Artemis

by embidedbythesand

Jean Louise was usually one to visit him, but for one thing they could not afford it - the bills and treatment had run her bank account dry. For at the age of two, Artemis Jeremiah Finch was abruptly found to have acute lymphoblastic leukemia, and her time was running out.

Ohhhhh boy. This is a long one. Just to clarify it takes place a year or two after gsaw would've, only it's not canon. And also, if I got anything medically wrong, I'm sorry. Also if I messed up Narnia, I'm sorry. Don't know much about either. Nonetheless, enjoy. (written on request)

He had spent the past four hours thirty thousand feet in the air living on peanuts. It was Atticus Finch's third time on an airplane and it still made him uneasy; he'd prefer taking the train but flying was a swift way of travel.

He had to rise at an ungodly hour of four in the morning - he was getting old, and could barely sustain a lack of rest - and have Alexandra drive him to Mobile to board the jet to fly to New York City to meet his daughter and his daughter's daughter.

Jean Louise was usually one to visit him, but for one thing, Artemis did not care to leave the comfort of the apartment. For another thing they could not afford it - the bills and treatment had run her bank account dry. For at the age of two, Artemis Jeremiah Finch was abruptly found to have acute lymphoblastic leukemia, and her time was running out.

Her grandfather and his brother had tried to help with expenses for the treatment she needed, and had managed to keep her going for the past four years. But being it in the terminal range, they could not keep her going forever. Atticus had yet to meet her except in photos and letters, so that's where he was headed.

The plane had landed as the elder had finished his package of peanuts, and Jean Louise was there to meet him. When she spotted him, she rushed towards him, and brought him in a brief embrace before taking his bag and leading the way. He took note of her mother's pearls around her neck.

"How was your flight?" She asked as they walked out of the airport.

"Well enough." he responded. "Where is she?"

"Home with her father."

She never referred to Joseph Leighton by his name; he was nameless to her. Nor was he referred to as her husband; he was not. Only as Artemis' father; that's all he was.

When she came to New York, she was already struggling financially. He was a veteran in the war with a scare on his brow struggling mentally and ten years her senior. They had shared glances and conversed in a bar before whiskey and bourbon blacked out their senses. A month later, he disappeared from the area and eight months later their daughter was born. Thirteen months later, he had reappeared to support Jean Louise and the kid.

The name Artemis was supposedly a blend of his own name, and Arthur, who had been out of sight for years (there were now rumors that he was dead). Further information showed the name was also of the greek goddess of hunt and childbirth, protector of young girls. For some reason Jean Louise felt the name was suitable.

After several encounters with uncivilized civilians - though her daughter said this was normal - they arrived to the small apartment on 45th Street. It was decorated with a shelf full of books and medicine for, and art work done by Artemis - which occasionally earned her the nickname of 'Art' - who sat on the floor brushing a doll's hair in a frilly dress at the foot of her father, whose face was hidden from view by a newspaper. Had the dress been replaced with a pair of dirty overalls, he would think he was looking in a time machine.

Soon as Jean Louise and Atticus were in the door, Joseph was out, leaving the three alone. Artemis looked up at her mother in greeting, but as soon as she spotted him she instantly looked down. She knew who he was, but this was the first time she would get to see him or hear his voice - she was too shy to talk over the phone.

"Sit. I'll get you settled in." Jean Louise picked his things up once again and brought them back to her room - he was old, and the couch would do no better for his sore back; his daughter traded places. The old man sat himself on the couch across from the chair and turned his head slightly to the left to observe her. When Jean Louise was born, her mother was certain that nobody could look like him anymore. As it turned out, Jean had been mistaken - the girl was a carbon copy!

Though when the six year old glanced up at him, he noticed she had green eyes, much like her mother and her mother's mother. Her dark hair was pulled into two pig tails. He smiled down at her as warmly as possible, she shyly smiled back in courtesy before returning to her doll.

Alexandra would've liked her, he thought. She wore dresses, she was clean, and seemed to have enough manners. She would grow to be a mature woman.

Or would have.

Jean Louise returned and planted a kiss on Artemis' head. "Were you good for daddy?"

"Yes, mama." she sounded like Scout.

She sat back up and walked to the kitchen and glanced at her coffee. "You ever learn to drink coffee?"

"No."

"Tea?"

"Please."

He returned his attention to his granddaughter, who had stood up and smoothed her dress with small hands and followed her mother into the kitchen. She tugged at her pant leg and motioned for her to come down to her level with her finger,and whispered something into her ear. Jean Louise nodded at her. The girl made her way back to him and smiled at him.

"Hey, Abbicus."

He heard Jean Louise try to hold back laughter behind her hands while trying to hide his own. Artemis reach out her arm and 'Abbicus' took it. "How do you do?"

Jean Louise came out with a trey with three mugs, a coffee pot, and milk and sugar. She set them on her coffee table and handed her father the mug already filled with tea, which he accepted and nodded in thanks. She poured coffee for herself and poured half into the third mug and filled the rest with milk before sliding it in Art's direction. Atticus gave her a questioning glance. "She likes it." was all she said.

Jean Louise sipped her coffee while Atticus sipped his tea before speaking up. "How's your arthritis?"

"Some better, sweet. How's your book comin'?"

She shrugged. "It's gettin' there." he nodded.

"And Maycomb?" she asked.

"Still tired."

"Maycomb ought to take a nap." Artemis chimed in, setting her empty cup down. They laughed.

"I think you ought to take a nap." Jean Louise said. "Rest before dinner."

The younger one groaned. "Five more minutes?"

"No."

"Two more minutes?"

"No."

"One more minute."

"Artemis."

Atticus tried to sustain his laugher (and failed).

"But I wanna talk to Abbicus!"

"Abbicus will be here when you wake up."

The girl sighed in defeat and got out, once again smoothing her dress. Her mother followed and took down a bottle of medicine from the shelf, and pulled out one tablet. She went into the kitchen and poured water before holding out the pill to Artemis. "Open."

She girl obeyed before gulping her water. "They taste bad."

"They'll help you feel better."

"I don't like it."

"I know, baby, I know."

A few minutes later Jean Louise returned alone, and poured herself another cup of coffee.

Atticus looked at her humorously. "Abbicus?"

She smiled at him. "That's how she said it when she was little and the name just stuck."

He looked at her bedroom door. "She reminds me of-"

"Aunty?" She chuckled. He nodded, eyes beaming.

She set down her mug. "She's been that way. Wantin' to wear tutus and play ballerinas and baby dolls." She grimiced, still smiling. "Makes me sick."

"Are you sure she's your's?" he laughed.

"I'd question it if I didn't see you in 'er."

"I noticed."

"She more than just looks like you, she acts like you too. She's always polite, and reads, and loves to argue." She smiled at the last part

"I don't argue."

"Lawyers do."

"Lawyers simply make their point acr-"

"In an argumentative manner."

"That's our job."

"You're arguing right now." She grinned at him.

He sighed. "I'm glad Artemis ain't like you. I don't think I could take it." She just laughed.

Dinner was Chinese take out, as there wasn't much to cook. Little conversation was made other than an occasional "Remember when…" and reflecting on it, it usually ended with light laughter. Artemis laughed too, but had no idea what she was laughing at. It make them laugh more.

In the evening, after Artemis had been changed and sent to bed, Atticus laid in bed and read. Jean Louise was in the living room, working on her book. The only sounds in the apartment were her type writer.

Atticus slowly eased himself out of the creaky bed to get water. However, when he walked out of his room, he heard muffled talking from Artemis' room. Not being able to understand what she was saying, he creaked open her door to see her standing in her wardrobe.

"My dear girl, you're in it! Everything you see from the lamp post, the castle, the Eastern Sea is Narnia!" Artemis said in a deep voice. Atticus noticed the red scarf around her neck. She was holding the same doll she had earlier.

"Well this is an awfully big wardrobe!" she said in a higher voice, she was moving the doll, implying it was the one who was saying it.

"I'm sorry," she said reverting back to the deep voice. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is-" Then she noticed him in the door way, and gasped. Atticus chuckled down at her. The flustered girl dropped the doll and yanked off her scarf.

"What are you playing?" she did not answer, and looked down.

So the older man opened the door a little more and let himself in, hands behind his back. He smiled at her, trying to give the girl ease.

Finally Artemis looked up at him. "N-Narnia."

"Oh?"

"They're books." She said, trying to give explanation. "I-it's about a girl, who goes into her wardrobe on adventures in…" her voice grew quiet.

Atticus crouched down to her level, wincing as he did so. "Well you're a very imaginative little girl." She smiled slightly. "Just like your mother."

She looked up at him. "Like mama?" Atticus nodded.

"What was she like?"

Atticus smiled and thought back, while leading her by hand to her bed. "Well, she certainly wasn't like you. She didn't like dresses and dolls. She wore overalls and got dirty and played with her brother-"

"What was he like?" Artemis asked, hopping into the bed, pulling up her covers.

"Not much different."

"What did he look like?" Artemis' eyes twinkled. Now that he thought about it, they looked like Jean's eyes.

Atticus reached into the pocket of his night shirt and pulled out two small photographs - he carried their pictures everywhere - and showed both to her. Artemis first looked at Jem's photo - a school picture from when he was eleven - and then looked quizzically at the beaming woman in the photograph. "Who's that?" she asked.

Atticus tilted the front towards himself. "That's your mama's mama, your grandma Jean."

Artemis examined her. "She's pretty." she said softly

"She was, sweet."

"Mama said she didn't know her." She told him, still looking at Jean.

"No, she didn't," Atticus adjusted his glasses and sighed.

"What happened to her?"

"She died when Mama was two. A heart attack."

"Was she sick?"

"Yes."

"That's how old I was when I got sick."

"For a sick girl, I reckon you're mighty strong."

she smiled. "…Abbicus?"

"Yes?"

"Am I going to die?"

Atticus felt his heart break. It wasn't fair. She was so young, so so young. She had her whole life ahead of her, and already she's getting it pulled away from her, piece by piece. Second by second. And she didn't even know it. She didn't understand what she had, or what death was.

He ignored the question, and instead went across the room and picked up her scarf and doll. "Tell me about the wardrobe."

Artemis beamed.

For the next ten minutes she gleefully explained the whole plot about a wardrobe that somehow led to a magical place called Narnia. She told the tale with so much enthusiasm and thoughts, he barely even listened to said tale itself. Her voice was almost like a bird singing.

"Will you read to me?" she asked holding out the book.

Atticus took it from her hands and looked at it. "It's mighty worn." he chuckled. "How many times have you read this?"

"A million!" she stretched out her arms. "Mama read it to me all the time."

"Does mama read to you alot?"

"She'd read these to me, and she'd read the newspapers, pieces of her book, whatever she had."

Atticus' cheeks grew tired from smiling so much. He remembered back to when Jean Louise was Scout and how he would read to her and Jem whatever he had in his hands, and how they never grew sick of it. Artemis was the same way. He opened the book and began to read. "Chapter one…"

Unbeknownst to the two, Jean Louise sat in the door way the whole time, smile never faltering.

...

Artemis Jeremiah Finch died thirteen days later in her bed, just as Jean Louise had wanted. She had stopped breathing in the night and had gone peacefully. Also, as Jean Louise had wanted.

The last two weeks had been filled with laughter and endless story telling. When the time came for Atticus to go, Artemis clung to him, and her mother had to physically pull her off of his legs. Atticus kneeled down and promised her she'd see him again, and she smiled. He didn't know what hurt more, the fact that he was lying through his teeth and she believed him, or that he never would see her again. And going through the gate to his plane and blinking back his tears was nearly impossible.

He hasn't even been home for twenty four hours when the telephone had awoken him. As he made his way to the ringing, he prayed to God that it wouldn't be Jean Louise on the other end. His prayers were not answered.

"A-Atticus?"

No.

"D-did I wake you?" her voice was raw.

No.

"Yes but that's alright," he said tiredly. He heard her choke back a sob.

No.

"Is….is every…." his voice trailed off. Nothing had to be said. He just listened to her cry on the other end of the phone, trying his hardest not to cry himself. This is not what Jean Louise needed to hear right not.

"I'm sorry…" was all he mumbled.

After sobs had subsided, and condolences exchanged, Jean Louise made plans for a funeral. She didn't want it to be in the busy city, and surely not everybody could afford a trip to the Big Apple.

"I want her buried in Maycomb. Next to Jem." Atticus nodded. He didn't know why, she couldn't see him (thank goodness.)

"Jean Louise?" he said hoarsely.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"I'll see you soon."

As soon has he hung up the receiver, Atticus collapsed into a puddle of tears.

The funeral had been depressingly beautiful. Flowers had buried her coffin and Jean Louise clung to Artemis' scarf. Joseph sat two seats down bobbing his knee, looking pathetic. Alexandra had never met the child and she was fighting back her sobs, and failing. Jack was the same as he was at Jean and Jems' funerals: looking down mournfully. Atticus just looked ahead, staring at her tiny coffin. Her doll was buried with her.

After the service and burial was over and everybody had left, Atticus found Jean Louise sitting in between her daughter and her brothers' headstones. Atticus took a seat next to her.

There was silence for a few moments, before Jean Louise spoke.

"I never wanted to have children." she looked at him. "Remember when I told you that?"

He nodded.

She continued. "But then she was born, and I saw her. She was so…." tears formed again. "…beautiful I.."

She wiped her face. "I never knew you could love somebody so much."

"I didn't either." Atticus said and looked at her. "Then you two were born." he motioned to Jem's grave with a sad smile.

Jean Louise looked at his headstone. She chuckled darkly. "This is the first time I've visited him." he ran her fingers down the concrete. "You think she found her way?"

He looked at his daughter quizzically. "To what?"

"To Jem and Mama."

Atticus put and arm around her. "I reckon she did."

She took Artemis' scarf off and brought it to her nose and sniffed before putting it down.

Atticus pulled her closer. "Why, she's probably up there playin' dolls."

Jean Louise quietly laughed through her tears. "Runnin' circles around Jem and drivin' him crazy."

"All while Jean teases him to stop being such a girl." They laughed and cried at the same time.

"Alexandra would've liked her." Jean Louise chuckled. "She was the perfect little lady."

"Anybody would've liked her." Atticus' voice grew thick and hoarse again. "She was just perfect."

"A mockingbird." she whispered. He just nodded.

Atticus couldn't help but feel that God had sinned.