Disclaimer: Artemis Fowl and other characters in this work all belong to Eoin Colfer, the title and the lyrics in the story are all from the song Papa can you hear me? (wow would've never guessed that)
A/N: Ugh, I was debating whether or not to put this up. It's way too short for my liking. Anyway, this tiny thing popped into my head when I heard Lea Michelle's version of this song, it's beautiful.
Papa Can You Hear Me?
Failure wasn't something Artemis was familiar with.
So why did he feel this way?
May the light,
Illuminate the night, the way your spirit illuminates my soul
He felt like the past years of his life were a scam. His entire childhood didn't mean anything.
Because there was Myles and Beckett, playing and laughing with their father, having fun with him, actually talking to him, nothing like the formal words he exchange when he was a child.
Papa, can you see me?
The thick bile of jealousy rose in his throat. Because it wasn't fair.
Papa, can you help me not be frightened?
Oh great humor, the things he's said to himself throughout the years each time he brilliantly stole and thieved something from someone, Life isn't fair.
Because it isn't. It takes things away, and it makes good turn to bad. It makes the innocent hurt, and the guilty prosper. It lets you hurt others.
Now that I'm alone
The depravity of his childhood, the stone walls between himself and his father, strong stone barriers against Artemis feeling anything other than parental love had built up as he'd grown. Built up without his knowledge, suffocating parts of him he didn't know existed. Parts that hurt to linger on.
Papa, please forgive me
He understood now. They messed up. His parents. He was the 'experimental child' raised to be just like his father, to fill larger footsteps than most could bear, but Artemis had always liked a challenge.
Now, Myles and Beckett were being raised to live. They were being raised to be happy, enjoy things in life, raised to be good citizens.
Artemis had been a monster once. He had been raised to become a monster. One who cared little about the people they were hurting, the lives they were changing. He kidnapped someone, he almost killed someone.
Papa, don't you know I had no choice?
But he was getting better. He is better.
It just hurt to see.
The moon is twice as lonely
The childhood he missed out on.
And the stars are half as bright
He didn't linger on it. Suppressing his feelings, chancing future emotional drawbacks. Because it hurt too much. Because he could only fiddle with time so much, and this wasn't something he was able to change. This was something he had no control over.
Papa, how I love you
Papa, how I need you
Papa, how I miss you
Kissing me goodnight...
