So... hi.

I'm not dead, or disappeared again, I swear. I've just had a lot going on, and simultaneously been trying to catch up my AO3 account to my FF one, which is hard to do while posting at the same time, and since I've had so little time to write, updating here kind of fell on the back burner. Sorry.

While I can't promise I won't get busy again, I can say I'm working on stuff, so I shouldn't fall completely off the face of the Earth. Doing my best here, I swear. (And yes, I'm as disappointed at myself as the rest of you with the fact that I managed to disappear just when we were starting to get a little traffic back. My bad.)

As for this story in particular, I have no excuse for why it took so long. I have the first few chapters in storage, and then I started working on bigger things (UD, LBNF, etc) and I honestly just kind of fell out of love with writing it. But, I'm going to try to pick it up again, so we'll see where it goes! Sorry for the long wait, but here it is, so enjoy!

1.

Pain was the first thing he felt when he woke up.

Artemis Fowl Junior opened his eyes and groaned a little. The pain had dimmed - he never felt it as much now as he had in the beginning - but it was still there. The fire had been doused, but it wasn't out.

It had been a little over two weeks since he had discovered the People and kidnapped one by the name of Holly Short to bring her here to use as a trade for his father, who, at the time, had been in the People's grasp. He had tortured her for information, only to find out she didn't have any and it had been for nothing. When she'd eventually cracked, so had he at the sight, and they ended up having a small love tryst that hadn't ended a well as he'd hoped.

In fact, if he was right, it had ended in near disaster. When the time for the trade had come, it happened, and in the beginning it went smoothly. But Artemis had made it a point to pull Holly aside and kiss her goodbye, which he was almost certain had ended up in somebody being ticked off and shooting him. He still wasn't sure who'd shot him or why they'd waited so long to do it, but somebody had, and they didn't miss.

Whoever had fired the blaster had spot-on aim. The huge, hot blast it released had crashed hard into his chest, penetrating through his clothes and skin and searing into his heart. It had left a gaping hole, and Artemis had quickly started to die. He would have, if it hadn't been for Holly. She had run over and started pumping the rest of the magic from her system, which he assumed she'd probably that been saving, into the hole in his chest. She had been pulled off, but it was the little bit of magic she had managed to get into him that had saved his life.

Now she was gone - they all were. He was recuperating as he normally would have to, like a mundane, just letting time and rest seal up the hole in his chest. The two weeks had done him good - his body had healed, quite a bit, and though he still had bandages taped around his chest, he could almost sit up comfortably and he didn't get dizzy or feel thunderbolts of pain anymore when he moved. It was just the general area that was painful, and he avoided moving too much anyway, afraid he might rip it open again or something similar.

Wincing, he slowly pushed himself up into a half-sitting position, propped against his pillows. A soft, half-moan escaped him as he sat up, but he ignored the pain. He could hear footsteps coming up the hallway, and he didn't want to be lying down when they got here, didn't want to have to ask for help to sit up. He wanted to be already up.

The door opened a few seconds later to reveal his bodyguard standing in the doorway, a tray balanced on one hand. He slipped in and shut the door, smiling down at his charge. Artemis smiled weakly back as he placed the tray on his lap, then pulled up a chair beside him. "Do you feel any better?" rumbled the giant.

"Plenty," Artemis lied. He felt guilty for not telling the truth, but he hated his vulnerability and he was determined to show it as little as possible. Besides, it wasn't strictly a complete lie - he did feel better than he had not-so-long ago, and Butler hadn't specified exactly how much better he felt from one day, or whether it was a mental or physical healing he was asking of. "Maybe I'll be completely well again someday soon."

"Soon," Butler agreed, "But still not soon enough. Just eat and get some rest, Artemis. Your parents will be back any day now, and I'm sure the better you're feeling, the happier they'll be."

He was referring to the fact that, earlier in the week, his parents had left together on one of his father's so called "business trips". He had assured his son it had nothing to do with the People, and both him and his wife that it was completely legal. Artemis wasn't really sure if he believed him now, but he supposed he'd find out on their return.

Although the Fowls weren't eager to leave their injured son behind, they knew better than to believe that he could go with them, or that he would want to even if he could. However, Artemis Senior had jumped right back into business on his return, and he was determined that this business venture could not wait. So, after a heated debate and getting consent from his eldest son, he agreed to leave him behind, on the condition that Butler and Juliet both stay with him instead of splitting for one to stay and one to travel with them. Seeing as how their venture was supposed to be completely legal, Artemis Senior didn't see it fit to take him with them, and he doubted they would be needed, so he ordered them both to stay and see to it that Artemis was properly taken care of and healing well. Reluctantly, the siblings had agreed, and now here they all were.

Artemis sighed, but nodded. "Yes, I'm sure you're right. Thank you for bringing me my food, Butler."

"Of course, sir." The bodyguard forced a smile and patted the sixteen year old's hand. "Just doing my job." He stood up. "Ring when you need me, if you do before I return," he said, and then left.

The boy frowned and inhaled deeply, looking down at his food. It smelled appetizing, certainly, and he knew Butler was a renowned cook, but he wasn't sure he wanted to eat. He started picking away a little at the sandwich on the side of the plate, but he couldn't make himself eat much. Eventually he set the tray to the side and laid back down to go back to sleep. He would need the rest.