EDIT: Format was ruined when I posted it here. I think I fixed it.

Multichapter fic set after The Time Paradox, in place of The Atlantis Complex.

Summary: Butler isn't well, and Artemis is growing sicker by the day.

Word count: 4800

Warnings: This is not a sexual or romantic or NSFW fic (yet). However, it's not particularly…nice. The only warning I can give without spoiling, is that it's kind of disgusting at some points.

Things weren't right in Fowl Manor.

It wasn't very obvious. In fact, it was incredibly subtle. To the point that, unless you were Artemis Fowl the Second, you had no idea.

"Be good, Arty. For me?"

His mother kissed his forehead, and he gave a tired smile. He'd been up all night again; thinking, pacing.

(Worrying. Which was very unlike Artemis.)

Angeline gave him a worried look, but didn't comment on the bags under his eyes, or how big they had gotten. Beckett and Myles passed him, holding their luggage; Beckett hummed one of his favorite nursery rhymes, and Myles glared at Artemis—much to the older brother's grief—holding Professor Primate tightly to his chest.

I need to spend more time with my brothers, thought Artemis. They act like they only barely like him. Well, Myles acts like that; Beckett, admittedly, was happy most of the time.

His father stepped out of the house after the rest of the family; Juliet was already holding the door open for the rest of the Fowls, grinning brightly at the toddlers and helping Angeline with her bags, as she occasionally glanced back at Artemis. Timmy, as Artemis had begun to refer to him as well, clapped a hand down on his oldest son.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with?"

Artemis straightened himself out a bit more, and gave a more professional, distant smile.

"I'm fine, Father. I have work to do."

"Dad, Arty. I'm your dad. And work can wait, I know it's nothing too impending."

Another smile, though a bit thinner. "I know. But I'll be fine here. I'll go on the next trip, I promise."

That was good enough for the older man, and he gave his son another clap on the shoulder, before going back to the others.

They waved goodbye, Juliet chewing gum to the tune of some older boy band (she'd been on an, as she referred to it, "oldies kick", recently), and then they got in the car, driving away.

A large mountain of a man emerged from the house behind Artemis, standing at his charge's side. Artemis tensed, but not out of fear.

He was worried about his manservant, who had been acting very strange lately. And he hoped to learn what was wrong in the six days he had the mansion to himself.

Day 1

"Butler, I'll just be on the patio."

His bodyguard stared at him.

The atmosphere of the house was chilled, awkward. Artemis felt wary, but wasn't really sure why. He took another step towards the patio. Butler didn't take his own step forward, so Artemis slowly turned away and left.

Outside, he let out a very big breath of air. This was…maddening. Absolutely frustrating. He wasn't even sure what it was that Butler was doing wrong; he'd always been quiet.

But it was just…it was wrong. His motions were too stiff. His words too quiet.

Everything was just so…impersonal.

Artemis leaned against the rail, taking a few more breaths. The air was cold; not enough that he'd have to go inside, but he could see his breath.

"You should get back inside, Master Fowl."

Artemis jumped about three feet into the air. He hadn't even heard the man come outside, and that was, for Butler's size, nearly impossible. He whirled around, barely keeping his face to a poker point. Butler looked down at him with a blank face, and Artemis walked inside, going around him. Yes, maybe he should stay inside for now.

"What do you want us to do, Artemis?"

He was glad Foaly couldn't see him right now. He ran a hand through his hair, face blotching red. He felt a bit too cold, and his arms ached, but that might just be the long restless days as of late.

"I want you to do vital readings on Butler without him knowing."

"…why?"

"That's not important. I'm concerned about something, is all."

Foaly groaned over the call. "Did you do something to him, Artemis?"

"Absolutely not!" Artemis snapped, and for a second, both of them sat in stunned silence. "…I apologize. It's not something I've done. Butler has just grown increasingly strange lately. Very…distant. Mechanic. I'm…worried."

Artemis Fowl, worried. That was strange.

Foaly was silent for a few more minutes, typing something on the computer, before he spoke again. "…well, the soonest I could send Holly up to see you would probably be in 4 days. She says she's a bit too busy until then, and even then she could only be around for about three hours."

"That's fine," Artemis said. "Three hours is perfectly fine. I'll see her then."

The call ended, and he laid back on the bed, rubbing his eyes. This was taking a lot out of him. Without meaning to, the thoughts passing by his head lulled him to a much needed sleep.

Day 2

"Well, am I forgiven?"

Butler sighed. Artemis felt a slight anxiety in his stomach, one he didn't think possible after such a victory. He had won. The fairy gold—half of it, anyway—was his. Why did his manservants opinion mean so much right now? But he didn't have to think on the reaction long, as Butler looked back up.

"Yes, Artemis. All is forgiven."

Artemis eyes open, and birds chirp quietly beside his window. Morning dew drips down from the trees, and the precipitation clouds his view of the outside. Sitting up, he closes his dead laptop, putting it on the table as he begins to undress for a shower.

He felt better rested then he had in a while. Holly would be coming, and he knew that if Butler really was acting strange, she would help him figure it out. He could relax a bit.

Butler knocked on the door. Artemis put his pants in the clothes bin. "Just a minute."

He pulled a robe on, starting the water to run while he opened the door to greet Butler. "Good morning."

Butler's eyes were unreadable, and he was slow to speak, his voice low and quiet. "…breakfast is ready."

Artemis shifted uncomfortably. He suddenly felt very, very exposed. "Thank you, old friend. I'll be out in an hour."

As Butler left, Artemis unintentionally shuddered. He hoped the days passed quickly enough, and Holly got there soon.

Artemis descended the stairs quickly. The shower had felt nice, but towards the end, he got incredibly weak. He had to leave the bathroom very suddenly, his breathing a little too shallow, and the cold air had helped him a bit, until his stomach flopped, and he had to sit down. Maybe the ache in his arms and legs wasn't a sleeping problem…

(He hoped food would help. Sometimes, he just forgot to eat, or didn't eat enough. Butler was particularly keen to harp on that. Artemis was already edging on underweight.)

When he rounded the corner to the dining room, the smell of food hit him. His stomach churned slightly in protest, and he frowned.

A large pot on the table was filled about halfway with steaming, golden brown porridge, sugar, cinnamon, and milk in separate bowls in front of it. Next to it, last night's fresh bread was cut into slices, one piece buttered on a plate for Artemis already. On the other side of the pot, a large slab of beef had been cooked to just above rare, juices gathering at the bottom of the pan it sat on.

It looked delicious, but it also looked…filling. The bread would probably be okay, but the meat and the oatmeal would only upset his stomach.

"Sit down, Artemis."

He turned to look at Butler, who was holding a cup of tea out for Artemis. The boy thanked him as he took it, but he didn't sit like his manservant insisted. "Actually, Butler, I'm not feeling all that well. I'm going to take the toast and head to bed."

The man stared at him, like last night. It was a tense minute, before, "I think you should sit and eat."

Artemis did a double take, setting the glass on the table. The tone in his friends' voice did not sound open to discussion; which was…alarming. "I—"

"Sit."

Butler began to step closer, and Artemis eyes unconsciously widened.

The man was a tower compared to him, and as he got closer, the more menacing he became, until he was just a mountain mere inches in front of him. The mountain began to bend, reaching forward and grabbing the chair behind Artemis, pulling it out just as the boy fell back onto the seat.

Artemis stayed perfectly still as Butler pushed him to the table and began serving him. The steam from the oatmeal hit his face, and he wordlessly reached forward, blowing on the food as he put it to his lips.

(It was good. Of course it was. But it was rich, filling, just as Artemis thought it would be. His stomach ached.)

It took him about 45 minutes to finish the food Butler had set in front of him. He had grown full quickly, and the food went from tasting perfect to absolutely nauseating, but every time he went to get up, Butler put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed to an uncomfortable degree. As time went on, each bite became harder to put to his mouth; he found himself closing his eyes because the sight of it made him want to heave. Butler had begun gently rubbing his back, and his teeth chattered.

When he finally put the last spoonful to his lips, his hands were lightly trembling. Butler let go of him, and he pushed himself away from the table immediately, his body urging him to get up, get up now. The oatmeal had grown cold long ago, yet the sweat was still there, running down his face, clinging to his dress shirt. His jaw ached, and he felt saliva accumulate and drip out of his mouth.

Butler stared at him.

"I…I think I need to—"

His whole body jerked as his stomach twisted into itself. He tried to put his hand over his mouth, but instead he just fell forward, arms outstretched in an effort not to fall on his face, as the food and stomach acid rushed out of his mouth.

Somehow, he found himself clinging to a bucket he didn't notice was there, holding on to the sides as if for dear life. He heaved and heaved until there was nothing left.

His stomach settled, then. But everything else rocked with waves of pain and shivers. Cold. He was incredibly cold. He felt himself squeezed, and suddenly he realized he'd been picked up; a blanket was wrapped around him. Butler was taking him back to his bedroom. He closed his eyes, not quite unconscious, but too sick to think straight.

Before he realized they were out of the kitchen, he was deposited on what he believed to be his bed, and he curled into himself.

"Good night, Master Fowl."

Day 3

…the troll throws it's head back, tusk glistening with Butler's blood. Artemis' heart stops, and he feels everything run cold. He can't be dead. He can't be dead. He can't—

"Artemis."

The boy stirred, and his stomach seemed to sharply impale itself. He groaned, curling closer to his legs.

"Artemis. Your mother is calling."

Artemis's eyes fluttered, and he held his head up. His neck hurt, the muscles weak. Everything seemed to feel that way. He barely made out the Skype call icon on his laptop—wasn't his laptop off? It had died because he'd forgotten to charge it; had he eventually done so in his fever?—and he sat up, shivering. He pulled the blanket closer, and clicked accept.

"Hello, Arty!"

Even in his sickness, Artemis had the energy to pretend. "Hello, mother. How's the vacation?"

"Oh, it's wonderful, we're having so much fu…Artemis, are you okay?"

Angeline flipped immediately from cheerful to concerned, and Artemis gave a weak laugh. "I'm fine. I think I picked up a bug from the boys."

His mother clicked her tongue in worry. "Should we come home sooner?"

"No, mother, I'm okay. It's just a small virus, is all. I should be fine in a few days."

"Are you sure? We wouldn't mind coming back."

"I'm sure." Angeline looked unconvinced, and Artemis gave another laugh. "I swear, I'm fine. Get some more fresh air in my place. I'll get some rest."

Angeline finally let up, and they said their goodbyes. Artemis closed the laptop, putting it to the side as he feel back onto the bed, barely able to hold himself up.

Butler took the computer, and put it on a table. "I think you should take a shower."

Artemis frowned, but couldn't get his eyes to open. "A…shower? 'm fine, Butler. I just…need some rest."

"I think it would help."

"I don't…think it would. I took a shower yesterday. And I can't…I can't get up, anyway."

Butler took a step closer. Artemis's eyes snapped open as the manservant picked him up. "I know. I'll help."

Alarmed—but also wary of his perception in his feverous state—Artemis looked around, confused. It was not a state of mind he was in often, but he didn't really understand what his bodyguard was doing, nor did he have the ability to try and follow long trains of thought about his actions.

Once in the bathroom, he was put down on his feet, against the rail. He grabbed onto it for support, shaking like a leaf, and Butler began to unbutton his sleepwear.

"…what are you doing?"

"You need to stay clean. Or you'll get sicker."

(Artemis drew more question marks as he tried to understand the reasoning. Something in the back of his mind, unaffected by his sickness, screamed that this was bad, this didn't make any sense, that Butler's acting completely off.)

Before he knew it, he had already been stripped down completely. He shivered and held onto himself, still incredibly cold. Butler guided him to the shower; he had taken off his suit jacket, and his dress shirt had the sleeves rolled up. The water started up, and Artemis flinched against it. Hot. It was too hot.

"Sit."

Butler helped him sit in the tub, and he tried to pull away from the water. Pulling him back, Butler grabbed the wash rag.

"It's too hot. It hurts."

"It needs to be hot enough to rub the dirt off."

"It's too hot, Butler. I need to—" He tried to reach forward and change the water setting, and Butler forced his arm down, making Artemis winced.

"I think it needs to be hotter."

"It doesn't. Butler. Please. It's too hot. Please."

Butler turned the water's heat setting up higher, and Artemis winced again, trying to put his hands up and deflect the stream. "I can't—"

The man lathered the rag with soap, and began to scrub roughly all over Artemis. The boy attempted to flail, which was about all he could do even at his best, and Butler ignored him. His skin was already pink from the hot water, and it became an angry red with the harsh touch of the cloth. He gritted his teeth and tried to pull away, but only made himself weaker, until eventually he just laid back in the tub and groaned while the man scrubbed him down.

After about an hour, the water turned off. He felt himself picked up again; Butler put a robe on him, before carrying him to bed.

Butler put a clean bucket next to Artemis. The boy rolled onto his side, grabbed it, and heaved stomach acid.

"Can I…can I be alone for a little while, Butler?"

"No. I'm staying in here."

"…alright."

He fell back, and closed his eyes, trying not to whimper.

Day 4

"Fairies aren't real, Artemis."

"I'm not asking for your approval. I'm onto something, Butler."

The manservant's eyes softened, and Artemis saw pity in there. Anger rose into his chest, before dying, turning into something else, and he wasn't sure what.

"Artemis…"

"I'm fine, Butler. I'm fine. Quit looking at me like that." His throat tightened and he didn't know why. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

"I know you are."

Artemis opened his eyes, and the lack of sharp pain in his abdomen was a very pleasant surprise.

He sat up, yawning, and immediately noticed the large form sleeping beside him. Butler was completely out; something very, very strange for the trained bodyguard. On the stand, a large cup of tea was made; no doubt for when Artemis woke up. He reached forward for it, and stopped, his head rushing. A very nauseating thought entered his mind, and he closed his eyes, grimacing.

He bent forward to grab the cup again, and very carefully picked it up as he got off the bed. Watching Butlers' sleeping form the whole time, he left the room quickly, heart racing.

He took a drop of the tea from his room, and put it on a slide, entering it into the computer. The complete makeup of the drop was sent to Foaly, who was once again on voice call with him.

"What am I looking for, Artemis?"

"I just want to check something. Is this liquid a drug, or is it a poison?"

Foaly was silent for a second as he looked over the results. "…it's a low grade poison. Large dose of it, though. Nothing fatal, thankfully, but it isn't pleasant either. Who gave you this?"

"No one. Thank you, Foaly."

"Wait, Artemis, what's going on—" click. Artemis hated hanging up on people he liked, but he couldn't answer questions about this right now. His stomach swirled with discontent, and he held it. It wouldn't be completely out of his system for a week or two, which means all he had to do for now was wonder how long Butler had been feeding it too him. He'd been feeling feverish off and on for a week previous to this. He never noticed a difference in taste.

Artemis sighed, feeling about as hopeless as a Fowl could. He couldn't tell Foaly about this; he didn't want to tell Holly about it, either, but he was going to have to. Maybe she could put the business on hold and come here sooner—

"Artemis."

D'Arvit.

His whole body tensed without real control. He turned to his bodyguard, at the foot of his lab. At the only exit.

"…yes, old friend?"

"You need to be in bed."

Butler took a step forward, and Artemis took a step back. "I…I feel better, Butler. I'm fine. I was just doing some tests—"

"Did you finish the tea I made you? It'll help you feel better."

Artemis cleared his throat, and in the back of his head, he sobbed. "No, I…didn't. I'll just…go back to bed, then…"

Butler was big, but he was also fast. The only advantage Artemis may have had was if the man was slow, and he never had been. Nonetheless, Artemis tried to dart around Butler, into the rest of the mansion, and was immediately caught, the man's hold on his wrist a painful vice grip. He cried out, feeling his bones ache under the pressure.

"Come," Butler grunted, and pulled the boy out of the room. They quickly walked through the halls, and into the kitchen again; the food from the other day sat there, completely untouched. In the two days since, it had spoiled; the rare meat now rancid and emitting a putrid smell. Flies, uncommon in the Fowl manor, had landed in the porridge, which had some sort of slimy film over it.

Butler forced Artemis to sit at the table, and the boys stomach twisted as he stared at the filth in front of him. "You need to eat more, Artemis. You're under weight. You need to finish your meal."

Artemis wanted to cry.

Grabbing the boy's jaw, he forced Artemis's mouth open, Butler's hands stronger then Artemis. He picked up a bowl, scooping the porridge into it, and put it to the boy's mouth.

Artemis's hands immediately went up, his legs kicking in all directions as he tried to pushed Butler away. The oatmeal tasted like slime felt, and it slid down his throat as his eyes leaked tears he didn't know he had. He was gagging continuously, and the food ran off the corners of his mouth and onto his chest. When the bowl was drained, Butler pulled it away, still holding Artemis's mouth. The boy was sobbing; something he didn't know he knew how to do.

"Meat, too. You need the iron."

Artemis let out weeps in response, closing his eyes tightly. The smell of the meat as it was raised to his lips was almost enough to make him pass out. He wished it had. Butler shoved the pieces in his mouth and he felt the porridge that just went in trying to come back up again. The taste was absolutely disgusting; sour and raw, the way only rancid food could. He gagged again, but Butler forced his mouth closed, and he chewed just enough to swallow, only for his stomach to jerk in time with his body. Butler let go of him and he threw up all over the table as he tried to get up. He fell to his knees, his body weak, and the sobbing having grown to a loud and violent degree.

Butler picked him up then, carrying him to his bathroom calmly, leaving the table as is. Artemis couldn't stop crying, and the feeling was absolutely foreign to him, and he felt a strange form of violation for having had it dragged out of him like this.

When they got there, the bath was already drawn, and the water had already grown lukewarm. Butler stripped the sticky clothes from Artemis, whose sobs had died down just a touch, and dumped him in the bathtub, scrubbing him down again as he had in the shower.

"Stay home?"

Artemis nodded, face completely blank.

Holly stared at him, brow furrowed. "Are you sure? Something seems off."

"I'm fine, Holly. I'm just very sick. That was why Butler seemed off to me; I'm just not feeling my best."

"…I don't believe you."

"Holly, please. Stay home. I need to get some rest."

The elf sighed on the camera. "Fine. But I'm going to figure out what's wrong eventually." This time, one of his friends hung up on him.

He stared at the screen, and Butler put a hand on his shoulder.

"We don't need them," he said. Artemis continued to stare at the screen until Butler took it away, and laid the boy down.

Day 5

"I trust you, Artemis."

The sensation of being carried was one Artemis had grown used to the past few days. He didn't want to open his eyes, but he knew he'd have to. His stomach was in a constant cramping state; Butler had forced another three cups of tea down his throat when he was too weak to move away.

When he finally looked out, he recognized the sight of the basement staircase. Fowl Manor had a catacomb of jail cells underneath the surface, winding down and out, some enemies of his father's fathers having been left to rot. He hated this place. He always had.

"Butler…" Artemis grasped his stomach, kneading the flesh. It hurt so much, and the anxiety building in it just added to the pain. "Butler, please…"

Different cells passed him by, and he refused to look in them, glancing up at his bodyguard, who stared straight ahead. "I know a place where you'll be safe, Artemis. I have to put you there. You're not safe anywhere else."

Artemis didn't respond. His stomach hurt so, so much.

Holding the boy with one hand, the manservant opened the final cell of the wing they were in, and in the center—a single light hanging above it—was a big, iron chest. Artemis left out a low breath, and closed his eyes. He knew what Butler intended to do.

"Just stay here, Artemis. Until it's safe enough to move you." Butler knelt down, opening the chest with one hand, and folding Artemis into it with the other. The boy thought about fighting him, trying to force his way out of this tiny, cramped hole, but Butler was three times his size, and could easily decide to kill him if he wanted to.

…kill him. This was the first time Artemis was truly scared of Domovoi. He wanted to weep.

"I'll be back for you," Butler murmured, as he closed the lid. "I promise."

Artemis listened to Butler's footsteps as they left the chest, growing softer until he could only hear the echoes.

And then he screamed.

It was loud, and painful. Artemis had never really screamed in his life, and this was…primal. Terrified. He screamed and he screamed until his throat ran ragged and then he coughed until he puked.

Day 6

Artemis's legs have long since cramped up. Now they're just numb. He tries to move his foot but he can't. A fever rises in his system, and he runs in and out of consciousness. In his mind, Juliet is holding him down. "What happened to the great and powerful Artemis Fowl? Is he too chicken shit to get out of a cage?"

Day 7

He can hear rats. Maybe. He starts screaming again but nothing comes out. He manages to throw up again. He can hear his father laughing. And then he's crying. Artemis always was a failure.

Day 8

His nose started bleeding. And then it stopped. The chest has already begun to smell foul. Maybe he'll die here.

He doesn't know if another day or another hour has passed, or if he ever really existed.

He can't breathe he can't breathe he can't breathe he can't breathe he can't

Something tells him to calm down and he does. He can breathe again but he doesn't want to.

Above him, the chest clicks.

Butler pulls Artemis out 4 days later. Artemis is gasping and crying but he makes no sound. Tilting a large cup of water to his lips, Butler holds him close, and it's the first bout of compassion he's seen from the man in weeks. He sobs and sobs, clinging to the man's neck, and he's picked up; Butler takes him upstairs, out of the catacomb, and into the main bathroom. He scrubs the boy down again in the shower, but Artemis refuses to let go of him. Eventually, the man manages to pull him into one of his better suits.

"We're leaving."

Artemis can't walk. Butler continues to carry him. They pass the dining room, and it's spotless. He can hear Angeline and the boys upstairs. They're laughing.

"They don't know where we're going. They can't know."

Butler lays the boy down in one of their many cars, as well as one luggage bag, before getting into the front door. Artemis isn't crying anymore, but he can't do much of anything, really. Butler drives for a very long time, and occasionally he pulls over and helps Artemis bend his knees and try to use his legs, which had bruised and swelled in the box. Eventually, Artemis can stand, albeit briefly. Butler's hands are soft and warm, and Artemis holds on to them for dear life. He doesn't want to be in the dark, not ever again, and he shakes as he thinks about it.

"It'll be okay. I'm taking us some place they'll never find us."

Artemis wants to know who they're running from, but the small part of him that has the energy to be logical, knows that no one's hunting them. He doesn't think about that now. He can't afford to fear Butler anymore.

They pull over.

"Go to sleep, Artemis. When you wake up, we'll be safe."

Butler pulls a small needle out, and slips it into Artemis's thigh. The boy tenses, and then relaxes. Sleep does sound nice.

"Artemis? Oh, he's gone to see Minerva. Yes, I know, I was surprised too. Butler stayed home, although he eventually went to go and make sure everything was alright. Although, usually, at least Juliet accompanies Artemis on the plane ride there. Why?"

Holly's nails were digging so deep into her fists she thought she'd draw blood.

"Oh, just curious. Thank you, Mrs. Fowl."

"No problem, darling. If you go to see him, tell him to get home soon! He's always out somewhere, that boy. Thinks he's invincible, just like his father."

END