Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl or Batman.
Prologue: Never Never
"Teach me." He said, his little boy's voice as hard as stone, his eyes as cold as ice and glinting with all the intelligence and determination of someone centuries older. "Teach me, Butler, so that it will never happen again."
The giant manservant looked down at his eight-year-old charge sadly. No child's eyes should have witnessed what those deep, glacial blue eyes had seen. The few traces of innocence once in the boy's face were gone as if they had never been. "Very well, Master Artemis."
Earlier--10:37 pm, Crime Alley, Gotham City.
"That was a fascinating movie, Father. Although, there were several major plot flaws. For example the part where--" Artemis said excitedly, swinging his hands and pulling his parent's hands along with him. He looked up into his father's smiling face as he was interrupted. The wealthy Wayne-Fowl family was on the last week of their annual six-month stay in Gotham City, Angeline Wayne's childhood home. As part of an agreement with her husband, they spent half of every year in Ireland, living in Fowl Manor, the ancestral residence of Artemis Fowl I, and the other half in Wayne Manor, on the borders of Gotham. Little Artemis Wayne-Fowl held dual citizenship.
"Come now, Arty, not everyone can be as intelligent as yourself. But perhaps we could compose a letter to the producers of The Mask of Zorro proposing a better plot for their next movie. Would you like that, Arty?" He asked.
"That would be ideal, Father. Shall we begin once we arrive back at Fowl Manor next week?"
"I don't know, Arty, I may be busy. Your mother could probably help you though."
The eight-year-old turned his head to look at Angeline Wayne-Fowl, who smiled down at him. "Can we, Mother?"
"Of course, Arty, we'll--"
"Hand over the money!"
Artemis Wayne-Fowl II immediately analyzed the appearance of the man who had just stepped out of Crime Alley's numerous shadows. Dirty, scowling, torn clothes, short hair, tattooed, and, most importantly, holding a gun aimed right at his father's head. It did not take a genius (though he was one) to put two and two together: thief. Of all times to give Butler a day off...The eight year automatically calculated trajectories for the path of the bullet, possible reaction time and defensive strategies. A thousand plans flickered through his mind in a second, but each was discarded. For all his massive intellect, there was nothing he could do.
Artemis Fowl Sr. stepped in front of his family, shielding them with his body. He began to speak in a calming tone to the armed man. He reached for his wallet, but the man panicked and pulled the trigger. It wasn't like the movies--no slow motion, no silent cry. And there was blood--Blood--more blood than Artemis had ever seen. Even as his father fell the thief stepped forwards and grabbed Angeline's necklace. 'No,' thought Artemis distantly as the man shot his mother. 'Those pearls were Father's gift to Mother for her birthday. You mustn't take them.' As his mother's body toppled, landing parallel to her husband's, the necklace snapped and jewels tumbled over the cobblestones. Between the two corpses Artemis Fowl II stood, straight backed, eyes dry, all of his being focused on the criminal running down the alley. His mind cried to his body to run, to pursue, but his legs disobeyed. 'Shock.' he thought distantly.
The police arrived fifteen minutes later, sirens blaring, to find an eight-year-old boy standing between the bodies of his parents, his Armani suit stained with blood. His mind was locked in the memory of the robbery, re-playing it time and time again in perfect detail. The police managed to get him sitting down and found a phone number to call for his 'next of kin'. Butler arrived three minutes after the phone call was placed. He spent a full ten minutes with the bodies of his employers (none of the police dared ask such a large, obviously dangerous man to leave) before remembering that he still had duties to attend to. The manservant found Artemis huddled in a blanket against the wall, his eyes still staring into nothingness.
"Master Artemis." Butler said gently, placing one massive hand on the thin shoulder.
"Butler." the boy responded, his soulless gaze shifting onto the man's face. Butler shuddered. There was something distinctly wrong with the emotionlessness of those icy blue eyes. "Butler—I couldn't do anything. I had no control.
"Butler—I want to fight. I never want to be helpless again.
"Teach me." A cold fire sprang up in those flat eyes, a dark and bloody rage against the world. Never-NEVER would anyone harm another while he could stop it. And never again would he allow anyone close enough to hurt him. "Teach me, Butler, so that it will never happen again."
"Very well, Master Artemis."
A/N: I will not add another chapter to this story until I get at least 3 reviews, good or bad. Sorry! I'm just mean that way :)