Yet Another Author's Note: I know you're sick of these, but I just can't
keep my mouth shut. I have made Yet Another Executive Decision to skip book
2 entirely for this fic. I thought it was a good book and all, but there's
not a whole lot of Butler and Holly interaction and I want to hurry up and
make up my own storyline instead of just showing Colfer's from an alternate
point of view. So, on with book 3, what? I knew you'd understand. ^_^ Oh,
and before I forget and have to interrupt a chapter again, I'm pretty fresh
on this book because I just read it last Friday, but I don't actually have
it sitting in front of me, as I did book 1 for the last several chapters. I
may be a teensy bit shaky on the details; please don't roast me for it. I
welcome constructive criticism and even flames (I haven't ever gotten one,
though, and it makes me feel left out in a weird way), but not fastidious
Fowl freaks (woo-hoo! major-league alliteration!) howling that I mixed up
some minutiae, okay? BE WARNED THAT THIS CHAPTER MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS, but
really it's nothing you couldn't get from reading the flyleaf.
"Holly," Foaly exclaimed, "this person could be writing our life story. It definitely needs to be checked out."
Holly rolled her eyes. "I'm going, I'm going." And she went.
Of course, as soon as she arrived at the site of the suspicious phone call, its source was apparent. Artemis Fowl stood outside the cryogenics institute, his hands in the pockets of his expensively tailored wool trench coat, a somewhat perturbed look on his countenance.
She was shielded, but the boy looked straight at her anyway. "Don't shoot," he commanded, in an awfully uppity tone for someone who looked so desperate, "I am unarmed. I need your help. I am a friend to the People, and I helped to quell the B'wa Kell. My name is--"
Holly was now worried half out of her mind. Nothing, nothing, got to Artemis Fowl like this, except for when someone close to him was in severe trouble. And where was Butler? He wouldn't let his Principal out of his sight. But she had to crack a smile. "I know your name, Artemis."
"Holly! It's you."
"Yes. Now what's going on? And where's Butler? Watching our backs, as usual, I suppose."
Artemis didn't say anything. For once, it appeared that he didn't have anything to say. But his eyes said it all.
It all seemed so unreal. The massive, seemingly invincible man, cold and lifeless in the cryo pod. The emotionless metal decor of what could well be his final resting place. The naked grief of the Fowl boy, pleading with her and Foaly.
"Will you do it, Holly? Will you try?"
Holly nodded. How could Butler be dead? She hadn't seen him for nearly a year, but somehow, in a remote part of her mind, she'd always envisioned that they'd be together someday. She knew it wasn't possible. But in her dreams. . .
*Flashback to Book 2, in the Arctic Circle: (A/N: Um, is there some kind of protocol for introducing a flashback? I honestly don't know how to do it properly.)
Finally, the People's debt was paid off. Artemis Fowl the First had been safely recovered and healed. Everyone could go home. But they weren't quite ready to, not yet.
"Marry me," Holly whispered from the confines of Butler's arms. She wanted to stay that way forever, just the two of them, warm and close and blissfully oblivious to the rest of the world.
Butler's left hand stopped moving in her hair. "I can't," he murmured into her ear. "I've already promised to spend the rest of my life with someone." Hmm. Yet another reason that Artemis Fowl should be Neutrino-ed. "Besides, the rest of my life is only going to last another fifty years, tops, even if Artemis's shenanigans don't kill me. You'll be around much longer than that."
"I suppose you're right. My government frowns on interspecies relationships anyhow." Suddenly, she giggled. "'Shenanigans?'"
The look that Butler gave her reminded her that the hand on the back of her head could kill a man eleven different ways.
"I'm sorry, love. It's just a funny word. Carry on."
He did, for a while, the tips of his fingers moving in slow, careful circles. "I would, you know," he said, almost wistfully.
"I know. And even if we can't get married, I hope Artemis's"--that look again--"um, escapades don't kill you." She gazed up at him. "Please don't die."
"Alright," he told her somberly, "I won't."
They cracked up laughing, with the humor and silliness that comes only with love. But they were both sad inside.*
Eh, that's the end of the flashback. (How do I turn this thing off?!)*
In a zombielike state, Holly prepared the patient for the healing. She removed cold packs, removed the foil suit that covered Butler's torso. There it was. A neat little bullet wound. "Right below the heart," she reported to Foaly. "I'll zoom in."
As she examined the wound, feeling returned to her numb mind. Feeling, of course only made her feel awful. "I think," she said, swallowing hard, "I think there's some Kevlar in there."
Foaly groaned. "That's all we need. Complications."
"Foaly, what difference does it make? And this is most definitely not the time for jargon; can I get some plain Gnommish up here?"
"Right. Poke your fingers into that wound. The magic will heal Butler's cells, but the Kevlar will stay there. He'll be bulletproof."
"Um, what?"
"Make a new wound, and let the magic spread from there."
"But he's frozen."
"Melt him a little. Low setting on the Neutrino 2000. Careful not to wake him up."
Holly nodded. "Where shall I melt?"
"The other pectoral. Be ready to heal. You'll have to make this quick."
Gingerly, she drew her weapon, flicked it to low, and pointed it at her dead lover's chest. Ugh, she thought, why couldn't someone else be sent to check this out? Why me? "Just say the word," she said to Foaly.
"Six inches, about. A two-second blast."
One click.
"Okay. Go." The centaur's voice was quiet and serious in her ear.
Another click. Melting warmth bloomed across Butler's icy chest.
"Now what?" she asked.
"Now get your hands in there, and give it everything you've got."
Oh, no. With a deep, shaky breath, she pushed her fingers into the wound. "Heal," she said softly, imploringly. What if Butler didn't make it? "Heal," she repeated, louder this time, more insistent. Butler had to make it. Magic poured from her hands, sparks hurrying to restore the fallen giant.
"More, Holly. Come on."
"Heal," she ordered around gritted teeth. She pushed harder, and felt her fingers slipping further into his flesh. But the flow of sparks petered and sputtered. She knew she couldn't do it.
"That's it," she said apologetically.
"Okay. Stand back. Hell breaking loose in five. Four. Three. Two. One."
And then the dead Butler moved. His back arched. His entire body shuddered as mist escaped his pores and steam rose from his skin, shaking the entire pod. Cold pack crystals exploded everywhere, shrouding the atmosphere with sparkling debris.
"Go. Get in there!"
"What?"
"Hold his head for the healing. Any damaged cells could be replicated, and we can't undo it."
She made her way over to the patient, placed a hand on each stubbly cheek.
"Hold him, Holly. Hold him!"
Holly hunched over Butler's face and watched the sparks travel up his throat. They spread across his jaw, up over his eyes, and plunged into his brain. His eyes popped open. Words in sundry languages poured from his mouth. There was a terrifying pause then. Everything seemed suspended. Holly risked briefly pressing her lips to his temple, whispering to the quivering body that she loved him.
And then all hell continued to break loose.
Hair spewed from follicles. Fingernails shot out. Butler's frame shook wildly, and as Holly squeezed ever tighter, she wondered once again whether he'd make it.
Eventually, the sparks vanished. The interior of the cryo pod was once again calm. "We did it," she said, hardly believing it. A lone tear snaked down her cheek. "He's alive."
"There's still a long way to go," Foaly reminded her. "He won't regain consciousness for quite a while, and when he does, no telling what kind of shape his mind will be in, and then of course there's the obvious problem."
Holly snapped her visor open. "What obvious problem?"
"Holly," Foaly exclaimed, "this person could be writing our life story. It definitely needs to be checked out."
Holly rolled her eyes. "I'm going, I'm going." And she went.
Of course, as soon as she arrived at the site of the suspicious phone call, its source was apparent. Artemis Fowl stood outside the cryogenics institute, his hands in the pockets of his expensively tailored wool trench coat, a somewhat perturbed look on his countenance.
She was shielded, but the boy looked straight at her anyway. "Don't shoot," he commanded, in an awfully uppity tone for someone who looked so desperate, "I am unarmed. I need your help. I am a friend to the People, and I helped to quell the B'wa Kell. My name is--"
Holly was now worried half out of her mind. Nothing, nothing, got to Artemis Fowl like this, except for when someone close to him was in severe trouble. And where was Butler? He wouldn't let his Principal out of his sight. But she had to crack a smile. "I know your name, Artemis."
"Holly! It's you."
"Yes. Now what's going on? And where's Butler? Watching our backs, as usual, I suppose."
Artemis didn't say anything. For once, it appeared that he didn't have anything to say. But his eyes said it all.
It all seemed so unreal. The massive, seemingly invincible man, cold and lifeless in the cryo pod. The emotionless metal decor of what could well be his final resting place. The naked grief of the Fowl boy, pleading with her and Foaly.
"Will you do it, Holly? Will you try?"
Holly nodded. How could Butler be dead? She hadn't seen him for nearly a year, but somehow, in a remote part of her mind, she'd always envisioned that they'd be together someday. She knew it wasn't possible. But in her dreams. . .
*Flashback to Book 2, in the Arctic Circle: (A/N: Um, is there some kind of protocol for introducing a flashback? I honestly don't know how to do it properly.)
Finally, the People's debt was paid off. Artemis Fowl the First had been safely recovered and healed. Everyone could go home. But they weren't quite ready to, not yet.
"Marry me," Holly whispered from the confines of Butler's arms. She wanted to stay that way forever, just the two of them, warm and close and blissfully oblivious to the rest of the world.
Butler's left hand stopped moving in her hair. "I can't," he murmured into her ear. "I've already promised to spend the rest of my life with someone." Hmm. Yet another reason that Artemis Fowl should be Neutrino-ed. "Besides, the rest of my life is only going to last another fifty years, tops, even if Artemis's shenanigans don't kill me. You'll be around much longer than that."
"I suppose you're right. My government frowns on interspecies relationships anyhow." Suddenly, she giggled. "'Shenanigans?'"
The look that Butler gave her reminded her that the hand on the back of her head could kill a man eleven different ways.
"I'm sorry, love. It's just a funny word. Carry on."
He did, for a while, the tips of his fingers moving in slow, careful circles. "I would, you know," he said, almost wistfully.
"I know. And even if we can't get married, I hope Artemis's"--that look again--"um, escapades don't kill you." She gazed up at him. "Please don't die."
"Alright," he told her somberly, "I won't."
They cracked up laughing, with the humor and silliness that comes only with love. But they were both sad inside.*
Eh, that's the end of the flashback. (How do I turn this thing off?!)*
In a zombielike state, Holly prepared the patient for the healing. She removed cold packs, removed the foil suit that covered Butler's torso. There it was. A neat little bullet wound. "Right below the heart," she reported to Foaly. "I'll zoom in."
As she examined the wound, feeling returned to her numb mind. Feeling, of course only made her feel awful. "I think," she said, swallowing hard, "I think there's some Kevlar in there."
Foaly groaned. "That's all we need. Complications."
"Foaly, what difference does it make? And this is most definitely not the time for jargon; can I get some plain Gnommish up here?"
"Right. Poke your fingers into that wound. The magic will heal Butler's cells, but the Kevlar will stay there. He'll be bulletproof."
"Um, what?"
"Make a new wound, and let the magic spread from there."
"But he's frozen."
"Melt him a little. Low setting on the Neutrino 2000. Careful not to wake him up."
Holly nodded. "Where shall I melt?"
"The other pectoral. Be ready to heal. You'll have to make this quick."
Gingerly, she drew her weapon, flicked it to low, and pointed it at her dead lover's chest. Ugh, she thought, why couldn't someone else be sent to check this out? Why me? "Just say the word," she said to Foaly.
"Six inches, about. A two-second blast."
One click.
"Okay. Go." The centaur's voice was quiet and serious in her ear.
Another click. Melting warmth bloomed across Butler's icy chest.
"Now what?" she asked.
"Now get your hands in there, and give it everything you've got."
Oh, no. With a deep, shaky breath, she pushed her fingers into the wound. "Heal," she said softly, imploringly. What if Butler didn't make it? "Heal," she repeated, louder this time, more insistent. Butler had to make it. Magic poured from her hands, sparks hurrying to restore the fallen giant.
"More, Holly. Come on."
"Heal," she ordered around gritted teeth. She pushed harder, and felt her fingers slipping further into his flesh. But the flow of sparks petered and sputtered. She knew she couldn't do it.
"That's it," she said apologetically.
"Okay. Stand back. Hell breaking loose in five. Four. Three. Two. One."
And then the dead Butler moved. His back arched. His entire body shuddered as mist escaped his pores and steam rose from his skin, shaking the entire pod. Cold pack crystals exploded everywhere, shrouding the atmosphere with sparkling debris.
"Go. Get in there!"
"What?"
"Hold his head for the healing. Any damaged cells could be replicated, and we can't undo it."
She made her way over to the patient, placed a hand on each stubbly cheek.
"Hold him, Holly. Hold him!"
Holly hunched over Butler's face and watched the sparks travel up his throat. They spread across his jaw, up over his eyes, and plunged into his brain. His eyes popped open. Words in sundry languages poured from his mouth. There was a terrifying pause then. Everything seemed suspended. Holly risked briefly pressing her lips to his temple, whispering to the quivering body that she loved him.
And then all hell continued to break loose.
Hair spewed from follicles. Fingernails shot out. Butler's frame shook wildly, and as Holly squeezed ever tighter, she wondered once again whether he'd make it.
Eventually, the sparks vanished. The interior of the cryo pod was once again calm. "We did it," she said, hardly believing it. A lone tear snaked down her cheek. "He's alive."
"There's still a long way to go," Foaly reminded her. "He won't regain consciousness for quite a while, and when he does, no telling what kind of shape his mind will be in, and then of course there's the obvious problem."
Holly snapped her visor open. "What obvious problem?"
