A/N: Hey, surprise surprise, I'm back again. Each chapter always takes more time to finish than I think it will...I guess I just work on too many things at once.

Anyway, this is kind of a short chapter. (It's like, the philosophical-slash-romantic comedy chapter. It's a little slow to start, and not a whole lot actually happens, but I hope it's a tiny bit fun anyway. Yes...like I said, I seem to like plots that develop painfully slow. I finally finished listening to the audiobook of Don Quixote not too long ago, and I enjoyed it a lot. ...Though I suppose that's more like a meandering plot than a slowly developing one.)

Well then, on to the chapter! :J

Chapter 7: Organization of the Mind

He woke up in the middle of the night—three in the morning for most fairies.

The time was about mid-afternoon on the surface, but since Artemis had been following a sleeping pattern similar to the fairies for purposes of convenience during his stay at the clinic, the moment he rolled out of bed and began to go about his morning routine, he already felt his body protesting the loss of rest.

However, the previous day had been moderately productive, and that helped ease the ache in his head a little. Most notably, he had finished the abominably digressive and long-winded Noble Heart. Now when Foaly and Mulch made reference to it as per their usual delighted jibes in all things concerning his illness, he would be more than prepared to get in the last word.

However, patience had its limits, and upon finally completing his perusal of the novel, he had buried the thing deep in his suitcase, hoping never to have the misfortune of laying eyes on it again. However, rethinking the matter, he'd drawn it back out, wrapped it in black paper, and locked it in the titanium safe where he kept his most important valuables. He couldn't afford to chance his mother getting a hold of it, after all.

As Artemis clicked on the room lights and made in the direction of the adjacent bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair, he sighed.

As of late, his mother had been using his illness as an opportunity to press her case that he needed to behave more like a normal teenager. She was forever hinting that his cure might lie in that and, regrettably, she seemed whole-heartedly convinced that behaving like an ordinary boy his age included thinking more about girls. As a result, Artemis did not think his mother needed anything to add further fuel to her enthusiasm.

After taking special care with his appearance—he preferred not to meet his parents for the first time in months appearing like the stereotypical psychiatric patient—and using the spare time to check a few stocks, Artemis was perfectly packed and all ready to go by the time Butler and Juliet finally arrived, precisely seventeen minutes after the designated time. As he well knew, Juliet was not able to keep an appointment for anything in the world, but as he had taken that into account, they would still still reach Fowl Manor in the early evening, as planned.

When Artemis's things were divided up between Butler and Juliet in an approximately seventy-thirty ratio, they left the clinic and headed toward the shuttleport.

Overall, the shuttle ride to the surface was not unpleasant. Juliet chattered almost the entire time, making small talk with the pilot to keep herself occupied, though seemingly oblivious to his alarming tendency to scuff the shuttle against the walls of the tunnel.

The sprite dropped them off within walking distance of the airport. He waved happily at Juliet, trying to squeeze in one last story involving his daredevil heroics before they parted, oblivious to the scowl Butler was orienting in his direction. Butler had just spent half a year in Haven, so he knew all about sprites and their constant drive to impress the ladies, and he did not appreciate such an attempt being made on his little sister. However, the sprite took as little notice of the danger Butler presented as that presented by the chute walls, and he was humming to himself as he reignited the shuttle engines and headed cheerfully back to Tara.

The group trekked to the parking lot where the servants had left the Bentley the previous day; the Fowl Manor employees had been given the day off, so there was no one waiting to pick him up. His father had wanted to come up himself to welcome Artemis home as soon as he arrived, but Artemis had succeeded in convincing him that would not be a wise course of action. There was no way to know precisely when their flight would arrive, and there was arguably no public place more dangerous for a man of Artemis Fowl the First's importance than an airport, so Artemis said. His father agreed with his reasoning, but Artemis thought he'd still seemed disappointed.

So much secrecy, Artemis thought with a sigh. So many lies.

Artemis hadn't seen his parents in almost two months, not since his visit over Christmas. His only other visit besides that one had been just a few weeks after his initial incarceration. At the time, Artemis had given his father a vague description of his problem and, with his mother's help, convinced him that he would be better off being treated in Germany at the best mental facility available—even if the doctors there all had the notion that minimal human contact was ideal for recovery and so forbade even his own parents to see him while he was undergoing treatment.

But of course, this was Artemis Fowl Senior, and Artemis knew his father must already suspect that there was more going on than he was being told. Likely when he was back in the manor, his father would attempt to question him more seriously—considering that evasion was probably impossible, he would have to contrive a more convincing cover story.

Strangely, however, the thought of even this minor deception needled his conscience. It baffled him how just a few short years ago he had spent months diabolically planning how he would abduct another sentient being for purposes of extortion with no more than twinge of discomfort, and now he could not even tell a lie that was really for the best of all involved without feeling like a criminal. It was even more strange, considering that the alternative to the lie was much more drastic, the mesmer or possibly a selective mind-wipe.

In spite of all his gnawing worries, however, Artemis found that he was sincerely anxious to see his parents and even his trouble-making little brothers again. Living apart from his family for such an extended period had been more difficult than he had anticipated.

It's going to be a challenge to navigate such complicated, conflicting sensations, he thought. But I must accept that is how it will be from now on.

"Hey, Artemis, I have a question."

Artemis pulled himself out of his thoughts and turned to see Juliet, who had opted to sit in the back with him rather than in the front passenger seat next to her brother. There was something about the mischievous gleam in the younger Butler's eyes that made Artemis think this could bode nothing good.

"Yes, Juliet?" said Artemis, regarding her with a hint of suspicion.

"Oh, it's nothing really. Just that Mulch and Nº1 showed me this interesting book that I'm curious about."

"Hmm." Artemis refused to allow his expression to give anything away. "And what kind of book would that be?"

"Funny thing," said Juliet, and she seemed to have to fight hard to keep a straight face. "Apparently it was a book written by you."

"Is that so?" Remarkably, Artemis maintained the detached tone of someone discussing the weather.

"Yes." Juliet was clearly grinning now. "But I was disappointed when I didn't see a dedication to Dom and me in the opening pages. I mean, we've had such an impact on your life, you could at least mention us somewhere, now that you're a big fancy novelist and all."

"Must have slipped my mind," said Artemis. "You will have to speak to me again when I am in the midst of another psychotic episode."

Juliet was looking positively delighted now. "Well, never mind, I guess we can forgive you. But I do want to know. Who could this 'Hollina Shortera' be? The embodiment of Artemis Fowl's ideal woman?"

Artemis barely managed to refrain from snorting aloud. Ideal woman indeed. However, had Holly been sitting in the car with them, he might have been more inclined to wince than be amused. Artemis had long since gotten the feeling that if Holly had a hit list, Orion's antics would have already put him at the top.

"Certainly the embodiment of Artemis Fowl's deranged alter ego's ideal woman," Artemis replied dryly. "Which would hardly be flattering for anyone, I would think."

"So," said Juliet, the corners of her lips curling even further. "You're going to claim total innocence. That all this 'my lady this' and 'my princess that' isn't actually somehow stemming from a secret passion of yours, Arty." Juliet couldn't have looked more pleased with herself if she had just struck the felling blow in a fistfight.

Secret passion, thought Artemis incredulously. Leave it to Juliet to make absolutely no effort at subtlety or tact in her usual pursuit of deriving every possible shred of amusement from his psychosis. Her terminology was so universally ludicrous, he wasn't sure whether to roll his eyes in exasperation or laugh aloud.

Still, this subject continued to hold a small measure of discomfort for him, for reasons Juliet was fortunately unaware. He had already had to endure similar snide comments from the likes of Foaly and Mulch Diggums concerning Orion's romantic preferences. Early on, he had made the error of opting to deflect and avoid the topic with a little too much precision, but fortunately his tactics for discouraging interest in that area had grown considerably more sophisticated over the months: If his antagonists wished him to get self-conscious and irritated when the subject arose, then naturally the most effective course was to deny them that pleasure by doing the opposite.

Artemis shook his head sadly as though he pitied Juliet for being so slow. "I think not. You see, Juliet, I determined some time ago that I should only allow myself to take an interest in girls who fully appreciate my talents, and treat me with the abject adoration my many considerable gifts deserve. Desirable as Captain Short's many personal strengths may make her, she quite obviously does not fit that description, which I'm afraid invalidates her as a candidate for my attentions."

Artemis saw his strategy have the desired effect. Juliet slumped back against the seat, looking more exasperated than amused now. "Leave it to you, Arty, to try to stick a bunch of complicated calculations on matters of the heart," she said. "A person can't decide who they like, you know. So why don't you just stop thinking for a minute and just focus on what you feel? Like, emotions, remember those?"

"The average person does not have control over such things," Artemis agreed loftily. "But in matters such as these, I believe all that is needed is organization of the mind."

Juliet, finding herself utterly thwarted in her fun, scowled at him. "Well," she said, a little sullenly, "I still say you have an enormous crush on Holly, but either you're in denial or you just don't want to admit it, one of the two."

Outwardly, Artemis was smug, but he noticed Juliet studying his expression very closely, apparently still searching for weakness, some bit of evidence that proved she had hit the mark. Eventually, she gave a dissatisfied sigh and turned away.

Artemis had to resist the urge to sigh himself. Juliet's behavior at the moment was strongly reminiscent of Mother's. Honestly, what was it with females and the incessant need to be informed of every romantic sentiment within their immediate vicinity?

Juliet was quiet for a minute, staring out the tinted window. Then she sat up a little and turned back to Artemis, and when she did she was grinning again, her impish good cheer already restored. "I guess it's just as well," she said with a dismissive shrug. "It would never have worked anyway. You know how it is in all the classics: interspecies romance is always filled with loads of tragedy and peril, and I just can't see either of you going to the trouble. Not to mention you'd probably claw each others' throats out before the end of the year."

Artemis raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't respond. He knew better than to contradict someone who was probably right.

"So," she went on, "I hear that Minerva girl's going to stop by once you get back to the manor. Now there would be a match made in heaven if either of you could stop doing quantumatic stramatus equations or whatever long enough to notice anybody else. Not to mention it would make Dom's day to get her as a pseudo-daughter-in-law; they really got to be great friends while you were gone in...what was it? Some other dimension?"

There was an embarrassed cough from the driver's seat, but neither Juliet nor Artemis paid the bodyguard any mind.

Artemis did not react to this new development in the conversation, but silently he began to suspect that Juliet's sudden interest in his romantic life was less the result of a naturally ingrained feminine nosiness—not that she didn't have plenty—and was more likely brought about by an actual directive from his mother. And as per those orders, Juliet was using the absurd novel as an excuse to bring the subject up.

Artemis refrained from correcting Juliet on the quantumatic stramatus comment, as no such thing existed, instead saying simply, "Ah, so Minerva's coming. I understand she has been working a fairly tight schedule recently, so I doubt she will be able to stay long. Although, perhaps she will arrive in time for my surprise welcome home party. I expect all the preparations will be complete by the time we arrive?"

Artemis couldn't quite keep the smugness from his expression as Juliet's mouth dropped open in shock. "You weren't supposed to know about that."

"I gathered as much."

After several seconds, Juliet closed her mouth and twisted her lips into a pout. "You're no fun at all, Arty. You know that'll cost you when you finally do decide to go after a girl. Take it from me, no sane girl likes a guy who isn't at least a little fun—no matter how smart he is."

Artemis's smirk only broadened as he turned to look out the window. "Thank you, Juliet. I will be sure to keep that in mind."

The small apartment room was completely dark when Holly awoke.

She had been dreaming about something she couldn't remember, and her eyes flickered restlessly over the space for a moment. She blinked, then blinked again, and at last her mind clicked back into functionality.

She forced herself to sit up, grimacing as she did. Her limbs felt like lead, and she rubbed her stiff neck. She dragged herself off her futon and began getting ready for work.

Lack of sleep tended to make Holly irritable, so lately it seemed as though she was in a less-than-savory mood a good deal of the time. But she got the feeling today was going to be especially bad.

She had barely gotten any sleep that night. Thoughts of Artemis leaving and Trouble telling her his feelings had chased each other around and around in her head, and so in the end, she'd found herself picking up Orion's novel yet again, and flipping through the pages of overblown speeches and unrealistic plot twists.

Orion was definitely living up to expectation as an untiring chatterbox; the lengthy descriptions and meandering subplots were endless, and there was enough melodrama and romantic sentimentality to gag a teenage girl. However, as she skimmed the chapters, her mind kept circling back to the story near the beginning, the noble knight, when he was still the great warrior, and his fight with the brave young fighter from the king's personal guard.

The great warrior had killed the boy, then realized the error of his ways and dramatically transformed into the noble knight of the story. In Holly's opinion, that would be about as likely as Damon Kronski suddenly declaring himself an ardent animal lover. Apparently Orion just didn't get how the whole villainy thing worked. A psychotic warrior who set out to conquer the kingdom and slaughtered scores of enemies wasn't going to drop all his schemes and take up heroism on behalf of the common people after killing one knight. Especially considering that, in a way, it turned out he had been right from the start. The young man had claimed he was going to save the land, but his will to do so had been crushed by the great warrior's will to destroy. He'd been killed, and the only thing that had saved the land was the great warrior's sudden, unlikely change of heart. Looking at it from a strictly logical point of view, the young man's idealistic view had ultimately failed.

Holly sighed and made her way to the kitchen for a breakfast nettle smoothie. She tore open a package and, pouring in a cup of water, shook the concoction vigorously. At last she tilted back her head and felt the slush ooze down her throat.

But clearly, the book was of the kind written for the sole purpose of validating some convoluted philosophical viewpoint. It was supposed to exude a feeling of depth on abstract musings, not be realistic. It was just the typical deluded ravings of Orion. In fact, the real Artemis's thoughts on the subject were much more practical.

Holly paused, and a memory from one of the many casual conversations they had had in Artemis's hospital room came back hazily to her mind.

"Of course, honor and heroism are all well and good. But I think if you were to pause and reflect, you would see that believing that there are no situations where less palatable measures are required is simply naïve."

Holly had rolled her eyes and replied, "Oh please. Tell me you aren't going to conjure up some outrageous scenario about a terrorist who's the only one who knows the location of a bomb that's about to go off. If I hear that argument one more time, I might scream. Real life doesn't generally work like that, strangely enough."

A smile. "Perhaps there is a logical gap in taking a rare, most-extreme scenario to justify some heinous general practice. However, I think you'll find there are many realistic dilemmas of a similar spirit, if less theatrical. Let us say you have a known murderer in your power, whom you know will most likely eventually escape captivity and likely kill more innocent people if you do not put an end to him personally right then and there. If you are willing to kill in cold blood, then you may prevent a great deal of suffering. Your conscience may not allow you to kill the murderer, but then, isn't anyone he kills after that also your responsibility and on your conscience? In that light, perhaps refusing to take the necessary action simply for the sake of keeping one's peace of mind and sense of honor, in order to view oneself as a 'true hero,' may be called almost...selfish?"

"Selfish," Holly had snorted. "Only you, Artemis. I wouldn't laugh, except I know you don't really think that. What makes a hero a hero is that he understands that listening to his conscience isn't about him, or keeping his image as a hero. Resigning himself to be a monster for some noble purpose will turn him into a real monster in the end, and what he's been trying to stop all along will win. So he sticks to his conscience, because that's the only way to the happy ending for everyone."

"Or she," he had said, smiling. "But what if a hero fights and fights, but can't stop the evil? What if in the end, he realizes there can be no happy ending without sacrifice?"

Holly's eyes fell again on the novel. In a way, her own thoughts had always been similar to Orion's. A part of her leaned toward ideas of good, of love and justice, that bordered on naïve. Yet there was in her a realistic, perceptive side too, which rose in defiance of the beautiful, oversimplified picture those like Orion would try to paint. The two sides often clashed and wrestled in her mind, but generally her mother's exhortation that she must spend her life saving creatures had won out in the past.

But isn't that almost selfish?

Holly's brow furrowed. Artemis had said that almost like a joke, but she knew from his past actions that a hardened part of him believed it.

Artemis saw it as selfish to act in the honorable, heroic way at times, but perhaps he was tired of thinking that way, of making those sacrifices. Which was why Orion had appeared, to be so perfectly naïve and honorable as to be a complete incompetent, and to always do the noble thing regardless of what was most pragmatic, when Artemis couldn't bring himself to.

"Why do you want Artemis back? He is nasty and mean to everyone."

Artemis could often be ruthless and manipulative. The effort she had often put in to determining whether he had an ulterior motive for something he was saying or doing had left her exhausted more than once. Yet when Orion had asked that question, she hadn't even had to think about her answer.

Holly suited up and got ready for work, snapping on her belt and tying up her bootlaces.

Why do you want Artemis back?

Holly clipped her badge onto her lapel, and went to the door, curling her fingers around the handle.

Because Artemis gets things done, she thought. When things were looking bleak, Artemis took responsibility for all ruthlessness upon himself, and placed everyone else in a position where they had no choice but to bend to his will, to act for the best without regard to conscience. He blackened his own conscience and allowed everyone else's to remain perfectly clear.

Things were beginning to look dark again, but Artemis was out of commission now. What would she do, Holly wondered, when she came to a point where she needed to cut off someone's thumb, or break all the laws of her people and journey back in time? What would she do, without Artemis there to take the decision away from her?

Holly arrived at her cubicle and waited almost an hour for Trouble and Foaly to finish their meeting with the Council. They were probably now providing additional detail on the current situation, making suggestions about what further measures needed to be taken in response to the discovery and haggling for resources.

Although Holly had not even thought about it until she arrived at work, she had no doubt that, as soon as the meeting let out, she would be dispatched to the surface on a mission related to the whole demon-goblin problem. That situation took priority; with what they knew it was a wonder they were still taking things this slow.

Politics, she thought with disgust. Bureaucracy. She often thought all that red tape killed more people than it saved.

So, she thought idly, Artemis is probably back at Fowl Manor by now. Even taking into consideration the few hours it took to make it to the surface from Haven, plenty of time had passed since he was supposed to leave, and it was already evening by the Mud People's clock.

Holly was glad she hadn't tried to see Artemis the previous night, or that morning. She hadn't been in the most cheerful mood after leaving Trouble at the restaurant, and even worse, a part of her irrationally suspected that the moment Artemis saw her, he would somehow divine from her face Trouble's confession. And of course, Artemis being Artemis wouldn't be able to resist dropping a snide remark.

But more than that, she liked the idea of stopping by the manor. Artemis had told her before that she ought to stop by sometime when there wasn't a crisis, and Holly had always meant to, but with the tight regulations on surface excursions and her packed work schedule, she had never gotten around to it, not even once. It would be a good opportunity to demonstrate that was going to change now, and make it seem like less of a goodbye.

However, it seemed the last half of Holly's scheme was destined to be thwarted.

The demon-goblin escape had suddenly gone from a minor inconvenience barely anyone knew about to a level one priority. As Holly watched personnel running about like decapitated chickens, to use the grotesque human saying, Holly knew the head-honchos would soon be shunting a whole lot more agents to the surface to help with the head hunt. Which meant the LEP was about to be dangerously short on staff, with slave-labor overtime hours. Which meant zero time off in the foreseeable future.

Sighing in frustration to herself, Holly started to pull out her digipad, to work on some of the reports she had gotten a little behind on. However, she paused as her eyes fell on her communicator sitting on her desk. Shooting a nervous glance around the office, she picked it up and scrolled to the com-code of the communicator she had slipped to Artemis a few years ago. She considered briefly, then input a quick message.

Hey, Arty, sorry I missed seeing you go this morning. Hope your trip was ok. I was thinking I would try to stop by the manor this evening, but things are a little hectic here at the LEP as usual, and it looks like I'm going to be swamped. But I'll come see you as soon as I get a few seconds to myself. Don't get lonely without me, Mud Boy.

Holly studied the message, and wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or groan. She sounded like a workaholic parent missing the kid's third crunchball game in a row, trying to smooth things over by making unlikely promises.

After a moment of thought, Holly changed the 'ok' to 'okay,' just to avoid giving Artemis the chance to pass a smart remark about childish spelling idiosyncrasies, and added 'and Butler' after the 'But I'll come see you.' She also looked at the last line again. She had meant it as a joke, but as she read it, her fingers tapped the desk in agitated discomfort. Quickly she changed 'without me' to 'without us,' then, peering over the message one more time, she sent it.

Feeling a little better, but not entirely satisfied, Holly turned back to her desk and pulled out the digipad, and tried to force herself to focus on the e-forms. For the last few months it seemed as though anxiety had become something like a way of life for her, an ever-present reality which hung over her head all the time, and it only intensified when she had something in particular to worry over. After last night, another source of anxiety was definitely not what she needed.

Holly let out a long breath. She had a feeling she was going to be even more anxious than usual until she saw Artemis again.

Holly stood outside Trouble's office, waiting to be admitted. After hanging around in her cubicle for almost an hour and occupying herself with what work she could find, the meeting had finally let out and Trouble had called her down.

Ignoring the usual look of disdain the secretary was aiming in her direction, Holly stared at the plaque on the door in front of her as she tried to guess what kind of reception she should expect to receive.

After a minute or two, Holly heard the secretary take a breath as though to speak, but then she heard a muffled "Come in" through the door.

Holly closed her eyes and breathed deeply as bits and pieces of her conversation with Trouble the night before came back to her. She couldn't know if Trouble would still be in a bad mood over the argument, and she didn't know how she herself might react to how he behaved; her anger had drained away, but she also wasn't exactly in a mood to play peacemaker, either.

Arranging her face into what she hoped was a detached, professional expression, Holly opened the door and stepped inside.

She found Trouble sitting behind the large desk that had once been occupied by Commander Root. Trouble had been forced to spend a lot of time behind it since being appointed Recon Commander: something Holly never would have expected her action-oriented friend to willingly subject himself.

Holly stood in front of the desk in silence, and he gazed at her as she stared straight ahead.

When she was just starting to wonder if she should speak up, even though as the lower-ranked officer it was not her place to initiate, Trouble said, "Captain Short. I've decided to put you with one of the surface Reconnaissance teams to uncover the location of the rogue goblin and demons. The Council has authorized immediate neutralization of the targets upon sight, though a Retrieval team will be on standby at all times. You will be working with Major Evergreen, who is personally overseeing this operation. Any questions?"

Holly relaxed slightly at the crisp, official tone, which carried no hostility.

Major Evergreen—that was a surprise. Majors normally stayed belowground, assigning missions to those beneath them and sitting chained at their desks pushing papers, so to speak. But she supposed things had changed around the LEP somewhat since Trouble had become commander.

"Neutralization," she said. "Does that mean they want us to kill them?"

"They want the targets alive, if possible. But yes, that's what the Council basically said."

Holly had a bitter taste in her mouth. The goblin and the demons were, of course, a serious threat to all Mud People and to the continued secrecy of the existence of the People, but there was something about it that didn't sit well with her. It was like they were being sent up as assassins. If Commander Vinyáya had still been on the Council, she would never have stood for it.

"Yes sir," Holly said, though internally she had no intention of gunning down any fairies. If she crossed paths with any of the perps, she would haul them in without resorting to that, though she figured Trouble would already realize that much.

"Good. Then you are dismissed, Captain," Trouble said formally.

Holly turned and was already to the door when he said, almost hesitantly, in a slightly gentler tone, "And be careful, Holly."

"I will." And then, because for some reason she felt safer in this particular environment, professional, almost impersonal, she added, "And...I'm sorry about yesterday. I mean, I apologize for my conduct yesterday evening, sir."

"No need," he said, in a tone that made Holly sure that he wasn't upset anymore, either.

The last thing Holly heard as she left the room was the sound of a slight sigh, as though he was a little disappointed.

A/N: So, like I said, not much happened this chapter. It's kind of a transition chapter, setting things up for later events and so on. Chapter eight's kind of like that, too... For some reason, I feel like I can't get to the exciting things I most want to write until I do a lot of legwork first. There are probably both good and bad things about that particular writing philosophy, but I guess we'll see how well it works out.

Again, massive credit goes to levina for beta-work, you'd be forced to read so many awkward lines and phrases if it wasn't for her. (And even some of the wording/phrasing was written by her, alchemized from the confusing/incomprehensible goo that was there before.) Thanks so much!

Thank you all for your comments last chapter! I know it was a long one, I can't tell you how glad I am you're still with me! Please tell me what you thought this time, and I hope to see you next chapter. (:

Posted 10/18/13, rewritten a little late January 2015

Edited 10/1/18: Trimmed and rewrote parts of the early scenes for conciseness.