I've been meaning to write this fic for a loooong time and have a lot of neat ideas. This ain't my first rodeo but I'm not very good at it and I think I have commitment issues but what the hey. Let me know what you think.

I was originally looking to focus on Foaly, Caballine and Opal in this fic but once I started writing, I realized there is plenty of stuff I want to write about Artemis, Holly, Mulch and pretty much the whole gang anyhow, but the focal points for now are Artemis' resurrection and Opal's ghost. If those are sucky then tell me! :)

Fowl Estate, 6 months after Techno-Crash

Foaly would never admit it, but he was enjoying being a horse. As a general rule the centaur didn't get out much, unless of course he was jogging with Caballine or scouting for a decent-sized area to let loose one of his 'crazy experiments' (in the words of Commander Kelp, a six-foot self-building mini replica of Mount Doom, complete with real lava, is neither permitted nor a good idea to be trying out on LEP premises. Boo.) and being above ground was just an added bonus. Simulated wind just didn't cut it, he found himself noticing. Man, that should be on a t-shirt.

He could hear Artemis' weakened gasps directly behind him; his friend was not used to riding even before the unexpected amnesia and Foaly could almost hear the previously piped nutrient liquid swishing around in his stomach and threatening to be ejected... lovely.

Artemis himself was delirious, shocked by the sudden return of all his nervous, motor and cognitive functions. He could hear a loud, constant drone in his ears, animated yet relentless. Clearly my eardrums must be readjusting. But he could hear the steady clop of hooves beating against the dirt easily enough - it turned out that this drone was the short elf-woman reciting some sort of story - but he couldn't understand; the words seemed to melt into each other and every so often would be punctuated with a short bark of Gnommish which only served to confuse him further. She was too excited, he mused, to note that he was having trouble processing language at the moment. His whole body felt like it had been submerged in thick fluid (which incidentally, it had) and lethargy had his arms and legs flopping around like a fish on the centaur's back. On top of everything, he had a migraine and each thud of hooves seem to puncture into his skull.

Are these my friends?

The giant who had hoisted him up earlier was walking alongside, his eyes darting around in the manner that animals do when checking for danger. Looking at him hurt his head more. Now something was stuck deep inside his brain, a maggot wedged underneath layers of neural matter, wriggling periodically and trying to prise its slimy body out... out!

He slumped forward on the horse - centaur - as another wave of lethargy swept through his body. Out indeed, out like a light.

The air shimmered with residual energy. Near the area where Artemis' spirit had re-entered his body, invisible, a rabble of spirits had begun to congregate. You see, this would-be resurrection was not unnoticed in the spirit realm. In fact, it was quite a remarkable event to ghosts, seeing as the number one priority for most ghosts is not, as you might think, revenge, but rather just a chance at the life denied them.

Opal Koboi was not most ghosts. She wasn't most anything really. When she discovered that her mortal coils had not all been severed, she was more than delighted. Oh, the fun she would have, the revenge she would enact, the people she would haunt! She couldn't care less about returning to her own corpse. This was about vengeance and then maybe just a bit of fun. Opal wasn't here to admire the spectacle, which itself was quite a bore, but rather to use all the magical energy in the air to strengthen her ghost form. Who knew, maybe she'd become so strong she could just smite everyone she knew - because everyone she knew, she hated.

She was very new to the whole 'ghost' thing, though. Learning to be a terrifying ghost is a long, arduous task (typically, poltergeists take around four months before being powerful enough to move their first object) and even with her fiery, vengeful nature, it was not something she could master easily, especially without experience.

So Opal floated silently, eavesdropping on the busybody ghosts in the area as they chattered excitedly. How had the corpse of the boy lasted so long without any apparent signs of wear and tear? The general opinion was that the boy wouldn't last very long. One specter mused that the boy's memories would be scrubbed clean, and he would be like a baby; not exactly a desirable existence.

She slid near the specter, a hulk of a thing with pink-tinged skin and a large blister on his neck - a hallmark of bubonic plague - which he scratched constantly. He seemed wise and experienced though, maybe she could somehow kill him, drink his essence and absorb his power. Or maybe he could just give her some advice, if she was feeling diplomatic... whatever.

"Excuse me?" She said sweetly. "I need some help. I just became a ghost and ... I don't understand anything..."

The specter looked around for a minute, then resumed picking at his blister and snorted haughtily. "Obviously."

She swallowed her indignance. "I ... what do you mean?"

"I mean, you don't seem to have figured out visibility yet. You are not a ghost, you are just a spirit."

She waited patiently.

After a minute, he sighed and let go of his blister. "At the moment, you are just a tethered spirit. You have unfinished business but you aren't strong enough to do anything."

"I tell you this because I take pity on new spirits like you. God knows how many ghosts I have helped in my time..." He paused and threw his head up to the heavens. "You hear that? I HELP people! Whenever this is over, I had better get a seat reserved somewhere up there!"

Opal would have rolled her eyes if she had any. Not even Foaly could pull of theatrics like this.

"Name's Henry," the specter said, and held out a rotting hand as if expecting her to be able to shake it. "Right. Anyway. See, being a spirit is horribly boring. You can't do anything, can't talk to anyone down below..." he motioned to the ground, "and you are just stuck here, floating for eternity. Some have been stuck like that for years and years; I would personally rather be burning in Hell than stuck like that."

"You might think ghosts are transparent, but that isn't true. How do you think ghosts can move things? Ghosts are those of us who can manipulate our form at will, so when we want, we are invisible and undetectable... but if we want," he leaned over and plucked a leaf from a tree, "we can do things."

"Do things," Opal echoed. "Excellent. I think you will prove to be very helpful. Maybe I won't need to suck your essence from you after all!"

Henry shrugged noncommittally and resumed his scratching. "By all means, try, you wouldn't be the first."

Holly's apartment, Haven

Several hours later, Artemis came to in a dark, cramped room. His legs touched the edge of the bed he was sprawled on. His common sense told him that this was a fairy bed, and it was oddly comfortable. Moreover, his headache was gone. He creaked his eyes open slightly.

The room was small - or it appeared small because of the giant sitting in a chair next to the bed, reading a magazine. Somehow it struck him as odd - the seven feet of solid muscle didn't seem like the type to indulge in that kind of thing. Artemis pulled himself up with difficulty and sat back in the bed.

"I'm sorry, does that magazine say... 'Fingernail Care for Elves'?"

Butler looked up, then shut the magazine hastily. "This was the only thing in the room." He gestured around him. "Welcome back to Haven."

Artemis raised an eyebrow, detecting the sullenness in Butler's tone. "You don't like it here?"

"No, I love it," Butler remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "This place does wonders to my spine." He gestured to his current position, which was more or less a crouch. Butler was not a man that liked being confined into a small space, but indoors in Haven, there really wasn't much choice. He found himself missing the highrise ceilings of Dr. Argon's psych ward. The paintings were horrible, but at least he could breathe!

"I see," Artemis replied, and peered over at his own toes, which stuck out over the edge of the bed. "It doesn't seem to be much good for me, either. How long was I out?"

Butler checked his watch. "It's touching on 5 a.m, so looks like a full fourteen hours."

The door burst open to reveal a chirpy, loud and overall surprisingly happy elf. Normally, Holly was not a morning person, but today she felt more confident, somehow. Things were finally looking up. "Rise and shine, Mud Boy!"

Still bleary-eyed, he looked up at her, feeling a glimpse of recognition in his addled mind. A past memory flitted through his head - someone short, or indeed Short, dangerously pretty, fierce and loud. who called him Mud Boy a lot. He rubbed his nose where he could feel ghost-bruises from where he was suddenly certain she'd punched him. "Holly?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, that's my name. Butler, did he... did he forget again?" She looked worriedly over at the man.

Butler shrugged. "I don't think so. He seems to remember Haven and fairies, in spite of the fact that he was asleep the entire time you were telling the story."

Artemis cleared his throat. "It makes me uncomfortable when you talk about me in third person, as if I'm not here."

Holly kneaded her eyes and sat down on the bed. "Artemis... how much exactly do you remember?"

He smiled tightly. "Some of it. I remember little snatches of things. Your name is Holly Short. You like punching things." He looked over at Butler. "Domovoi. You were my butler, I think. But I have a feeling that your job was more to do with protection, like a bodyguard." His eyes dropped pointedly to the Sig Sauer suspended in its holster.

Butler flinched at the use of his first name. "You usually just call me Butler."

Artemis frowned. "Well that's just rude."

"No, my surname is Butler."

"Oh."

A gesture from Holly. "Were you even listening when I told you the whole story?"

"I was feeling quite light-headed," admitted Artemis. "And the pony's - I mean, centaur's back was comfortable. I may have drifted off."

"Great." She sighed. "Probably wouldn't have helped anyway."

Butler's lip curled. "I'm more concerned that you don't remember Foaly, considering you just called him a pony..."

Artemis scratched his head. "Are we close?"

Holly nodded impassively. "That's one way of putting it. Your wedding was going to be in September. He was devastated."

He looked mortified for a moment before he realized she was pulling his leg. Then, humbly accepting that he had no suitable witty retort, he shrugged. "Alright. So what's the course of action?"

This was up to Butler, who shifted his position slightly so as to crush his other leg for a while. "After you rest up, we'll head to Foaly's. He needs to do some check-ups and we can decide what to do from there."

"I feel fine," Artemis reassured confidently as he planted his feet on the floor and stood. "Let's go straight to Foaly." However, as he took a wobbly step forward the world swam before his eyes and he fell flat on his face.

Holly winced and went to help him up. "Easy. cowboy," she warned, steadying him. "Take it easy."

"Looks like you're low on energy," Butler noted as the boy - or now, young man - flopped back onto the bed with a groan. "I'll go fix up something to eat."

"Get me something too!" called Holly as the giant left the room. "I'm starving."

As Artemis furiously examined the only thing in eyeshot, the ceiling, Holly risked a worried glance at her friend. Well, more like a stare. Six long months she had yearned to see that face. She had never mourned because she, even though she wouldn't admit it to herself, wouldn't have been able to deal with knowing Artemis was gone forever ... so she refused to believe it.

He looked strangely different, mostly through his expression. Gone was the overconfident, snarky resting face. Gone was the wiser face of the boy who knew what it was to live, to love, to lose. Now he just looked confused. It was still him, though, that she was sure of. Artemis was back.

A comfortable silence descended over them. To Holly, it felt like the quiet before the storm. She knew there was so much work ahead of them and had a feeling the next few weeks were going to be emotional, stressful and just plain irritating. But hey, it was worth it. She just hoped it wasn't going to be Atlantis Complex all over again.

"Holly?"

"Mhm?"

"Were we ever an item?"

All sappy sentiments forgotten, Holly spluttered and her fingers automatically curled into a fist (a reflex reaction she still had from college). "What?"

He reddened slightly. "I don't mean... I mean why are you really helping me this much? Letting me into your place and looking after me..."

She frowned. "I told you, Artemis. We're your friends. That's what friends do."

"I see." He contemplated this at length, then spoke slowly. "I guess I'm just not used to the concept."

"You are. You just don't remember," Holly corrected. "For now, relax. Respect my hospitality! And don't touch my stuff, or I'll shoot you."

Something told him she wasn't kidding.

Thanks for reading. Please review, follow etc. because I really want to rev the engine on this story and nothing does that better than knowing people are reading it!