Chapter Text
Holly had made it a routine to visit Artemis every full moon, and the moon was especially full tonight. She flew across the sky, her body buzzing from her recently renewed magic. The world passed by below her as she followed the same route as always toward Fowl Manor.
The fairy roses--still standing even after Artemis’s revival--waved at her in the breeze. Holly flew to Artemis’s window and landed neatly on the windowsill. She peeked inside and saw him sitting at his desk, reading a book. Turning off her shield, she rapped on the window.
Artemis looked up. When he spotted her, his face split into a grin for a short moment before settling back into his regular disgruntled expression. He did this every time she visited, and it always amused her. It was as if he wanted to hide how much he liked seeing her.
Artemis took in a breath and straightened his posture before he went to the window and opened it. “Hello, Holly,” he greeted, as formal as always.
Holly smiled. “Hey, Artemis. How is your rehabilitation going?”
“It’s going well. I can run without crutches now.”
“You can run? Your new body must be stronger than your old one, then.”
Artemis laughed. His face was stretched into a smile, before he quickly forced it down and instead turned his attention to the object in her hands. “Is that another file for me?”
Holly held out the binder for him to see. “You should be thanking me for this, you know. I go through the effort of documenting every adventure we go through just to help you jog your memory.”
“I thank you for your effort,” Artemis said with a respectful nod as he accepted it.
As he took the folder, she hesitated before asking, “How is your memory, by the way?”
Artemis kept his eyes on the file. His shoulders were tense as he answered, “It is well. I am getting many of them back.”
“Are you?”
“I am.”
“That’s good news, then.”
“Yes. It is.”
His aloofness was enough to convey that she wouldn’t be getting much information from him. Holly wondered if he was hiding something, and why. She shouldn’t be surprised, really. He always hid things.
Changing the subject, he read out the label on the file. “The Last Guardian.”
Holly looked down at the file title, written out in both Gnommish and English for Artemis’s sake. “That’s right,” she said, then, “this is the last file.”
Artemis looked up in surprise. “You mean…”
“Yeah,” she said. “It ends with your… ah…”
“Perishing?”
Holly chuckled at his fancy choice of words. “Yes. That.”
Artemis stared at it for a moment longer. Rather than read it, though, he set it down on the window sill and settled his hands on top. “I read the last file you gave me. The one with the Atlantis Complex.”
Holly waited for him to say more, wondering why he would bring it up. His eyes refused to meet hers. His head tilted slightly, and he said, “So...Orion.”
Holly grimaced. “Yeah, uh. That was an awkward experience.”
“Was he really that bad?”
He was looking at her now, and she noticed his expression held a hint of--guilt? Her eyes widened, and she assured, “Don’t worry, I know you weren’t yourself at the time.”
He looked away again and said, “Well--yes, of course. But he is still a part of me. I don’t want you to...to hate him, or anything.”
He was acting uncharacteristically nervous. Holly frowned, but thought about his question anyway.
“He did get better,” she told him. “I only include the fairy part of our adventures in the documents, since I assume your family can tell you the human part. But during the half year you spent recuperating from your Complex, Orion learned from your therapy about respecting boundaries. Since then, he was okay to be around.” She smiled, and added as an afterthought, “In fact, I kind of miss him.”
Artemis looked up at her in surprise. “You do?”
Holly shrugged. “He was funny. Though, I don’t feel that bad about him being gone. No offense to Orion, but you’re my favorite of the two.” She had meant that as a lighthearted statement, and even nudged him playfully, but Artemis didn’t laugh. His lips were pulled down in a frown. Holly hesitated. Did she say something wrong?
The boy leaned away from the window and said, “I should get you a coffee. It is cold outside.”
“It’s fine,” Holly assured him, but he shook his head.
“I insist,” he said, and walked out of the room before she could say anything else. The sight of his back felt unusually cold.
What did she do wrong?
Butler roamed the ground floor of the manor like a silent sentinel. If asked, he would say he was keeping a nightly watch over the Fowl family. In truth, though, he simply couldn’t sleep.
Artemis’s death brought along with it strong insomnia for the bodyguard. Anytime he closed his eyes, he was plagued with visions of his charge’s soul leaving his body, and he would wake up and remind himself desperately that Artemis would be brought back, of course Artemis would be brought back. And he was. Artemis was alive again, and one would expect that to put his nightmares at ease, but all it did was target a different anxiety. After all, what if someone attacked his charge while Butler was asleep? He couldn’t stand the idea of losing him again. So, he walked the halls at night, keeping himself preoccupied with lookout.
Butler paused in his step as he heard someone descend the stairs. He wasn’t worried, though. He recognized the footsteps as those belonging to his principal. Sure enough, the boy appeared and nodded at Butler in greeting.
“Good evening,” Butler said.
“Hello, Butler.”
The bodyguard looked to the window, where the full moon shone in the sky. “Did Holly visit?”
“She did,” the boy confirmed. Butler waited for him to say more. He knew his charge enjoyed spending time with Holly and wondered what brought him away from her. He didn’t have to wait long before he explained. “I thought I could bring some warm drinks for us.”
Butler kept his expression neutral. “Of course,” he responded, heading toward the kitchen. His charge followed.
Once in the kitchen, Butler quickly began making the beverages--decaf coffee for Holly, and earl gray tea for Artemis. As he did, he kept an eye on the boy and watched as he sat down by the kitchen counter. Butler knew Artemis like the back of his hand, and he didn’t miss how strange he had acted ever since being brought back to life. It was all in the details--the way his hands fidgeted, his preferences in food, the brush strokes of his hair. Perhaps any other person would be fooled, but Butler was skilled in noticing the miniscule, and he knew better.
He brought the tea and set it on the counter in front of Artemis. The boy took one sip before immediately grimacing.
“Is there a problem?” the servant asked.
He glanced up at him before setting the cup back down. “Sorry--it’s just very bitter.”
“Really? I made it just the way you like it.”
His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he quickly said, “Is that so? I apologize. My taste buds must be different after being revived.”
“I can bring you sugar if you’d like,” Butler suggested.
“Yes, please,” the boy said gratefully.
Butler brought him the sugar container, then stood back and watched silently as he scooped way too much sugar into his tea. He waited until the drink was stirred and brought up to his lips before he spoke. “Orion loves sugar.”
He spit out his drink. Butler was prepared for this reaction, and he readily gave the boy a napkin. He frantically dabbed the tea from his clothes as he said in a high pitched voice, “Really? Isn’t that strange!”
“Orion,” Butler said, “I know it’s you.”
Orion stopped, and he sighed. His posture fell, his expression loosened, until all pretense was gone from his act as Artemis. “I am sorry, brave Butler. I know you long for Artemis, but…”
“It’s fine,” Butler told him, and Orion looked up in surprise.
“It is?”
Butler set his hands on the counter. He had been thinking about his words for a long time, yet still felt nervous as he finally said them. “I understand how traumatizing dying can be,” he began. “For all Artemis’ boasts about his mind, it can be frail at times, and I don’t blame him for it. If you were brought back to help him deal with this, then I’m fine with that.” He met Orion’s eyes, both a somber blue, and said, “Artemis, I know you’re listening from inside your mind. Whenever you’re ready to come out, I’ll be waiting.”
With his speech finished, he turned away to finish brewing Holly’s coffee. To him, he had said all that needed to be said. What he didn’t know was that he was wrong. Artemis wasn’t listening. If all this was because Artemis told Orion to step in for him, then he wouldn’t have spent as much effort hiding it from his family. No--Artemis didn’t hear him, because Artemis wasn’t there. When Orion had peeked into their mind office, he found it empty.
Artemis was missing.