Artemis fowl the second was not a man of many emotions, everyone knew this. This part of his character has always fascinated some, while horrifying others, but to be honest, Artemis did not care in the slightest. All he cared about now was his younger brother Myles, who was as of present, weeks- perhaps days away from death. Cancer, a mutation of the cells causing abnormal growths in the body, death. Artemis squeezed his eyes closed in a pointless attempt to remove the image of a pale, sickly Myles from his mind. It didn't work of course, he had a perfect memory. How did this happen? He knew how it happened of course, he knew everything there was to know about the sickness killing his brother. Why did this happen? Artemis was so absorbed in his own personal hell he almost missed his brother waking up.
"Ah- temis?" Myles's voice was raspy from coughing. And screaming. Artemis could already see the pain in his brothers eyes.
"Yes Myles?" Artemis was already pressing the button to administer Myles's final round of pain killers. Please sleep Myles. I don't want you to hurt any longer
"Where's- where is Ho- Holl- Holly?" Myles's voice was already losing strength.
"Gone Myles, she went home and never came back." Captain Holly Short of the LEPrecon. She left after they had gotten him used to his new body, helped him remember his life. Afterwards, she left. He missed her sometimes. Now especially.
"When...will...she-" Myles's eyes slid closed for the last time. The sound of a flat line seemed to consume Artemis. He was only half aware of his mother's screaming, his father's tears, Beckett's confusion, Butler's quiet vigil, and his own cold numbness. The sound of his mother saying, rather screaming, something at him woke him from his stupor.
"Do something! Do something Artemis! Help him!" Angeline Fowl was on the verge of another complete mental breakdown.
"I cannot mother. Myles is dead and even I cannot find death." His mother went on to scream more things at him, but he was not listening. Myles is dead. Death. He was four years old. Four is Death.