February 17, 2013

A/N: Here we will see a lot of "First Class" and "Fourth Class", but I researched a bit about Irish Education and saw that's how they refer grades as. For example, First Class is basically First Grade and Fourth Class is Fourth Grade and so on. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.

Age Reminders: Artemis - 25 years old, Chris - 17 years old, Butler - somewhere between his fifties, Beckett and Myles - 13

Butterflies of God

By lumidai

"I will tell you stories every day."

A few days before, the Matron received a letter. That was rare, since the orphanage barely received letters like this. Least to say she was surprised, especially when the card started off with "We will help you with your warm home!"

More surprised was the elderly woman when the letter's referrer called herself Angeline Fowl. "Fowl, Fowl, why does that name sound familiar?"

Then realization struck. She almost lost her breath. The Matron stood, and went searching for him, for the oldest "son" she had here.

Said son was in the kitchen, having a late night snack since he has been suffering insomnia for the last two weeks. The day was coming so quickly. For once in his life, he dreaded that day.

He was caught chowing down on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when the Matron came in, fanning herself.

Chris stood and held the woman by her shoulders, leading her to a chair to sit down. "Mom, what's going on? Are you okay?" he gave her a worried look. Though the Matron wasn't his biological mother, the woman had been there for him his whole life and treated him like a real son. He in return, treated her like a real mother.

Once the Matron caught her breath, she read the letter aloud to him. Chris, just as she had, took a long time to process this.

"The Fowls?" he blinks, and the Matron nods.

Once he realized, his face broke into a large smile. "That's great! You can finally get so much more help, and better. You deserve this mom."

The woman looks up to gaze at Chris. Her wrinkly face stretched as she smiles, her kind eyes glittering. "The help you've given me over the years has been wonderful too, son, don't forget. You can finally stop worrying."

-oOo-

Chris had watched as the car rolled up, observed as their helpers came out, and left before they came in and saw him.

He hadn't noticed they saw him playing with the children and he didn't realize it was Artemis Fowl II watching him bandage Amelia's arm. He had noticed that someone had been watching but he just never saw who.

When they came up to introduce themselves, he had hoped he would mix in the background like always and not have to do it, but the Matron had encouraged him. Since his existence was made known, he reluctantly introduced himself, and thanked them in the end.

Their questioning looks made him feel uncomfortable, and he could just feel Artemis eyeing him. He wanted to run away, but he lingered since the Matron was about to burst into tears. They were tears of joy, but he had to be there anyways.

After they left, Chris patiently answered all the children's questions, since they noticed the strangers that hadn't come to adopt them.

Their questions didn't annoy him. He was very patient, he was used to waiting.

The next day, Chris tried to avoid them by doing his chores. His bad luck, Artemis Fowl found him, watched him, spoke to him. He could barely look at him; much less speak to him without stuttering.

And he dreaded when Artemis asked him to read the list. He looked at it, and the big words used there made his head hurt and he could only recognize some words. To avoid any mental stress, he barely looked at it, and lied.

It was his bad luck again, Artemis was an expert liar, and could easily detect lies. And even if he couldn't, his genius could help him notice the obvious, and he obviously noticed he didn't read it. "Are you sure? Especially with the broken stairs?"

Chris looked at the list again. "There were broken stairs?" He wanted to avoid his questions.

But he asked more. As noted, Chris is a terrible liar, so he just answered honestly. Even to his most personal question.

"Can you even read?" That was a question he would've preferred not answering, but he answered honestly anyways.

Chris could feel the stunned silence. He prepared himself for the taunts and insults. But that never came. Instead, it was more questions.

And an offer.

Chris stares at Artemis, still holding the list. He couldn't tell if he was serious. He was looking at him, but not at his face. When he found his voice, he stammers out a "What?"

"I will teach you," Artemis repeats. "I've taught my brother when he was five, a person like you shouldn't be difficult."

Chris could just imagine the great Artemis Fowl II teaching him, almost a grown up, to read. He shook his head furiously. "N-No! I know how to read! It's alright." As much as Chris wanted to sound convincing, he couldn't. Not even he believed himself.

Artemis lifts a thin elegant brow. "Read the first sentence for me." It wasn't a request, it was an order.

Chris makes a pained face and lifted the list close to his face. "Sssah…sawihnts? Bri…digeds h-h…" His elbows twitched when Artemis interrupted, his face was as pained as his own.

"Stop, that's enough." Artemis rubs a temple. "You said you finished primary, how isn't it that you don't know how to read?"

Chris stares at the floor; he didn't want to look at Artemis's expression. "I lost practice," he explains. "I only went through first to fifth class. It's been six years that I've read a big book." Chris wanted to say something in defense, to show he wasn't completely stupid. "But I do know how to read and how to do math. Look." He walks a corner of the large room, which had a small bookshelf filled with old notebooks and old thin books. "I practice by helping the kids do their math tables and reading books to them. They like this one." Chris hands a thin book to Artemis, who opened it at a random page.

"Sally and Dick hid from the big bad wolf…" Artemis read aloud softly and then continued for a few seconds to read in silence. He looks up at Chris. "This is a first class book."

"Exactly," nods Chris, still looking onwards because he embarrassed. Here he was with a genius! One of Ireland's, perhaps the world's, greatest minds! Artemis intimidated him, he knew he would scoff and laugh at him and call him a retard, like people usually did. He wasn't stupid though. He just didn't know how to read.

"But you said you know math," Artemis says, closing the book. "11 times 11?"

"121," Chris answers automatically. "Easy."

"Oh? How about 121 times 121?"

Chris didn't hesitate. "14, 641."

"And that number times itself divided by thirteen?"

It wasn't even half a minute when Chris answered. "16, 489, 144," then added, "point eleven."

Artemis was impressed. All were correct. Perhaps there was some hope in Chris. "What is the square root of 815?"

"What's a square root?" Chris frowns.

Artemis gave a deep sigh. There goes hope. "You said you knew math."

Chris inched away from Artemis, more than nervous now. Even the bodyguard is staring at him. "I only know the basics…addition, subtraction, basic things the kids here usually need help with."

"Then you're definitely primary," Artemis murmurs. "Why don't you return to school?"

Chris gnawed on his lip, still nervous. "Because I can't, I'm too busy looking for a job. I need that more than I need school right now."

For a moment, Chris sounded desperate. Artemis eyes him as Chris chewed on his lip (a habit he detested on women, with men it annoyed him more). Chris fidgeted and stared at the floor. At first he thought him rude, he never looked at him when they were speaking to him. Then Artemis remembered that he probably intimidated him, like he usually did to other people.

"Look up at me," Artemis demands, and Chris slowly did. He made no direct eye contact though, which please Artemis. He says, "Once you finish your chores I will meet you downstairs and begin the first class. I will teach you how to read and how to write, and I shall make you an expert in math. Be quick with those chores, my time is short."

Chris's eyes looked downwards again and he shook his head. "After chores I have to take care of Ben." Chris walked to the now sleeping boy of earlier, and felt his forehead. "He has a fever."

"And? Tell the nurse," Artemis says simply, not caring much for Ben. The small boy was probably four or five.

Now Chris looks at him in the eye. "I said I'll tend to him and I will." His voice sounded louder, as Chris realized this he shies again. "Besides, it's Sunday today and Ms. Redwall takes her day off today. I'll just make him a soup, give him medication and help him take a bath."

Artemis looks at his watch. "It is 4:04 right now," he states. "I leave at 5:30. Six at the most."

Chris's gaze lowers again. "I'll try to finish chores quickly but…perhaps tomorrow, Mr. Fowl? Please, just if I don't finish today."

The boy sounded so hopeful. "Tomorrow I'll be going to Dublin for a meeting," Artemis says, seeing how Chris visibly deflated.

To try to hide this, Chris fidgeted more with his hands. It was a habit. "Oh…It's alright. I understand."

"But," Artemis started. "I will return the day after, on Tuesday. I promised Mother I would help her with this project."

Chris smiles and nods. "Okay. I'll be waiting."

-oOo-

Chris had been waiting patiently all day the next day but his excitement was obvious. On Tuesday, he had gotten up early to finish his chores before they came.

Only Mrs. Fowl came, the twins had returned back home. Artemis wasn't with her. He was silently disappointed, but knew he couldn't have expected anything. Mr. Fowl wasn't going to come.

But Artemis came, with the contractor with him. The renovation was going to begin soon. More surprising was seeing Butler carrying a large box.

Chris sat on his bed, reading the thickest and hardest book he could get, one of the children's book, a seventh class book. Artemis knocked on the dormitory door, and Chris got up immediately to answer it.

Artemis looks around. "Is this where we'll be working in?" he asks.

Chris gave a slow nod. He had forgotten how nervous Artemis's presence made him. "W-Well, no other place in the orphanage is quiet right now, and most of the kids are doing their homework in the library."

Artemis repressed a frown and went to sit on a bed that was besides the one Chris sat on. Butler set the box on the bed besides Artemis, Chris couldn't help look at the box curiously.

Artemis took a random book out of the box. "Your skills are probably up to third class, perhaps even fourth. This," he outstretches the book and Chris took it and looks at the title. Something about children and stars.

"That is a sixth class book," completes Artemis. "But first we will affirm your skills, yes?"

Chris nods silently, clutching the book.

The following hour was spent reading the simplest books of the orphanage. Those he read without any difficulty, going quickly but with a stutter here and there.

"It's probably just me and Butler making him nervous," thought Artemis.

But once they finally got to the explaining part (it was decided that Chris was up to fourth year) wandering kids began to come.

"Whatcha doing?" The majority asked. Even when they answered and Chris politely requested them to leave and go play outside, they persisted. They kept asking questions, grabbed things, or they asked Chris (even Butler) for piggyback rides. Only a few obeyed when they told them to leave.

Artemis was currently rubbing his forehead as Chris shooed the last one away. "How you have patience," he says tiredly, "is beyond me."

"Practice," Chris says, giving a slight shrug. "I've lived with small children all my life, I'm used to giving piggyback rides and answering questions."

"Do you have another place? Perhaps somewhere more quiet and private?" Artemis stresses the quiet part.

Chris kept clutching the same book from earlier, and he looks at his feet as he thought. "There is one place," he says eventually, nodding. "Follow me."

They were taken out to the backyard, Butler carrying the box. Then they went beyond the wooden fence, and walked to a small cluster of trees that was by the orphanage.

Chris walks to the largest tree there, a large oak tree of gigantic proportions. There was a rope ladder hanging from a branch, and on top was nicely built tree house.

"This is where I go when I need some piece of mind," Chris says, touching the tree fondly. "The Matron let me have it because I used to be a frustrated fifteen year old," he jokes dryly.

Artemis looks at the tree house distastefully. Climbing, he thought with a scowl.

"And you built the tree house on your own?" he heard Butler ask.

"No," Chris shook his head. "I did help though. If I did it on my own I would've broken something. I'm so clumsy," he sighs.

Butler climbs up slightly to touch the base of the tree house. "It's sturdy," he nods.

"And since the kids are forbidden to pass the fence and most can't climb up the ladder anyways, we'll have our peace and quiet," Chris says, forever looking somewhere else rather than Artemis.

"Fine," Artemis says. "As long as we have peace and quiet. Butler, the box," he commands.

"I'll help with that!" Chris says immediately, climbing up the ladder skillfully. "The box," he says once he was on the tree house. He outstretches his hands to Butler, and Butler climbed up a bit to hand him the box. Though he almost dropped it, Chris managed to put the box inside.

Chris waits for Artemis, looking beyond towards the orphanage. His legs were dangling off the branch and he kicked them.

Artemis hesitated, but eventually climbed up clumsily. He made it to the branch, and he stepped inside the tree house. Butler stayed on the ground, to look out for anything strange.

How ridiculous. A twenty-five year old man in a tree house, Artemis thought.

The tree house had two rooms and a roof, whoever built it did a good job. The first room, the smallest, had two beanie bag chairs and a stack of comic books in one corner. They were untouched, because Chris didn't know how to read. Artemis wondered who their owner was. The second room, the largest, had a twin sized mattress on the floor, with a surprisingly clean blanket and a pillow. There was a large window almost the size of the wall that overlooked the castle, and there were various posters hung to the wall. They were of bands; most were American bands of the eighties. There were also a lot of some horror movie and a few comic book character posters plastered on the wall. Artemis almost snorted at all this. The only thing that interested him were of the well done drawings in one corners, sketches of the Matron and of other people, most were sceneries though. They had amazing detail with great shading, the perception was caught well.

"Did you bring all of this from the orphanage?" asks Artemis, looking at Chris as Chris sat on the mattress.

"I bought it all actually," Chris says. "I did have some money when I used to work. And to be honest I only bought the beanie bag chairs, the blankets and the pillow. The rest…the mattress, the comics and the posters were brought by someone else," Chris's voice became hoarse, his expression sullen.

"And the drawings?" asks Artemis, looking a particular one of a sleeping faceless man, who was leaning against the wall.

"Er, I drew them," says Chris. "I have a lot time of my hands and I don't really like watching TV. That's no one," he says quickly, noting how Artemis was looking at that particular drawing. "Just a random person that came up on my head."

Artemis decided not to press the subject further, and began where they had left off. Of course that was somebody, Chris didn't know how to lie.

They finished their lesson of the day when Angeline called for Artemis to help make business with the contractor. Again, their lesson was cut short, but overall Artemis was pleased by the quick results. Chris could read a fifth class book without difficulty, and he started reading sixth class books.

Chris still couldn't look at him or speak without stuttering. Artemis no longer minded the stuttering though, because Chris was eager to learn from Artemis. He, unlike other people, listened.

Artemis felt oddly comfortable.

-oOo-

The days went on like that; they made a routine of it. They went to the tree house and Artemis no longer minded climbing up the ladder.

Chris read aloud to him every day, but they usually read in silence. Both he and Artemis read, Chris reading his primary and secondary books while Artemis read his more advanced books. They were accompanied by a comfortable silence; sometimes even the sea that was close by was heard.

Chris occasionally broke the silence only to ask the meaning and pronunciation of a word, and Artemis would answer. Their silence returned a moment after.

Artemis liked this, how they seemed to bond by not even speaking a word. He likes how Chris didn't force conversation on him; it was as if each other's company was enough.

Chris noticed how comfortable they were together, and he occasionally looked up to gaze at Artemis for a second, and thought about how he never seemed to show any emotion. But after observing, he knew Artemis wasn't completely emotionless. His lips turned up a bit at the corners when he read something he found funny, he frowned when it was something sad or something of the style. He seemed to read faster when he was excited, to the point where it looked that he was paging the book, and would finish that long book in two days. But Chris knew that if Artemis gave a content sigh after finishing the book, then he really liked it.

And Artemis's grammar and spelling lessons went by in a flash, because Chris was very quick in learning. If one really wanted, Artemis noticed, they could easily learn.

Two weeks have passed. They finally felt at peace with each other, and a silent friendship had been formed.

Right now they were having their silent reading session, and Chris was reading some eighth class book. There was a paragraph that caught his attention, it went:

Silence is pure; it draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit with each other without speaking.

That same day, when they took a break from their grammar lesson, Chris and Artemis finally started to have a decent conversation.

"The Matron almost had a heart attack," says Chris, commenting to Artemis on their reaction when they received Angeline's letter. He took a bite of his cookie, he was sitting cross legged on the mattress, Artemis was on a chair they had brought because he refused sitting on the mattress and on the floor. "Your mother has very pretty handwriting."

"I'm surprised you understood it," Artemis rolls his eyes, drinking his mineral water. "Mother was too excited to write slowly, she basically scrawled everything down."

Chris gave a soft chuckle and he shrugs. "I couldn't," he says. "But the Matron could, that's what mattered. It's cursive handwriting, right?"

Artemis nods. "Correct. But like I said, she was too excited to write correctly."

"Do you remember that list you made?" Chris says, suddenly changing the subject. "The one you asked me to read?"

"What of it?"

"You missed out on some stuff."

Artemis frowns. "I checked on it more than twice. What else does the house have?"

"Well," Chris starts off slowly. "That's just it. You only focused on the house. You forgot to write down what the children needed, like how we have very little volunteers and how we need more activities out of the orphanage. We're trapped in here."

Artemis took his PDA out and began typing it down as Chris explained what they needed. It was simple things, like more food, new furniture, new clothes, and especially new toys, he stressed that point.

"And you know what we need the most?" Chris says.

"What is that?" Artemis asks, looking up at wide green eyes, wide and round as plates.

"A psy-psyk-k-," Chris frowns at his stuttering. He didn't stutter because he was nervous anymore though.

"A psychologist," completes Artemis.

"Yeah, that. You know, we need someone to help us understand things. Why they happened. You remember Jenny? She's thirteen."

"Yes, I remember," Artemis says, nodding. He remembered the oldest girl of the children. She had looked ten though.

"Well she wasn't originally an orphan. It was probably three years ago that her parents died in a car crash. Worse yet, no one from her family wanted to take her in. I guess she's still not over it, I wouldn't be," Chris made a thoughtful face, then says, "A person that could help us understand why sometimes we're not wanted, or at least help us understand why somethings just seem to happen…and let us feel wanted like normal people for a moment would feel nice." Chris stares at Artemis as he typed it out.

Then Artemis looks up at Chris. "And what happened to you?" he asks.

Chris winced. That was another question he didn't like answering.

"My story isn't interesting."

Please review. And I know most of you are like "But Arty obviously isn't gay!"...I know. I'm trying to make this as realistic as possible. I hope you guys are enjoying it though, and I would like to hear your thoughts.