I just couldn't leave Fairy Roses alone! It's been in my head for months, and I've had this fic sitting in my folder for months, so I gave up and posted it. It's a bit rough here and there, maybe inaccuarate, but at this point I don't care. Please read Fairy Roses by crowprincess14 before reading, and for the love of god write alexmis fics.


It had been nearly six months since Alex had kneeled at Artemis' grave. Six whole months. And with every day, Alex missed him even more. Sure, they had broken ties long before his demise, but Alex missed the thought of him. Knowing that he was out there, keeping Alex in his own thoughts. He missed looking forward to the end of each week, wondering whether he'd get a hydrangea or an orchid. Knowing Artemis was gone forever, six feet below, and under strange circumstance. It took a few more year's off of Alex's life.

He was lying in his bed, a lazy Sunday morning. Months before he'd get up bright and early and await the delivery. Now he slept in- like any normal teenager would. He was playing with his phone, not really doing anything, just trying to keep himself distracted. His thoughts had grown heavier, and any moment away from being stuck in the past was a moment of bliss. Alex hadn't been a cheerful teenager at the best of times, but in recent months, he'd only gotten worse.

Having Artemis being taken from him... it was unexpected, unexplained, and unfathomably cruel. It was like Ian, hell, like Jack all over again. He was awaiting the day when Sabina or her parents would be stripped from him as well. It wouldn't surprise him.

"Alex?"

Speak of the devil. Sabina peaked through the open doorway. She usually didn't disturb him when he was in his own room, but she thought this might be an exception.

"Hmm?" he muttered, glancing away from his phone.

"I think you ought to come see this." she muttered back. Sabina's expression was a little doubtful, a little cautious. Maybe a little hopeful.

Alex scrunched his brow. "What is it?"

"Just- come see." Without another word, Sabina had turned and left down the stairs.

Alex swung his legs out from under the blankets. His phone was tossed aside, and he padded his bare feet out after her. Hopefully, it wasn't any bad news. He didn't think so, but the back of his mind always told him to expect the worst.

So he came down the stairs, right into the kitchen, a buzz of life. Their dog, Champ, came to greet him, and he scratched his ear with a lazy smile. Mrs. Pleasure, or Liz, he was told to call her, was at the stove over a sizzling pan. Mr. Pleasure was at the table by the sliding glass doors, drinking coffee and reading the news as usual.

Sabina sat next to her father. "On the porch," she mouthed quietly.

"What was that, dear?" her dad asked, eyes still glued to his paper.

"I called for Champ. Here, boy!" she smoothed over, calling the lab.

Without any further prompting, Alex made his way through the hall, and to the front door.

He swung the door open and stopped, staring straight down.

A green box lay across the welcome mat. Rectangular, with the florist's logo on the side. The box. The Sunday box.

Alex froze. His brow furrowed; his immediate thoughts were Who the hell sent this and why? Because surely, the box couldn't be from the previous gifter. Who the hell would play such a cruel joke against him? Half of him wanted to ignore the box altogether and go back to sleep.

He heard clicking claws behind him and then a shout, "Close the door, dear, you'll let the dog out!" Mrs. Pleasure, from down the hall.

So he stepped out onto the narrow porch, keeping the door closed enough to keep Champ away, and grabbed the box. It was a lot lighter than he remembered, but that was a long time ago. He scooted past the dog and clicked the door shut, making his way back to the kitchen.

He cradled the box carefully, and upon sitting at the table and setting it down, all eyes were on him.

"Flowers? But I thought..." Mrs. Pleasure didn't finish the words; she didn't want to, or maybe she couldn't.

Alex lifted the box's lid away. It was flower, singular. A single orange rose occupied the box. He could smell its perfume, sweet and light.

And underneath the blossom, an unmarked envelope. He lifted the rose, presenting it to the family.

"Oh, that's lovely, dear. Very lovely." Mrs. Pleasure again, always the one to bring warm words. Mr. Pleasure smiled, almost sadly, and took another swig of his coffee. Sabina looked just as curious as Alex felt.

"I'll fix a vase." Already, Mrs. Pleasure was rummaging through cabinets. In a moment, a thin glass vase was presented to Alex, water and all. He placed the rose carefully, and stood, grabbing the vase and box alike.

"I want it upstairs, if that's alright."

Everyone in the house knew of Artemis. And while they were curious, no one dared ask about him; about the strange orange rose.

"Of course, dear."

And Alex was up the stairs, setting his rose on the bedside table. What he'd said was true, and he also didn't want anyone to notice the tears pricking his eyes. He'd wanted to read the letter in private as well, and grabbing it from the box, he tore it open.

A single, neatly folded paper, and something else. Plane tickets? What ever for? Alex was getting more confused by the minute. So he unfolded the sheet, and read.

A solitary line, written in neat, flowing handwriting. Alex recognised it at once. It read:

Come and visit me once more?

And that was all. He examined the plane tickets once more. A trip, there and back, to Dublin, Ireland. Scheduled for tomorrow.

Again, his thoughts went to What the hell kind of bastard is this? It had to be a trick. But for the most part, his feelings were indescribable. No doubt, that was Artemis' work. It reeked of him. Oh, he couldn't just send and e-mail or drop a line, he had to go and do this. He had to go and break Alex's heart another time. He shook his head and grasped the letter and tickets tightly, glaring at his orange rose.

There was no way it could ever be possible. But, he supposed, there was only one way to find out. When Alex had broken contact with him so long ago, it seemed, he'd never gotten an e-mail address; a phone number; an address.

But these tickets... Well, he couldn't just let them go to waste, could he? And if it was a trap, it put him in the perfect position to destroy his tormentors.

It was settled. He'd have to skip school tomorrow.

Alex was sitting in the leather back seat of a nice car; a Bentley, worming its way through Dublin. The man driving was Butler, Artemis' massive bodyguard. When Alex had gotten off the plane that evening, he'd been awaiting Alex like a chauffeur. Recognising the man, Alex left with him. He'd asked a dozen questions since, but Butler just smiled and shook his head. The big silent type, he supposed.

The Pleasures had agreed to let him go of course; the mother, giddy, the father, smiling but a little pessimistic, and Sabina, hoping with all her heart that the trip might lead to something good. The whole trip, hell, from the moment he'd seen the florist's box, his heart rate had been erratic. He had hardly slept the night before; his nerves kept him awake.

He gripped his seat belt in a tight fist. He was nervous to say the least. What if this was something else entirely? Surely, one couldn't return from the dead. Surely. But this was Artemis he was talking about... There were a lot of loose ends about his demise in general. Perhaps it had all been fabricated. It stung Alex that even if that was the case, Artemis had dropped contact completely. But Artemis would have a proper explanation. Hopefully.

In his humble opinion, the car ride was taking far too long. But before he knew it, they were pulling through an ornate iron gate, up a gravel drive. The manor came into view, grand and welcoming. Alex had never actually been there before, save for his previous visit. It was just as he remembered. A little less gloomy perhaps, but so were his thoughts.

When they parked, Alex was out of the car in an instant, unable to remain still. Butler still had that grin about him, like a parent seeing an excited child on Christmas Eve. When he retrieved Alex's luggage (the return ticket was for three days later), he led the way up Fowl Manor's stone steps. Alex followed at his heel like a puppy. He wanted to ask another question, but he knew it would be ignored. Besides, he was so close already.

And the great doors swung open, and Alex was being led through a hallway. His eyes searched every corner, every nook and cranny. His ears craned for any give away sound. All he could really hear was his own shaky breaths and hammering heart.

And then through an archway, into a living area. A set of couches, a fireplace, a bright window. A family gathered around the coffee table.

Everyone stopped in their chatting. Alex recognised Artemis' parents, his younger brothers, the young lady Juliet.

No one else really mattered then, because there he was. Artemis was sitting at a couch next to his baby brothers, not a few paces away, and very much alive. His bright blue eyes (both blue now, he noted) were wide, staring, as Alex's own were. His dark hair was swept back as it always had been. He was real.

After a heavy pause, everything broke. Artemis was up and walking, and Alex felt himself propelled forward without even meaning to.

And Alex's face was buried in Artemis' neck, breathing him in. One arm was tight around his waist, the other at the back of his head. Artemis' own arms were slung around his chest, clutching the fabric of the back of his shirt. They stayed like that for a long time.

"You've gotten taller." Artemis whispered.

Alex breathed a small laugh past his tears.