second spoonful against his lips. Yeah, yeah, you big baby. “Roommates are different, Fowl. Now shut up and put that in the sink while I get us some bowls.”

Maybe this would all work out after all.

oOoOo

Author’s note: First and foremost, I wanted to say thank you to my dear friend Max, who has supported me so much in writing this. I also wanted to thank everyone who has read and - most of all - reviewed! Big thanks especially to the lovely guest called Zachary who left a review on FF.net. It was so thoughtful, and gave me more insight into what it’s like to have visual impairments, and for that I’m super grateful. As I don’t have a visual impairment myself beyond needing glasses, I’ve always approached this fic from the viewpoint of wanting to be as respectful as possible. Cheers, all, and I hope everyone continues to enjoy!

Chapter 6

Chapter warnings: Medical discussions of eye trauma and rape. Also needles. None of it is particularly graphic, but please feel free to skip the doctor’s visit scene at the end if you would prefer not to read those things.

Chapter Six

Holly yawned widely as she rolled over to turn off her alarm. The sun strips suspended above Haven were bright enough to shine around the edge of her curtains and onto her sheets, signaling that it was morning. Not that that helped her mood. Or made her feel any more awake. She lay there for another ten seconds, exhausted, muscles weak and slow to respond to her brain's signals. Then she forced herself to roll off her futon and do a few stretches to limber up. No use laying about feeling sorry for herself – if she gave in, she would only have a harder time getting up later.

But what to do about breakfast? Holly usually just grabbed an energy shake or protein bar on her way into the station to save time. Given how late she tended to cut it when it came to waking up, that was the simplest option (not to mention perfect for getting every last bit of sleep she could). Today, though, there were other things to get done, hence the fact that she'd set her alarm to go off a little bit earlier. She wanted to make sure that Artemis got settled in properly once they got there. He'd need to go through a medical examination, after all, to verify that he was healthy, and then he'd have to go learn the ropes with the commander, even if he wouldn't exactly start working today.

Frowning, she straightened up, shaking out first one leg and then the other. The commander could be overwhelming, to say the least. She hoped he had the sense to tone it down today.

The sound of footsteps in the kitchen drew her to the door. Artemis had found his way to the counter, and was currently searching for something. He found it a moment later, taking his cup from last night and filling it with water from the tap. Holly felt her shoulders relax, then blinked, surprised at herself; she hadn't even realized they were tense. And why should she be tense in the first place? There was no threat to prepare herself for. But Artemis had already begun acclimating to her apartment, which was a good sign, so she pushed her thoughts aside and focused on that instead. Who had time for negatives this early in the day?

“Hello there. You're up quick.”

He finished drinking and set his cup down. “I heard your alarm. I assumed it would be better to be ready to go sooner rather than later.” A smile stretched his lips perhaps half a centimeter. “You seem like the type to have an abbreviated morning ritual.”

He wasn't wrong. Holly nodded absently as she joined him at the counter, noticing how well he'd managed to dress by himself. While his cuffs looked a little scruffy flopping around like that, every other button was in the correct hole. It unsettled her, actually, seeing an Artemis who now seemed so much like the thirteen year old she'd known before. Though he'd changed through the intervening years – gaining jaw definition, height, and a thin streak of grey hair above his left ear – he was still the person who had kidnapped her. And the person who helped save all of fairy society , she scolded herself. Don't be unfair. You forgave him already, remember?

“Something on your mind, Captain?”

Still just as perceptive, though. Good thing he couldn't see her wince.

“I'm thinking about what we have to do today. Root said he wanted to make sure you had a proper orientation, but the medics will want to check you over first. They always do.” Holly took refuge in activity; if she was bustling around getting out ingredients for breakfast, she didn't have to stop and look at the human standing nearby. “That going to be okay? They can get a bit invasive.”

“Invasive?”

That one word summed up why she avoided the medical wing as much as physically possible. “Considering the things you've been through, they'll want to do a full workup. Lots of tests.”

“Ah.” He sounded about as enthused as she felt. “I suppose I don't get a choice in the matter.”

“They might space some things out if you ask, but...” Dumping a couple potato patties into the pan to warm, she brought out a pot that held the leftovers from last night. Nothing like curry bulked up with some potato, cheese, and sour cream, right? “I know it's not what you wanted to do with your morning. Sorry.”

A humorless chuckle. “It isn't your fault.”

Which was true. She had no control over what tests the medics did or did not order. But she still felt somewhat responsible, being the one who had to deliver him into their hands.

At least he had fair warning, she decided. The very first time she'd been called in for a full physical workup she'd been blindsided by more than a few of their requests. Was it really too much to ask that the academy instructors give cadets a brief word to the wise instead of sending them in blind? Well, so to speak, anyway.

“I'm sure it will be fine,” mused Artemis, his tone a little bit too light to be convincing. “What's the worst that can happen? A few needles and losing the last of my dignity?”

Holly stared steadfastly into the pan, stirring the mixture inside as it started to simmer. She hoped it would be that easy, but something told her it wouldn't.

“That's the spirit.”

oOoOo

When they reached Police Plaza, more protesters had shown up than the day before. Just what they needed. Holly eyed the crowds through the tinted glass of the cab she'd hired; several sprites hovered above the other fairies' heads, holding homemade signs. She winced at some of the slogans, Human go home! and Haven is for fairies! being among them. Knowing sprites they'd probably been conscripted with the promise of a few drinks afterward, a no-harm-no-foul type of deal. That was how it usually went. She could think of no real excuse for letting oneself get roped into carrying such hateful comments, though. Those drinks had better be good.

“Where'd you want to be let out, ma'am?” The cab driver, a well-groomed dwarf, called over his shoulder.

Artemis had turned his head in her direction, but offered no comment. What exactly he was focusing on Holly couldn't tell, but she had a feeling he could hear what was happening outside. Some of it, at any rate. She had to suppress a pang of guilt at the thought. These protesters were just idiots who didn't know the whole situation. Hopefully Artemis would be able to ignore them.

“Around the back please. Don't worry, I have my badge.”

The cab pulled around Police Plaza as smoothly as if it hadn't been moving at all. The driver reached back to borrow Holly's badge for a moment, then handed the silver acorn back when the gates parted to allow them access. Palming the acorn thoughtfully, Holly unbuckled her seat belt with the other hand. Best to be ready to move once they came to a stop. You never knew when curious bystanders could turn out to be paparazzi in disguise.

Artemis managed to find her shoulder. He tapped it lightly for attention.

“We're here?”

Holly waited until the car had stopped. “Now we are. Better come out my side. Closer to the curb.” She let him keep his hand on her shoulder to guide his movements until they were both on the pavement, then nudged him and stepped forward. “Straight in front of you.”

They managed to get to the front desk without incident and stepped into line. Artemis bumped into Holly when she stopped, knocking her forward a few inches, but she recovered quickly and straightened up.

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

Artemis, being close to six feet tall, attracted quite a few curious looks. One old elf even went pale and made a sign to ward off the evil eye. Holly made sure to glare at him; if he was shocked by the mere fact that Artemis existed, he could keep it to himself. Waiting rooms could be uncomfortable enough without someone making a scene. Especially if they tried to drag you into it for some gods forsaken reason. The staff were able to remain professional, though. The pixie behind the desk did a double take when Holly got up to the counter with her roommate in tow, but got over herself before the silence could become awkward.

“Name, please? Last and first?” The pixie asked, tapping her stylus absently on the fake marble beneath her fingers.

Artemis seemed to have trouble pinpointing where to 'look' for a moment, but answered smoothly. “I was put into the system yesterday, or so I'm told. Fowl, Artemis?”

His Gnommish seemed solid enough. Granted, his grammar was a little archaic, but it was understandable nonetheless. Holly let her attention wander, glancing around at the décor. It looked like any other waiting room in the world (or under it, for that matter), with off-white walls, a grey and brown patterned carpet, and landscape photos framed around the room. She tried not to wrinkle her nose – the antiseptic smell had gotten stronger the closer she got to the counter. Once they were done, she would be taking a little break outside to clear her sinuses.

A gnome in white scrubs came up behind the pixie. “Did I hear you say Fowl? He's scheduled with Dr. Kerry, I think.” He paused to shoot a brief grin at Artemis, though it faltered slightly when he tilted his head up enough to notice the holes where the human's eyes should have been. “Sorry to interrupt. Your name is just so unusual. Stuck with me something fierce.”

“Don't be modest, Al,” the pixie chimed in. “You have a mind for names. I don't know how you do it.”

“When exactly is the appointment, if you don't mind?”

The gnome had opened his mouth to say something else, but his eye gave a rather odd twitch as he was interrupted. The pixie appeared similarly taken aback.

“Oh, right. In about twenty minutes! But we'll call your name, of course.” She rifled through a drawer in her desk and pulled out a small data pad. “If you could just fill this form out before you’re called in, that would be great. Can your,” she hesitated a second too long trying to work out their relationship, then forged ahead, “friend help you, or would you like me to ask a trained officer to take a look at it with you?”

Holly stopped examining the lovely picture of an Icelandic waterfall on the wall to glance at Artemis. She’d be glad to help, of course, but she was well aware that the questions might get a bit personal. If Artemis preferred to work through it with someone who couldn’t tell anyone about his answers, she understood that. During her last visit, she’d felt bad enough answering some things on her own. She couldn’t imagine having to get someone to read them to her.

“If the Captain doesn’t mind helping, I think we’ll be perfectly fine. Thank you, ma’am.” He took the pad – or rather put out his hand in the pixie’s general direction and waited until she handed it to him – then turned to face the rest of the room again. Holly noticed that he waited for her to nudge him on the leg before following her lead. It sent a strange warm feeling through her chest to realize that Artemis trusted her enough to guide him.

He seemed outwardly polite, but Holly noticed the subtle tension running through his body. That couldn't be a good sign, could it? But she felt a little nervous asking aloud, given that his name had caused even more of the fairies in the room to start craning their necks to catch a glimpse. Others – the smartest ones – kept their gazes averted but perked up their ears, clearly hoping to listen in. No, Holly decided as she accompanied Artemis to the nearest empty seats. She'd just have to ask once they were away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers. Besides, for all she knew Artemis might simply be nervous about having to undergo a physical, which she understood completely. Better to keep the questions to herself for now, then. If she made assumptions she might end up embarrassing them both: the human was young, but he was no child. He could speak up for himself if something bothered him.

“What is the first question, then?”

He had lowered his voice, and put his elbows on his knees so he could bend down more comfortably to hear her. Probably a good idea. Holly lowered her voice too, and began to read out the first question.

oOoOo

“Fowl, Artemis?”

It was go time. Holly nudged Artemis, suddenly realizing that she’d forgotten to ask something rather important.

“Did you want me to come in with you, or should I just wait outside? I don’t want you to be, you know, uncomfortable or anything.”

He stood up to acknowledge the assistant who had called his name, but turned back toward her. Holly blinked. She could only describe his expression as awkward. “I don’t want to bother you if you’d prefer to wait here. But it would be...”

Right. Well, what was the worst thing that could happen?

“No problem, mud boy.”

oOoOo

Doctor Kerry turned out to be a no-nonsense elf who hailed from beneath Wales. She sounded like it, too, with a thick accent, booming voice, and larger-than-life personality. The first Holly and Artemis knew of her, however, was when she swept into the room with a purposeful stride, dusting her hands off as she proceeded to the sink to wash up.

“Good morning. You’re Fowl, correct? Male, human, late teens to early twenties?”

Her voice seemed to fill the room like a physical force. Artemis sat up straighter on the examination table. They were getting straight to the point, then. He didn’t mind that. He even preferred it, to be honest. Now if she could just tone it down a few notches…

“Yes, ma’am. Pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m sure it is.” She chuckled deep in her chest. Her accent made it harder to process some words, though, as she was of course speaking in Gnommish. Artemis hoped he would regain his proficiency quickly with some exposure. It was a bit nerve-wracking, not being 100% sure what people were saying to him. “Now just you wait, young man. I have to run you through the whole gauntlet today. You’ll be thanking me if I catch something in time for us to get it treated, though. Now let me hear it, and don’t you go getting embarrassed because there’s a pretty female in the room. Tell me what injuries you’ve had, and where.”

Artemis found himself taken a bit aback by the comment about Holly’s presence. A doctor’s office was no place to fudge the truth, though.

“As far as I can tell I’ve received adequate nutrition, so I wouldn’t expect any problems related to that. But the… man who held me captive burned out my–”

The lump in his throat made it difficult to speak for several awkward seconds. He had to get the words out, but how?

“He… damaged my eyes. Permanently.”

Kerry grunted, and he heard scratching. She’d probably made a note. “And? Anything else?”

“He also r– had intercourse with me by force.”

The word he hadn’t said stuck painfully in his head, swimming circles through his thoughts. Artemis tried to ignore it. He also tried – with limited success – to ignore the taunting voice that whispered from the back of his mind, laughing at the attempts he made to silence it. A voice that sounded unpleasantly like Arno Blunt’s, New Zealand drawl and all.

Oh listen, you can’t even think about it, can you? Pathetic. What’s the matter, crybaby? It’s just a word. The great Artemis Fowl. Bah. I’ve seen females with more balls. You’re exactly what the boss said you are: nothing but a whimpering bi–

A hand touched his arm, jolting him from his petrified little nightmare. “Artemis?”

How long had he been zoning out? He shouldn’t do that. He’d worried Holly; he could hear it in her tone.

“I must have gotten distracted. My apologies. Could you please repeat what you were saying?”

Dr. Kerry spoke more gently than she had when she entered. “I asked if he used protection, and if you ever experienced any pain or tearing during the process.”

“No to the first. Yes to the second.”

Artemis placed his hands on the examination table, listening to the crinkle as the disposable covering flexed beneath his weight. It grounded him somewhat. Nothing had felt like that in the room, or in Holly’s apartment. He hoped the tests wouldn’t take too long, though. He apparently had less control over his own reactions than he’d thought.

The scratching went on longer than before. A good sign or a bad sign? Artemis grit his teeth behind his lips. There was no way to tell.

“Alright, young man. Were you able to take proper care of your teeth, or should I refer you to a dentist as well?”

He’d had a toothbrush and floss. Mouthwash too. Those had been about the only luxuries he had allowed him, and then only because kissing someone with a dirty mouth ‘ruined the mood’.

“I brushed and flossed regularly.”

Another grunt. This time it was definitely approving. “I’ll still recommend a dental appointment, but that’s nothing for you to be worried about. We recommend yearly cleanings for all patients.” Kerry’s voice moved with her as she stepped somewhere to Artemis’s left. “Now I need to take a blood sample. Could you roll up one sleeve for me? It doesn’t matter which side.”

Artemis nodded mutely. A needle. He could handle a needle. Other children had always been scared of them, even his classmates when he’d gone to St. Bartleby’s, but never Artemis. He remembered his general practitioner shaking his head, saying something along the lines of ‘If only all my patients were this calm and well-behaved! I’d be able to cut my consult times in half’.

Holly undid the buttons at his cuffs so he could slide his right sleeve up to his shoulder. Her touch lingered on his hand for a moment afterward, only vanishing when Kerry came around his legs to insert the needle.

“Excellent,” she boomed, now back to her loud, genial self. “Very visible vein. I bet that’s not something you hear often, is it young man? It’s true, though. You have good veins.”

A tiny grin tugged at Artemis’s lips. He could hear Holly trying to hold back laughter.

“You’re right. I don’t hear that very often.”

oOoOo

Author’s note: Finals are this week and next, so I’m updating now to make sure y’all can enjoy before the new year. May need a few weeks to recover after finals, though. In any case, thank you for being so patient with me, dear readers. Your support for this story is amazing! It truly is the reason I keep writing. Bless you, and I wish you all a happy holiday season.

Chapter 7

Summary:

Things get worse before they get better.

Author's Note: Light warnings for discussions of STDs (specifically chlamydia). As always, please read with caution if this would make you uncomfortable.

 

Chapter Seven

 

Fowl was late.

Commander Julius Root frowned, the tip of his cigar glowing as he drew a deep breath into his lungs. He knew that the human had been taken in for a full medical workup, of course. He had ordered the appointment in the first place. Given that he'd set his first official meeting with Fowl for three hours after that, though, Root had imagined that the doctors would be done by now. As they evidently weren't, he couldn't help but assume there was trouble of some kind. Not the start he'd been hoping for.

Still, he'd prefer that they take their time if that was what they needed to keep Fowl healthy. A newer commander might not have been so understanding. A newer commander might even have complained or raised a fuss. But Root had been around since the early days of Recon. Back then medical care had depended on having quick access to magic and a good deal of luck, so he simply exhaled a large cloud of noxious smoke before getting on with his paperwork. Dr. Kerry was quite possibly the only fairy under the world who could shout louder than him. She would release Fowl when she thought he was ready, and not a moment sooner.

 

oOoOo

 

"Are you ready?"

Artemis considered the question for a moment. Did he feel ready to be thrown into an unfamiliar situation with only the Commander at his side? Not particularly. What he felt ready to do was curl up into a foetal position and cry, but he knew that was no option at all. Instead, Artemis nodded and forced a smile in Holly's general direction. She'd done enough to help him today. No doubt her actual job needed her more than he did.

"Thank you, Holly, really, but I think I can handle this for a few hours."

She hummed, clearly unconvinced, but didn't push further. "His office is this way. My cubicle is pretty close, so just follow me for now."

He kept track as they walked: where they turned, what direction, and what sounds he heard nearby. You never knew. Each building he'd ever visited had unique features. He might be able to notice things that other people didn't, things that could help him navigate, if he had to, without assistance from others or from the little tablet that doubled as a phone. One area – large, echoing – seemed to have a broken vent that provided a distinctive background wheeze. Another hallway had different tiling to the rest. Artemis minded his footing on the bizarrely bubbled surface. But to his dismay, fairy architects had come to the conclusion that uniformity saved costs, and thus had seemingly endeavored to standardize almost everything they built.

Holly stopped suddenly, putting a hand on his knee to halt him. "Here we go. To your right."

"Ah. Thank you."

It occurred to him that he had no idea whether he should simply knock or search for a buzzer. He opted for the former first, then when there was no response ran his hands around the doorframe. No luck. Well, that was strange. Either fairy doors were meant to be opened in another way, or he'd just been attempting to gain entry to an empty room.

His confusion ended when Root's gruff voice sounded behind him.

"There you are," the Commander grunted. "Shift your human backside for a minute so I can open the door."

Despite himself, Artemis felt a wry grin forming on his lips. He banished it, but the sentiment remained. Good old Root. He could, at the very least, be counted on to behave exactly the same in almost every situation. One of the reassuring constants of life.

"Was that an exact time frame, Commander, or an approximate one?"

"I'll approximate this button with your face pretty soon if you don't move, Fowl."

Behind the gruff tone, Artemis thought he sensed the barest hint of amusement. He moved anyway. Better not to test his boss too much within the first few minutes.

Before the door had even finished closing, Root directed him to a chair. Presumably one in front of the desk, as Artemis heard the elf settling into another chair opposite him a few seconds later. He tried the chair he'd been pointed toward – one arm poking him somewhere unmentionable in the process – and quickly came to the conclusion that he would not fit, settling for a cross-legged position on the floor instead. This position still brought him comfortably level with the desk, at least as closely as he could estimate based on the Commander's voice.

"Here's the situation, Fowl. I don't know how well you can navigate fairy computers yet, even with one that reads things out loud to you. But I'm going to need your input on some important matters. Matters that will shape the lives of the People as a whole."

Root was right to make sure he would be adequately prepared for the task. Artemis nodded. Even a genius needed more than a day to get used to things.

"So what you're going to do right now – for the next couple of days, really – is a lot more old-fashioned. I'll give you a little tour of the facilities, and then I'm putting you on duty with Grub Kelp for a couple hours. You'll be doing paperwork, sure, and that's not your real job, but it should help you get the lay of the land."

Julius Root had a better head on his shoulders than he let on. The thought almost made Artemis smile again.

Almost.

"Understood, Commander."

A lighter clicked, and a moment later he was assaulted by a truly disgusting smell. Just what he needed when he already had a lump in his throat.

His reaction must have been visible, because Root grunted and turned on something that made the smell dissipate. "I need to listen to a few calls before we go. Technically speaking, they'll probably be above your clearance level, but if you keep your mouth shut I don't really care if you sit there and listen or not. You'd probably have found out about most of the things you're about to hear at some point anyway. You're going to be working with the top secret stuff once we get you trained up a little."

Artemis traced a pattern on the front side of the desk, following the natural grain of the wood. Real wood. Had it been grown somewhere underground or imported from the surface? His money was on the former. The People had enough trouble managing the transport of, well, people between the surface and the deep cities. A serious logging trade seemed difficult if not unmanageable.

"You won't hear anything from me."

"Good. Save your opinions for now." Silence fell, as though Root had to think very carefully about his next words. "But let me know whether Cahartez's proposal sounds feasible or not. He said he'd leave a message about it earlier."

 

oOoOo

 

Grub Kelp rarely got a visit from the Commander in person. He rarely got a visit from anyone, in fact – though he assumed that was just because the tales of his greatest exploits had gotten around and made them nervous. Surely it had nothing to do with the complaints he'd lodged about everything from scratches on his boots to a haze of grime being on his favorite movie disk after Corporal Newt had borrowed it for a staff screening. These things weren't petty: human disks cost a fortune, and he'd gotten his the legal route.

So when he looked up to see what was casting a long shadow over his desk, he found himself a bit startled to find a human standing there. A pale, raven-haired human that he recognized immediately as none other than Artemis Fowl.

Gods, Grub thought. He's gotten a lot bigger.

Then he actually processed the thought, and had to repress the urge to hit himself for being an idiot. Of course Fowl had gotten bigger. He'd been a kid by human standards when he'd introduced himself to the People for the first time.

Root, who had been having a word with a passing sprite, turned back to Grub and grunted. "Oh, good. I need you to show Fowl the ropes when it comes to the operating system. That damned centaur updated everything. I can't even find my email anymore." He looked distinctly piqued about this, but of course that wasn't anything new for the notorious 'Beetroot'.

"Alright, not a problem," Grub said, hoping his voice sounded natural. Being confronted with one of the humans some fairies still had nightmares about (especially after the Fowl Manor siege) gave him goosebumps, even though he had belatedly remembered seeing Root's memo about it earlier. Apparently it hadn't been a joke. He stood, casually pushing his chair back. "There's a seat next door that should be the right size. Meyers won't miss it."

In typical Julius Root fashion, the Commander turned on his heel and left without a backward glance. Grub frowned at his superior officer's retreating back. He knew the Commander was a busy fairy, but come on. The older elf couldn't have stayed for a few more minutes, just to make sure the newest department member had gotten settled in properly? Grub would have expected him to seem more involved in the human's training than this, given how strongly cafeteria scuttlebutt said he'd fought to keep Fowl here.

Not that he'd voice that opinion out loud. You never knew when something you said might make it back to the wrong ears.

Getting Fowl set up turned out to be easier than he'd feared. All Grub had to do was grab a chair from next door – Meyers was on leave to have their first child, so they wouldn't miss it – and enable the read-aloud setting on a department laptop so Fowl could listen to it and explore for himself. The human waited, expression impassive, as Grub explained what he was doing, and nodded or shook his head at the appropriate times.

"Thank you," was all Fowl said to him before pulling a pair of earbuds from his pocket and plugging them in. "I appreciate your help. I'll try to keep the questions to a minimum – I'm sure you're very busy."

Businesslike and to the point. Grub nodded. He could respect that. Then, belatedly, he remembered that Fowl couldn't see the motion.

"Yeah, no problem. It wasn't any real trouble."

After that the quiet sounds of typing and computer mice clicking filled the silence. It was almost peaceful.

If only Grub's other coworkers were as easy to get along with.

 

oOoOo

 

Artemis tasted bile and tried to swallow it back, feeling his lips twitch as the acid lingered unpleasantly on his tongue. He hoped nobody noticed the slight wince. He felt vulnerable enough at the moment without people commenting on it or trying to be 'helpful'. His mother, bless her, had always been so overbearing when he let on that he was feeling sick or under the weather; Butler, thankfully, had allowed Artemis to keep his secrets when he needed to, listening without judgement whenever his charge was ready to talk.

Sometimes Artemis wondered if he'd ever deserved Butler's devotion. He could only conclude he hadn't.

They died because of me, he thought. And now I've been infected with this sickness without even noticing, and it's my own fault. God, Holly heard all about it. She must think I'm disgusting. Contaminated–

He forced himself to grip the edge of the desk. Firm, slightly cold wood under his fingertips. Yes. He was supposed to be working, not reminiscing. The guilt could come later. Getting up the courage to ask Holly about what to do next could come later, too, though he had no idea how to broach the subject once the time came. So Artemis rubbed his thumb over the lip of the desk, feeling the way the fake wood transitioned at the seams. Only an hour or so left until he was free to leave work for the day. Holding it together until then should be easy. Surely he could manage that much.

Tense and anxious, Artemis returned to his halfhearted attempts at scrolling through news sites and testing the report software by sending dummy emails to himself. There seemed to be a peculiar quirk to the system that made it impossible to send any messages if he forgot to press 'enter' after putting in the recipient's address. He practiced several times, or perhaps more than several, getting his fingers used to the movement. He'd almost forgotten what a keyboard felt like. As ingrained as navigating one had become to him, Spiro had hardly allowed him access to one.

Frustration rising, Artemis slid his chair back and stood up. It drove him crazy to relearn everything; he felt like a lab rat scurrying through a maze, desperate to find the cheese at the end and yet constantly set up to fail. He needed to do something else for a while. Maybe then he could take his mind off the things that were frustrating him. He'd always found that his best ideas came when he was inspired by an unexpected encounter or observation. Yes, that sounded good. Something to break up the monotony before he started beating his head against the nearest wall.

"You going somewhere?" Corporal Kelp asked from his right.

"Yes, the water fountain. I believe it's around the corner."

"Right." Kelp's voice was wary. "See you in a bit then."

No other comments seemed to be forthcoming, so Artemis made his way out into the hallway. Footsteps sounded around him, light and quick, but they kept their distance – presumably his new colleagues were giving him a wide berth. Just as well, really. He didn't feel like talking any more than absolutely necessary.

Quiet vibrations ran through the wall, getting stronger as he approached the source. Artemis crouched to activate the water, relishing the cool liquid as it slid down his throat, soothing the parched tissue and slowly relieving the uncomfortable lump that had formed there. He didn't feel ready to get back to work, not quite yet, but he also didn't feel like he was about to choke to death at any moment, so he chose to count that as a small victory.

Footsteps still surrounded him, a constant reminder that he was not alone. Not out of the woods yet, so to speak. Artemis distracted himself with another deep drink. That would have to be enough for now – he didn't trust that he'd be able to find the bathroom without help if he needed it.

Help. It all seemed to keep coming back to that one concept. Accepting help from Butler or Juliet (indeed, even demanding it) had never felt shameful or ridiculous, but now every time someone did things for him, pain burned his insides like it never had before. And what could he do about it? That was the rub. He genuinely needed the help, at least until he'd figured out how to deal with the challenges that came with navigating an unfamiliar world.

His conditions, as well. Artemis grit his teeth, then stopped when they slipped and ground painfully against each other. Chlamydia of all things! How disgusting. Of course, he'd only have to take antibiotics for a week to get rid of the infection, but that was hardly the reason he was upset. Chlamydia was a light sentence, compared to other things he might have contracted. No, his anger and disgust, he had to admit to himself, came from the circumstances. Few people asked for an STD, but he'd been completely unwilling to engage and yet he'd still come down with the kind of thing that made anyone anxious to think about. The only saving grace – that he could see – was that even if she did turn out to be disgusted by it, Holly was unlikely to spread the word either.

"Artemis?"

Think of the devil, Artemis mused silently, and she will appear. But then that went for angels as well, if his mother was to be believed.

"Ah, Holly. Did you come to use the fountain? I must be blocking it. Apologies."

"I came to find you, actually," she said, voice getting closer. She must have been leaning against the wall next to him by then, just beside his left leg. "It's time to head home, and by some miracle I got my paperwork done, so there's no reason to stay late unless you've got something to clear up first."

Oh. He must have been standing here longer than he'd thought. Maybe he should have stayed at Grub's desk. The last thing he wanted was to make Holly worry.

"I finished what the Commander asked me to do. We should be able to leave immediately. Are we taking a taxi again?"

"Yeah, it's actually free for LEP employees. Well, sort of. We get a ride account every year. Comes out of our wages, which is a little bit annoying, but it's useful. Just have to show my badge and we're all set."

Good to know. Artemis nodded in what was hopefully an agreeable manner, pushing away from the wall to follow Holly's light guiding tugs on his pant leg. She seemed cheerful enough. Could everything turn out for the best after all? He scarcely wanted to believe it, but she wasn't treating him any differently than she had before she knew the full details about his health. Holding in the questions he wanted to ask was difficult, but he knew they'd be overheard if he asked them here, so Artemis steadied himself and held his tongue.

Her apartment seemed a long way away.

 

oOoOo

 

The door had been closed behind them for all of two seconds before Holly cracked.

"Are you okay?" She blurted, then bit her lip. Stupid as it probably sounded, she'd been worried since she saw him leaning against the wall like that. It hadn't felt right. "You seemed upset earlier. Which, I mean, obviously you've been through a lot, and that's okay, but I mean- You're not alone, you know that, right? You can talk about it if you need to."

Artemis tilted his head like a bird of prey. Triangulating, Holly guessed, the way elves often did when trying to check their surroundings.

"After what you learned, you aren't... disgusted? Or upset?"

Holly jerked, surprised. Disgusted? Upset? Had he been afraid that she was going to kick him out or spill the beans all day? Her disgust was directed at herself: evidently she hadn't done a good enough job letting him know that it was okay, that she supported him.

"What do you mean? Why would I feel like that?" She shivered as she moved closer, conscious for the first time of how warm he was. "It wasn't your fault that this happened to you. You know that. I know that. And I'm definitely not going to judge you for it, so please try not to blame yourself either. Okay?"

A long, slow breath shuddered from his lungs. "You mean that?"

"Yes. It wouldn't be right for me to judge you, even if it had been your fault somehow."

He looked nauseous. Holly's fingers tingled, and the sensation confused her for a moment. Then she realized what was happening. Artemis had started to shake like a leaf in a storm.

Holly pulled him toward the couch, tugging until he sat down. Was he going to collapse? She had no idea what she would do if he fell unconscious. At least now that he was sitting, he'd be less likely to hurt himself if he did, but would paramedics be able to get him downstairs safely? They carried stretchers big enough to take jumbo pixies and the like. They had to, if they wanted to be able to support all patients. A nearly six-foot tall human might be too big, though, even for equipment like that.

"Artemis? What's happening?"

Grief. That was the word for what she saw on his face now. Pure, unadulterated grief.

"That's the problem. I'm afraid that I may have deserved what happened, Holly. I brought it all on myself. Just like I brought Butler, Juliet, and my parents into Spiro's clutches by my own selfish, idiotic actions."

Stunned, Holly opened her mouth to– well, she didn't know exactly. Argue? Deny his words? Ask a question?

But Artemis plunged onward before she could speak, worsening the horrible feeling of dread in her stomach. "And worse, I may have put you and the rest of your people in danger as well. God, what have I done?"

She tugged his sleeve as lightly as she could manage. "What have you done? You tell me. I don't understand what you're talking about."

Rubbing his face with both hands, Artemis straightened up, tilting his head as though to look at her. "You won't know this, but six years ago, I set up a meeting with Jon Spiro. We decided to meet at En Fin. A high-end restaurant in London."

"You were meeting with him?" Another piece of the puzzle slotted into place. "You contacted him first?"

He nodded. "I was younger – obviously – and thought that I knew everything I needed to know about the world. So I decided that I would offer him a business opportunity. I had something he didn't, something that nobody in the human technology industry would have for at least fifty years at the earliest. I thought that I could persuade him to buy into a brand-new company that I would create after I had secured a few speculative investors, and then make myself into the head of a multi-billion dollar, worldwide industry. Easy. So easy it seemed laughable at the time."

The air seemed reluctant to fill her lungs. Then Holly realized that she'd been holding her breath for at least a minute. "You had fairy technology, didn't you? Oh, Artemis, please tell me you didn't–"

"I did," he whispered. "I created a minicomputer from the components left over from the siege, and tried to use it as a bargaining chip."

She could imagine all too clearly how well that would have gone down with a high-powered businessman like Spiro. A kid holding a key to almost limitless power, ready to threaten the entire market? No wonder Spiro had been so furious with Artemis, furious enough to murder four people in cold blood and treat Artemis himself so awfully. Holly's heart clenched at the thought. What had her friend set in motion here?

But why hadn't Spiro unlocked the secrets of the fairy technology he'd seized yet? Foaly had picked up on odd readings, but nothing that had seemed remotely close to a serious development.

Leaning against the soft backing of the couch, Holly let a few seconds pass as she readied her next question. The still, silent underground air seemed oppressive now, like a blanket smothering her even as she tried to ignore her rising panic.

"So he's had this computer thing for six years? This is a disaster! But there's one thing I don't get. How come he hasn't taken advantage of it yet? Why hasn't he come out with upgrades and what have you, like you wanted to do?"

Artemis shrugged. "I encrypted it with an eternity code. A code that, in theory, can never be broken."

"So if he can't get into it, what's the big deal? Doesn't that mean we're safe?" She was sure he could hear her confusion, but she didn't care. Tech things had never been her forte.

"No code is truly impossible to break. Even an eternity code. It's a question of buying yourself more time, not being impenetrable, and with the resources he has at his fingertips–" Pain shone through Artemis's features. Holly put her hand on his arm again, and this time he actually placed a hand over her own, as though trying to draw strength from the contact. "I'm afraid he's most likely already broken it, or that he will break it soon. I just had no way to contact you to warn you earlier. And... since we arrived, I've been too overwhelmed to tell you or the Commander the truth."

Too cowardly, more like.

He swallowed, turning his head away. "God, I'm so sorry, Holly. You've done nothing but help me, and I've let you down. I've failed everyone."

Despite the way her heart was hammering against her ribcage, Holly fought to calm herself, choking down the acidic comments brewing on her tongue. She'd be no use to anyone if she lost her head. Getting word to the Commander was the most important thing right now, after all, so that he could scramble a team to deal with the threat. Recriminations could come later, once everybody was safe again. In any case, they'd need Fowl semi-sane so that they could glean more details about what had happened – if she made him panic or drove him into a depressed state now, there was no guarantee that he'd be able to help. She could scream at him as much as she wanted to for what he'd done later.

Then again, the softer side of her heart whispered, did he deserve to be screamed at at all? Yes, he'd made a mistake. Yes, it was a rather big mistake. But for all his massive intellect, he'd only been a child at the time. Thirteen. And it was clear that he felt terrible about what he'd done. Surely she should forgive him when he so clearly regretted it, when he was apologizing without even being prompted to.

No. Her granite-hearted side won out, crushing the misgivings. She'd forgive him once she'd made him grovel and beg. He deserved to suffer for getting the people he loved killed, for potentially compromising the safety of many more. Maybe this was just what he needed to teach him that his clever schemes were both irresponsible and dangerous.

"Okay," she said, adopting the most neutral tone she could manage. She saw Artemis wince as she jerked her hand away from his, but she refused to feel bad about it just then. All her energy was going toward not hitting him. "I'm going to tell you what we'll do. First, we need to tell the Commander everything you just told me, so we can try and get to Spiro and stop him from putting out any information we don't want him to. Then, once he's dealt with, I'm going to mesmerize you to make sure you aren't hiding any other little secrets from me, and we can go from there. Don't even think about refusing, though. If you don't want me to use the mesmer on you, then you can just find somewhere else to live, because I'm not going to deal with a liar under my roof. Understand?"

Artemis flinched as though she'd actually slapped him. But he kept his head down, clearly unwilling to turn his face toward her again as he nodded.

"I understand. And I know you'll still want to verify this, but I swear that I haven't kept anything else from you. You have my word."

Oh whoopie, Holly thought. Artemis Fowl's word. I can take that to the bank.

 

oOoOo

 

Author's Note the Second: Heya there folks, hope you're still enjoying the story. Happy New Years to you all!

Chapter 8

Summary:

Plans are made, and it's time to find out how someone else has been faring since we last saw him.

Chapter Eight

“He what,” growled the Commander.

Holly's voice came from his right, cool and clear. “He built a computer out of stolen fairy technology, yes.”

A frustrated sigh, and Artemis had to resist the urge to cough as smoke burned his nostrils. Root had lit one of his noxious cigars, no doubt. Not that Artemis blamed him — the commander was right to be upset. He did resent being talked about as though he wasn't even there, though. Perhaps he should speak up, but what could he say? The situation had just been aptly described, so there wasn't much he could – or should – add in his own defense. A solution, then? Yes, that sounded better.

If Spiro had done the sensible thing, he'd have placed the cube under the best security he had to offer. Security that most likely wouldn't be able to come close to what Foaly could accomplish. Which meant that if Artemis was correct, he'd have placed the cube in a very particular room. That was the trouble with having captives; they tended to have a lot of time on their hands, and could overhear things if you weren't careful. Dangerous things. Things that might tell them how to get through your security, for example.

“As unfortunate as the situation is,” Artemis began, “I may have a suggestion about how to proceed.”

Root's skepticism was audible. Which really meant, of course, that he wasn’t trying to hide it. “You have a suggestion.”

“I do, in fact. I can give you an educated guess about the cube's current location.”

A little more interested now. “Can you? Go on, then. Don't keep us waiting.”

Artemis inhaled deeply, thinking back to the day he'd arrived at the Spiro Needle. A bolt of pain lanced through his chest, but he forced himself to ignore it. The pain was hardly more important than the information he had to offer.

Hallways flashed to life as he brought the memories to the surface. Artemis saw Spiro's smirk, the way the man's eyes roamed up and down his body even then. Blunt had crowded in on his other side, leering with those broken, pulped teeth and bloody gums. I'm just a child, Artemis wanted to scream. I was just a child, and you had no right to–

But no. Focus. He had to focus. He could feel things later.

“He had a vault for his highest security projects. I would hear him and his men talking about it from time to time, even recently. He always boasted that its security could never be cracked. Of course, he still — most likely — does not know much about the advanced nature of fairy technology, so I suspect that we can infiltrate his facilities. I also know that the vault is on the floor below my–– my cell, so we could start our search there.”

Tense silence filled the room for a moment. Then someone exhaled, though thankfully without sending a fresh wave of smoke everywhere, which Artemis appreciated.

Root sounded thoughtful this time. “I suppose that's not nothing, but we're going to need more than that. What kind of security are we talking about here? Scans, a bunch of lasers, what?”

“When he brought me past what I believe was the vault, I remember him speaking aloud. ‘It's Jon Spiro. I'm the boss, so open up quick.’ He may have it keyed to recognize his voice.” Artemis paused, then added, “Most likely more than that, of course, but we should be able to find out what else he has set up via some infiltration and Foaly's scans. I would expect a fingerprint verification process, at the very least, but I have no way to know that at the moment.”

“Didn't Foaly run scans earlier? Don't tell me that pompous centaur forgot to save them.”

The door, which had whooshed open mid sentence, had clearly admitted the centaur in question. He clopped over to the desk, hooves striking loudly on the tiles.

“I save everything, Commander. My backups have backups. Behold.”

Artemis couldn't help the sarcasm that entered his tone at Foaly’s choice of words. “And for those of us who cannot behold?”

“Er... right. Point taken.” Another soft clop or two as Foaly situated himself. “So, the long and short of it is that the building is completely wired. I'm talking motion sensors, cameras, and laser grids. The whole works. We were lucky to find a window left open the first time.” He didn’t sound happy to admit that. “Spiro might be a nasty Mud Man, but he's not dumb, I'll give him that. I got into the camera systems before, thanks to Holly, but security will probably be on edge after our last visit. We could use some help here, especially if Spiro's got this cube locked up as tight as Fowl thinks he does.”

Holly shifted in her seat. Artemis tried to ignore how cold he felt without the comforting awareness of her body heat beside him. “Do you think we could use Mulch Diggums, Commander? I think he’s been released by now, so we could even ask him to be involved as a civilian consultant.”

“And it wouldn’t even break regulations this time, as long as he signs the contract,” Root snorted. Then, in a more sober tone, he added, “I don’t know. That reprobate doesn’t do anything for free. What would we have to bargain with?”

While they began to wrangle over what incentives to offer, Artemis had already moved on to analyzing a speculative plan. Having Mr. Diggums on their side would undoubtedly raise their chances of success. He was a highly skilled thief. The dwarf’s face appeared to Artemis in his memories as he thought, grinning triumphantly as he opened the plasma cannon supply system and calling ‘now that, my boy, is talent’. But no matter how skilled an asset might be, they had to be utilized at the right place and time if the overall plan was to succeed. So what role should he play? Where to place him in relation to the other pieces?

If they could entice him to help, his skills would be most useful at the vault, Artemis decided. Not being able to see the security measures himself left him woefully under-prepared for what the highest tier of human engineering had in store. Holly and Root could relay what they saw back to him if they had to, but Diggums would know what to look for in a way they simply couldn’t. Not without some intensive lessons, at least.

Artemis opened his mouth to mention what he’d been thinking, then closed it again. A tense silence had descended over the room’s other occupants. He heard Foaly shifting uncomfortably from hoof to hoof, and Holly huffed as she readjusted her position. Obviously piqued. That didn’t sound good for his chances of keeping the others on task. How was Artemis supposed to broach the subject without upsetting one or all of the fairies present? If he just jumped into the conversation as though nothing had happened, would that be seen as insensitive?

Time was critical to the mission. Holly would understand, even if she was upset with him at the moment. Right? And even if she didn’t forgive him, Artemis admitted to himself, he deserved her anger and disdain. He’d done truly stupid things and then lied by omission. In the end, he deserved whatever she decided to offer, even if that was absolutely nothing.

She could hardly get more irritated with him, after all.

He had just opened his mouth again when Root cut in. “Whatever you’ve got to say, Fowl, out with it. Don’t keep us waiting.”

“I was merely thinking that perhaps Mr. Diggums and myself would make the best team for opening the vault.” The urge to spread his hands – a clear of course gesture – rears its head. Artemis laces his fingers together instead. No need to be patronizing. “His aid would be invaluable. That is, provided that you, Foaly, can find the blueprints for a certain project. It should be somewhere in the archive of a company called Sullivan’s Steelworks, based out of Northumbria. Do you think you can take a look at their servers before we leave?”

“Can I take a look at their servers? Can I take a look at their servers? Don’t make me laugh. I can hack servers better than a sweartoad can–”

An actual hiss cut the centaur off. When she found words, Holly’s voice was cold and full of barely-veiled annoyance. “Now is not the time for bragging, please and thank you. If you can do it, do it.”

Oh dear. Artemis rubbed his temples. This may get rather unpleasant if she doesn’t calm down. But he’d never been particularly good at diffusing situations, so he leaned back in his chair to think about what else he might have learned about Spiro’s security, both inside and outside the vault. The windows higher up were certainly not bulletproof, so he had no doubt fairy acid or lasers could make a suitable entrance. The question was really whether there were any motion sensors hidden around the windows to trip up potential intruders. There hadn’t seemed to be when Holly entered to rescue him, but if Spiro was still half as paranoid as he had been he may have changed that.

But they had a general course of action now. That was all they could have, considering the fact that they still needed one more team member.

He tried to ignore the dread that writhed in the pit of his stomach, and the feeling that there was something vital that they were missing.

oOoOo

Mulch Diggums, as it happened, had done quite well for himself after his capture and subsequent release. Being captured and put in prison yet again after the goblin rebellion had been a surprisingly positive experience. His cellmate, Doodah Day, was a decent guy, even if he did have an unfortunate weakness for drag racing. And fish. And seafood in general. He’d promised that he’d go straight, though, once he was out, and for once the idea had appealed to Mulch too. The criminal life, for whatever reason, had gone south for him. Maybe it was a good idea to quit while he was ahead. Well, while he still had his looks, at any rate.

The pair had even begun their own start-up transport business together. Not that there weren’t enough of those to go around in Haven, of course, but they had managed to develop a fairly loyal customer base, so things weren’t all bad. Mulch and Doodah’s bills were being paid, even if a higher overhead would be nice, and the work didn’t require getting up during the arse end of the morning or being hauled off to a cell again. Perfect.

They’d taken up office space at the back of a garage big enough to house two haulage vehicles and not much else. Mulch typically held the fort and did the paperwork, which suited him better than driving. It was quiet, and once he’d gotten through the mountains of contracts and deposit confirmations he was free to head off to his favorite dwarf chophouse. Nice and easy. Plenty of time to develop other hobbies, like doing work as a locksmith on the side when people forgot their keys.

Of course, on that particular day, he wasn’t so lucky. Life, it seemed, had other plans for him.

When the door to his office swung open, Mulch blinked. People usually did not come over unless they were Doodah or had come to discuss a deal. And he was right to be surprised. It wasn’t every day that Root, Holly Short, and Artemis Fowl came to visit little old him.

“Commander, Captain Short,” the dwarf noted, leaning back in his custom swivel chair. “What’s with the Mud Man?”

Especially, though he held short of voicing the thought completely, this particular Mud Man. And come to think of it, it was amazing how much Fowl had grown. He had to crouch outside to be part of the conversation.

Mulch wondered what had happened to his eyes, though. It didn’t look like it had been a pleasant or voluntary experience.

Root leaned against the desk. “I’ll cut to the chase. We have a situation.”

Of course. “Y’know, Julius, it would be nice if you could make a social visit once in a while. Balance out all the threats of death and destruction.” Mulch shook his head. “And by the way, hello Mud Man. I’d say yer lookin’ well, but we’d both know I’m lyin’. Seems to me that one of us had a rough six years, an’ it wasn’t me.”

Much to his surprise, Fowl turned away, a frown tugging at his lips. And what did you know, he’d developed a nice little premature gray streak above his temple on that side.

“That’s part of the problem,” Root sighed, more subdued than usual. “Fowl was held captive by someone who also stole an important piece of fairy technology.”

That explained the urgent visit, then. Rolling his eyes, Mulch pulled out his communicator and sent a message to Doodah. Looked like he’d be off work for a day or two. Maybe more. “What would you do without me, eh? But wherever we’re breaking into, I’d better get a medal for this. You owe me, Julius, and I don’t work for free.”

Captain Short’s jaw had dropped. She made an effort to pick it up off the floor, then managed, “Just like that?”

“For a medal,” Mulch corrected.

Now her eyes narrowed, more than a little suspicious. “For a medal. Right.”

And to find out what the hell happened to Fowl . But the dwarf didn’t bother saying that out loud as he pushed back his chair and grabbed a few items. Communicator, locksmith’s kit, keys, and wallet. He’d been surprised by the Fowl kid’s moxie during the rebellion, and seeing how tired he looked right now was… weird, and unpleasant.

Whoever had managed to outsmart Fowl, they were about to get more than they’d bargained for.

oOoOo

Author's Note: Hope you all enjoy the new installment. Thanks to Max and Jelli, as always, for letting me know what they thought before posting, and thanks to all those who've reviewed and favorited and followed as well. If you're so inclined to comment on this chapter, please let me know what you thought, especially about our good friend Mr. Diggums coming back into the picture. Otherwise, I'm glad you made it to the end. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 9

Summary:

A panic attack and unexpected help.

Chapter Nine

“Alright,” Root barked, “get whatever you need to do done before we leave. Once we're out in the field, we're out in the field, and I am not interested in turning that shuttle around because some numbskull forgot their gear. So hop to it, people. Next flare is in two hours – we'd better be out of here before it hits.”

Artemis nodded in the Commander's general direction, just to provide acknowledgment. Whether anyone had been looking or not when he did so was beside the point. No questions came his way as he felt for the door and used it as a guide out into the quiet hallway; he assumed that was a good sign, and kept going, ears pricked for any sign that there was a water fountain in the vicinity. Even with advanced fairy technology, one could usually pick up on some kind of noise. Water pipes were never truly silent.

He almost snorted at the thought. Fixating on plumbing? Perhaps Spiro had driven him mad. But then he refocused on the task at hand, because it was infinitely more appealing than considering why his mouth felt so dry and cracked in the first place.

Spiro. Artemis fought back shivers as the name ran through his mind. Even the man's name felt like spider legs dancing, ready to skitter this way or that at a moment's notice. Yet here he was, preparing to confront his former captor again just days after escaping. Was that the real madness? He wasn't sure what to think about the situation anymore. Artemis knew he had to go – so much more than himself was on the line if the c-cube wasn't retrieved – but cold, rough hands seemed to trail down his spine at the mere idea, as if to promise that he'd be back where he started soon enough. All he had to do was wait like a good boy...

If only he'd listened to Butler back then! Sudden pain blossomed in Artemis's knuckles, and he recoiled with a sharp gasp before realizing that he'd punched a wall in his frustration.

“Stupid,” he murmured, stuffing his scuffed fist into a pocket for protection.

This was exactly why Holly had been so furious with him earlier, why every scheme he dreamed up led to ruin. Even now, he kept on losing sight of the innocent lives that could still be saved if all went according to plan. Butler and Juliet and his parents were gone. He'd had years to mourn them. It was time to let go. The entire population of Haven (not to mention the other major fairy settlements) were the ones who stood to lose now, if Artemis failed again.

Bright lights flashed before his mind's eye. A vision of Haven, as he'd once seen it through a window from LEP headquarters. Bustling, vibrant, dirty with countless centuries' grime and the combined evidence of unknown fairies and their histories, all played out in a single massive space. But something was wrong. Sprites burst into the air, elves screamed, pixies fled in the vain hope that they could escape, and Artemis felt his breath catch in sympathy as their combined terror struck at his very core. A horrible, unimaginable din filled his brain as the cavernous roof moved above the city, sending ancient rock spires to the ground like giant hammers. Above that noise, though, was another. One that Artemis new all too well, raspy and chilling.

The kind that he had always imagined with a sneer embedded in it to the core.

Even in this twisted vision Artemis turned away. He didn't want to see the face that would be peering down at him, or the maniacal grin that twisted across its lips.

He didn't want to see anything.

I'm a coward.

Hot tears trailed down his cheeks. Artemis didn't fight them, staggering into the wall and pressing his forehead against the painted concrete. Any observers would still be able to tell that he was crying, but some angry, stubborn side of him refused to let them view the physical evidence. As much as he disliked the liquid pain that leaked from his ruined eyes, it was the one thing he had left now. Nobody else was allowed to take it.

At some point he noticed that his knees had folded, depositing him on the floor. But what was one more little betrayal? His body hadn't been his own for a long time now; it ran by its own ineffable rules, or even worse, by other people's.

“Oi, Mud Boy. You aren't lookin' too good.”

Mulch's voice cut through his petrified little nightmare, drawing Artemis back to reality with a sickening jolt. He took a deep, shaky breath and scrubbed at the salt that clung to his face in a vain attempt to hide.

The dwarf crouched beside him. “There you are. Thought I might not get through to ya' for a minute. Here, have a drink. Don't worry, it's just water. I was visitin' the fountain myself, as it happens.”

I was hyperventilating, Artemis gathered as the ache in his throat intensified. What moisture he'd had left was gone. He shivered, the idea yet another dull thorn to prick at him. But he'd been lucky that it was just Mulch who found him, even if it didn't feel like it. He didn't want to know what Holly would have thought, finding the great Artemis Fowl cowering in a corner like a helpless babe. Or Root. God, Root might have bitten his head off there and then if he'd seen this.

“Thank you,” he whispered when a small cup – small to him, anyway – was pressed into his palm.

A quiet grunt. “It's no problem.” Then Mulch shifted, presumably sitting down as well, and Artemis had to fight to keep himself from jerking away. He was being paranoid. It wasn't Spiro or Blunt. Mister Diggums had most certainly proven his skills as a thief, but had never displayed an inclination for violence unless absolutely necessary.

“Now, you want to tell me what's got you all out of sorts?”

Artemis tensed and opened his mouth, ready to spit a pithy reply. No. I don't want to tell anyone anything right now, as it happens. But the impulse soured before he could find the words. The thought of losing one more friend today – even in the loosest possible sense – stuck in his throat like a physical barrier, and he quickly gave up trying to force his vitriol past it.

“Nerves,” he bit out at last. “Spiro is a dangerous man.”

Mulch bit down on something with a loud crack. From the sound of it, he'd appropriated a few carrots from Foaly. Likely without the centaur's permission.

“Spiro, right. He has all these connections and fancy gadgets. Sounds dangerous enough.”

“Sounds dangerous? Of course he sounds dangerous. He is. I just said so.”

He could hear the raised eyebrow in the dwarf's next words. “I thought this was just some nerves. Sounds like a bit more than that to me, eh Mud Man?”

Artemis felt his lip curl as he raised a hand to rub at the tension behind his empty eye sockets. Never underestimate Mister Diggums, it seemed. No question now that Mulch had his number. That didn't mean he was interested in spilling his life story, of course, but there was only so much he could get away with keeping to himself at this point. At least when it came to the details that were relevant to the mission...

“You've got me. Yes, I'm afraid of him. But I am not a child anymore. I can master my fear.” Apart from his current mental breakdown, Artemis had been doing rather well. Not that Mulch had been around to see that. “This is a minor setback. Nothing more.”

An elbow nudged his side.

“If this is what you'd call minor, I'd hate to see what a major setback looks like to you. C'mon, kid. You weren't half as scared when we took on Koboi and Cudgeon and their goblin friends. What's Spiro got on them?”

In his own way, Mulch had a point. And yet, Artemis reflected, emotions were rarely as simple as that. Opal had posed a threat to the fairy world just as grave as the one Spiro posed now, but her menace had never extended to Artemis himself, not directly. As much as it stung to admit it, that mattered. The malice that he'd known for six years was not an easy thing to forget, and it weighed on him; it stole his breath and left him speechless in its wake, a puppet with no master.

How could Koboi ever compare to that?

“Spiro...” Artemis gestured at the gaping holes in his face, unwilling to explain further.

Mulch's answering grunt was thoughtful. “I did wonder about that.”

“Quite.”

A merciful silence fell between them as Artemis lifted the cup to drink. The water tasted sweeter down here – purer, as Holly had once put it. He couldn't help but contemplate the extra steps that it took to 'purge the mud people' from the water supplies, and indeed where Haven's water came from in the first place, grateful for a nicer subject to distract himself with. Better not to get worked up into a panic again this close to such an important mission, after all. There would be time enough to do that in the shuttle.

Speaking of which...

“How much time?”

His voice wavered. If Mister Diggums had noticed, however, he didn't acknowledge it.

“About forty minutes left before that flare, I reckon. Knowin' Julius, he'll have it all about packed by now.”

The Commander never liked to waste time, so the dwarf's words rang true. Artemis stood and smoothed his clothes, ready to leave. He dared not be the one to make them all late: some humans considered being late by a certain margin fashionable, but as a businessman's son Artemis had never been among their number. Punctuality mattered in the business world and it mattered here, to the business of saving lives.

“We should be on our way, then.”

Unbeknownst to him, Mulch had started to grin. He'd been starting to wonder where the spirit he'd noticed in the Fowl kid years ago had gone. It was nice to see that game face back on.

“You're the strategy guy, kid. But the shuttle's down this hallway here.”

 

oOoOo

 

Author's note: Yikes, it's been a while. If any longtime readers are still here, sorry for the wait. It seems the writing brain has returned, though, so hopefully we can all enjoy some more updates in the near future.

Best,

RoT