AN: Hello! Yes, say it with me, yet another angst one shot. I honestly think my one shots could turn out no other way. Humour one shots are, for me, impossible, and I am only intelligent enough to be able to write 2 genres *looks sheepish* Anyway, this one is about Artemis after news of the Fowl star's sinking. So how will Arty-poo react to this misfortune? *sniff*

Oh, yeah, and Jerri, I am not trying to antagonise you here, but please do not flame my fics unless they are bad and genuinely warrant it. I am glad to receive constructive criticism, but not undeserved ones. You yourself admitted my writing wasn't bad later, so… Note: I am not insulting you, and I would rather bury the hatchet, but… apparently you show some reluctance. Oh, yes, and I am writing this angst one shot in direct defiance at your comment about me stopping writing these.

And for the 'I've read your other fics' reviewer, thanks for your candidness. I appreciate it. However, from my reviews, it appears 'Cold Comfort' was pretty decent, so… I am sort of vindicated :-) I strongly suspect you are A5H2M8, but as I said, I am not angry, and indeed I thank you. I'm not that small-hearted, y'know.

And also, thank you all my other reviewers for Cold Comfort, thanks greatly, I really appreciate all your comments, con. crit, and so forth. Special thanks to Nyghtvision, That Aerin, and Chuthulupenguin, for your con crit AND nice comments :-) As I said, I love well thought out con. crit.

And Angel without wings, I have toned down the lexicon in this fic :-) you are right, I probably did overdo it last time round. Back to basics :-)

Also, I apologise for those of you whom Jerri insulted, it's my fault really, she has a vendetta against me, and you guys were dragged into it. Thank you once again.

So… all of you guys, enjoy! And please review, or I will be unaware of you existence. I naturally assume the amount of reviewers = the amount of people who have read this fic. Subsequently, I also presume the amount of nice reviews = the amount of people who like this fic. Even if your review has to be extremely short (Note: I love long reviews, though), please take the time. I live for those little things. Okay, I write for them. Same difference.

Whoa, long AN. More than half the length ;-) Oh, yes, and Nyghtvision, I especially love your reviews, they make my day :-)

Also, thanks for including my fic on your selective site, I am checking it out now (the link didn't work the last time) Looks good from here, though (looks impressed) Good luck with it anyway! Um… how do I send you the AN? E-mail? Just tell me.

So, to reiterate… enjoy the fic!

Genii feel pain too

Butler stared at the television screen, uncomprehending. The Fowl Star had just sunk. All its passengers had followed it to its fiery demise, or were drowning in the cold Arctic Ocean. There were no reported survivors. None. None. The word kept reverberating in his mind, shutting out all other sensory perceptions.

"News of the Fowl Star's tragic sinking has just come in… sources indicate that the cause was due to the explosion of an engine in the rea-"

Butler snorted even in his grief. The Mafia had done their work efficiently. Of course they had bought the police officers and the KGB officials before embarking on this audacious move. One did not trifle lightly with the Fowls.

Tears came unbidden to his eyes. His uncle, the only father he had ever known, was dead. Juliet had hidden herself in her room, refusing to come out even for meals. Both of them had been orphaned early in their life. Their father had been killed in an assassination attempt on the Israeli President, and their mother had been collateral damage in the shootout. Their uncle had taken them in and fostered them under his loving care, even with the onerous burden of his job. He shut his eyes.

Angeline Fowl had barricaded herself in the chaise lounge. He worried for her. Her sanity showed signs of slipping. She had loved her husband dearly, and the news had hit her hard. Too hard, maybe. In a day, the entire household had fallen to bits, perhaps never to recover again.

Suddenly, he raised his head and resolutely walked to the door. Master Artemis needed him. Prodigy he may be, but he was still a child, and he would not be emotionally equipped to deal with such grief and pain so early in life. Genii felt pain too. Without his father here, and with his mother debilitated by her grief, he would be alone, all alone, in this traumatic moment. He walked into the study, knocking lightly on the door before he made his entrance.

"Ah, Butler, I was just about to call for you," Artemis said in a normal tone of voice. He was seated at the computer, cool as can be.

Butler was perplexed, but didn't let it show. Years of experience had honed his ability to hold an impassive poker face, even when faced with the most shocking of situations.

"I am about to undertake an enterprise in Egypt, and I will of course require your company. Mother always frets when I go away from home unsupervised and unguarded." He sniffed.

"Master Fowl, perhaps you do not know as of yet, but your father… Your father is dead," Butler said as gently as possible.

"Oh, yes, that. I know," Artemis replied in an indifferent tone, totally unfazed. "Now, back to important matters. We shall leave on the twenty second of-"

Butler regarded him gravely. "It's all right to grieve, Artemis," he said very quietly.

"Grief? Grief is for pathetic fools with no self control or willpower," Artemis replied bitterly. "I am not one of them. Save your platitudes, Butler," Artemis said, looking him in the eye. "I could not care less about it," his harsh voice continued emphatically, though his eyes were full.

Butler did not say anything. There were times to speak, but this was not one of them. His eyes were very wise as he regarded Artemis.

"After all, now I shall be able to manage the Fowl empire as I see fit. The only cloud in our silver lining is that most of the Fowl fortune is now gone," he continued. A solitary tear coursed down his cheek, and he angrily wiped it away. "I should think I will have no problem rectifying that, though," Artemis said, as his voice broke.

"Artemis, I want you to know that I'll always be here for you," Butler said softly. He put his hand on Artemis's shoulder.

Artemis swivelled his chair and turned to regard Butler, perhaps to deliver another epithet or vituperation. But as his eyes held Butler's, his indifferent veneer melted away, and his defences, so carefully orchestrated, were breached one by one. His glorious blue eyes were open and full, and there was not a hint of scheming or malevolence in those eyes. And for a moment, just a moment, Butler saw the child Artemis was- no, could have been.

"Why did he have to go?" Artemis's voice quavered.

And then Artemis was clinging on to Butler tightly and sobbing. Butler patted Artemis on the head gently, as his own tears flowed down his weathered face.

Genii felt pain too.