Kay, so… No 'My Heart Was Home Again' update for very good reasons (surprise road trip… and then classes, and a choir concert I had to be a manager for. And now I'm sick. Sigh.) But, here is a Batman/AF cross over I am trying out. Maybe: If I get enough positive response. I might post it anyway, but I would like to see the market for Batman/Artemis Fowl lovers there are. So let me know if you like it. Review, Le doth hoil? Por Favor?

Oh, and it shan't be updated to frequently, as it is not my main focus right now. But still, it seems cool...

The summary:

Ireland

When a large shipment of illegal narcotic drugs appears in a Dublin port, Artemis Fowl is intrigued. A semi-official informant of the Gardaí, he is instantly brought in as a consultant of the case. But the seemingly small problem turns into a much larger scale when the drug users start to die off in mass amounts. A disease is infecting them, and spreading. Fast. Soon, even the non-addicts will fall victim to the deadly strain unless Artemis can track its origins.

Gotham

After the communications fall out, Gotham has slowly rebuilt itself on its ruins, and has turned back into the prosperous- if crime-ridden- metropolis of before. Bruce Wayne is as public as before, if not more so, driving charities and projects to rebuild the lives of the citizens. The Batman is also hard at work, caring for his routine of, if boring, crime stopping.

But when an odd bunch of Irish come asking for his aid, and claiming Gotham is the origin of a catastrophic outbreak, he is caught off guard. He must find the culprit of this heinous attack before Dublin, and also Gotham, fall prey to a seemingly asymptomatic, fatal virus.

The Personal Battle

Artemis himself has been having trouble in coming to terms with his new body. While he is patient with the slow-returning memories, the increasing amount of impairments start showing and wrecking him emotionally. These imparities start mounting and Artemis starts breaking: For what is he, besides his intellect and what he offers the world in skill?

Bruce Wayne: Batman. The two have become almost synonymous in his mind, blurring into each other until there is nothing left but the 'bat'. Soon, he can't decide whether Bruce is the mask, or Batman is. What is he, really? When had the line been taken away, until he had truly become that otherworldly thing?

And then the rage starts mounting. Did anyone truly know how much pain he had been through? How much despair and agony?

When could he find himself again; amongst the pain, the bat, the rage, the rage…

Alliances will be forged. Ties will be broken. Identities revealed. Lives will be changed, and, most of all:

The world must be saved.

Again.

Chapter One

Dublin Ferry Port

Terminal 5

Ireland

The ocean was black and dark as it rocked soothingly against the cargo ship, its old hull still and quiet. The workers in the ship yard loaded the last of the cargo boxes onto the 'rolo'- roll in, roll out- and then slid onto the concrete platform. There, the boxes would be sorted by shipper and receiver, company and stock; it all depended on the package.

Tonight, however, as one of the workers pulled the last remaining crate out onto the concrete, all the containers would not get sorted. There would be one to throw quite a wrench into things.

Generally, the attitude of the shipyard reflected that of the day's activities: usually there were inspectors to skirt, and boss' to pacify. They were usually practically and well-dressed. They usually repeated pleasantries like a mantra. But not today. It was Christmas Eve, with the last shift on duty working. Even this shift was coming to an end, and the workers congregating around the lamp posts for light.

Patrick Shaumery was one of the younger workers, only two months on the job and already proving himself to be quite the klutz. From light banter to ridicule, he would receive it all with a smile as he dropped everything. (Something about a very accurate rogue wave was mentioned to the Port Manager when asked about the ruined crate of two thousand Ferro Rocher chocolates. No one knew what really happened.)

Patrick's hands were clad in warm gloves to combat the Christmas Eve chill, although the temperature still got through into his bones. His feet slipped on ice as he grasped the sharp metal of the door latch, making him slide forward into the door.

The silent was night was met with resounding thud, and Patrick stood rubbing his head.

"Ouch."

"Ouch is right, ye clumsy eejit. What's yer problem?"

Patrick shoved a hand through his caramel hair. "Ehm… just the normal, I guess. Sorry…"

The other man: Mark, a senior on the team, grumbled and stomped out his cigarette before lumbering over to help tug over the crate.

Until the handle came off in his hand.

"What the..." his eyes squinted in confusion, and a web of lines fanned across his face as he studied the screw holes in the metal. He reached a gloved hand up, fingering the long, thin marks scathing their way across the metal paneling.

Patrick leaned over his shoulder and studied the lines with pursed lips.

"Those look like… saw marks?"

Mark nodded in dismay and straightened. He waved a hand to his comrades, yelling out, "Eh, ye freakin' eejits! Come see this! It seems ol' Patrick was in the right this time! It seems like we got ourselves some good-old fashioned tampering! What-"

His question was cut off abruptly as the cargo box door was slammed opened noisily. Men swarmed Mark, bringing him to his knees with the prodding of their guns. As Patrick spun around to run, a light was flashed in his eyes, and the unmistakable shape of a gun barrel forced its way into his vision.

The world was only blinding light and voices, the silhouettes of armed men revolved around him. Screaming, yelling, pain, death…

Shots fired.

Bodies fell, their soft thud echoing down the suddenly silent port. As heat rushed to Patrick's arm, and light, heady feeling of blood loss reached him, his eyes started shutting. The breaths came short and few between.

The last sound he heard was the sound of cargo being unloaded from above him, and the door shutting squeaky and slowly.

So… maybe? Let me know! Oh, and it will have a very much-better image soon, the sketch is sitting on my drafting table right now. It should be down soon.

Theme song for this, 'Automaton- Abney Park' is pefect... it sounds like the main description for both Batman and Artemis Fowl. The link will be in my profile. Listen, if you want to! It's friggan' awesome!