Author's Note: I wasn't actually planning to post this fic at all, but seeing as I still haven't finished the fic that I intended to put up, I thought I'd go with this instead. Hopefully I'll be able to get the other one done within a couple of days and be able to put it up then. (But this is me, and I've been having a bit of trouble with that fic, so who knows?)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this fanfic, not even the setting, as it's during the third book. It all belongs to Eoin Colfer. Wah.
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THE SECOND PARENT
It had been sixteen days. The air of the hospital room was so thick with unspoken thoughts that nobody dared to say anything, and the machines were allowed to quietly beep alone.
Angeline had spent the time nervously watching her unconscious husband. Artemis had spent it inspecting the instruments. Juliet had procured a pack of cards from somewhere and played a thousand games of solitaire, sitting cross-legged on a chair at the back. Butler had been watching all of this, but especially Artemis.
He knew his young charge was worried, even if he hid it well. He had also realised that Artemis was not afraid his father wouldn't wake up - no, he trusted Holly's magic. Artemis was worrying about what it would be like when he did. Butler understood; the boy hadn't seen his father in two years.
Artemis shifted in his seat. Butler looked at him, even though he knew he was just restless. But then the boy spoke, pointing at one of the multitude of screens. "Look at that." Three heads swivelled to comply. "He'll wake up soon," proclaimed Artemis, standing up. He went to the door, opened it and called for a nurse. The lines on the screen meant little to Butler but he believed what Artemis had said.
Soon they were ushered from the room and a string of medical professionals squeezed past them into it. Butler only gave each one's face a cursory glance; he was too busy studying that of his young employer. For once he couldn't decipher the boy's expression.
They waited in the corridor for almost a minute, Angeline pacing backwards and forwards, the fingernails of her left hand automatically between her teeth. Artemis merely stared into the distance.
Then there was a nurse at the door: red-haired, eager but intimidated, hands clasped together. "He's asking for you, Mrs Fowl."
Angeline flew to the door in a heartbeat, abandoning the others in her single-minded haste. Artemis watched her go, still wearing the expression that Butler couldn't quite dissect.
They were back to waiting in the oppressive silence. Or not quite silence: there were mutterings from inside the room, and a distant clattering from the other end of the corridor as staff went about their work. But nothing was said between the three figures near the doorway.
As another minute passed, Butler watched a frown creep onto Artemis's face as the boy stared at the floor. Butler carefully laid a hand on his shoulder and the boy looked up. They locked eyes for a moment. Then Butler removed his hand. That had been enough. And yet still nothing had been said out loud.
The next person to speak was Angeline, returning to the door. "Come in, everyone," she said. "He wants to see you." Butler noted that despite how spaced-out she was, there was a glow to her now.
Artemis slowly moved to the door and Angeline stepped back to allow him in. Butler turned to his sister, who was looking up at him, and nodded. He put a hand behind her back and steered her in front of him. Everyone, she'd said. Not just Artemis.
Once inside, Butler hardly moved from the door. His sister took a few steps and halted. Angeline was halfway between the bed and the door, standing off to the side. All of the staff had cleared themselves to the edges of the room. Artemis the Second was frozen in mid-step, almost at the bed when his inertia had failed him. For the brief moment when the whole world seemed to have stopped, Butler studied Artemis Fowl the First. He looked... young again. The way he'd been when Butler had first met him, before business had taken him over. Was that the effect of the magic or of his expression?
"Arty," cried Artemis Sr, breaking the spell. "You're a man now. A young man." He had stretched out his arms to his son.
Suddenly all of the reserve and calculation was forgotten, and Artemis was running to his father. As the boy's cheek pressed into the fabric of his father's shirt, Butler could only just see his face. But he could see enough. He'd seen that expression only once before, on that Christmas Day after the longest Christmas Eve, when Artemis had been enveloped into his newly-recovered mother's embrace. Just once, though lord knew he'd watched Artemis carefully, even in those private moments when the two were alone. He'd half hoped, guiltily, to see it in one of those moments - whatever Madame Ko said.
Butler understood what this expression meant. Artemis had his father again.