A/N: Hey, it may have taken awhile, but I'm back again.
I made some serious revisions to the later chapters of this story in the intervening months (which they had been badly needing for some time), so I'm happy about that. It's been a hard-fought battle, but I think I'm learning to be more concise in my writing. I've still got a long way to go though, so wish me luck.
(Oh, and I also got a new laptop. My old one, which I got for my birthday during my senior year of high school, suddenly got a problem with its power connection and would no longer charge. However, it lasted for well over six years, so I can't complain. So far, I mostly seem to be using the new one for fanfiction...which means I've been using it a lot.)
Anyway, here it is. Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end!
Chapter 9: Pleasant at All Times
The squad working under Major Evergreen wasn't having any luck.
Holly and her assigned partner, Corporal Elm Snyder, a wiseguy who had a lot to say about his fellow officer's relationship to the commander, had already combed much of their sector of Dublin, but with so many nooks and crannies it was obvious they weren't going to find anything this way. Ordinarily they would have simply put to use one of Foaly's many gadgets to detect the use of advanced fairy technologies in the vicinity, but, although it would have pained Foaly to admit it, apparently the suspects' tech was a cut above the usual, and somehow preventing any useful signals from reaching the LEP.
After a few hours of this meaningless search, it began to dawn on Holly that Major Evergreen was simply putting them through the motions, and actually hadn't a clue what he was doing.
Now I know what he means by needing a little creativity, she thought. However, contrary to his expectations, she couldn't think of anything better herself. Unable to rely on their usual technological support, they were virtually hunting blind. Considering the size of the city, they could never hope to scour all those areas a fairy might safely tuck himself away. And after the confrontation the previous day, they couldn't even be sure the renegades were still in this city. This was a monumental waste of time.
As it grew late, Holly began to toy with the idea of calling Artemis. He almost always had a solution, or five, when it came to situations like this. However, Trouble had expressly forbidden her from giving Artemis any more details concerning this affair, and she knew Foaly had an ear on any communication line. She didn't think Foaly would actually say anything, but he and Trouble were apparently on particularly good terms these days, and she couldn't be entirely sure.
Holly wished she could slip away to the manor for just a few hours. That was the only way she could guarantee a private conversation. But she doubted that would be happening anytime soon.
"Found anything?" drawled her partner in a bored tone.
"Nope. You?" Holly answered with equal lack of enthusiasm.
"No. Not anything relevant to what we're doing anyway. Huh, what was the mission again? Do you remember?"
This attitude was not particularly professional, but Holly sympathized with the feeling. She said dryly, "I think I wrote it down somewhere, let me check."
Snyder chuckled. "I just love your sense of humor. Oh, I'm not flirting or anything, by the way. I respect the commander's claim."
Holly decided to communicate her distinct disdain for this topic by maintaining radio silence. As she had the other ten times Snyder had insisted on bringing it up.
What is with this fixation on our relationship? Holly thought irritably. It was like they couldn't think of anything else to talk about. Surely Trouble wasn't having to put up with this. No doubt he'd shout them down if they tried.
For the first time, Holly saw the advantage in being a regional commander. At times like these, the authority to thoroughly cow the cheekier officers would come in handy.
"So," said Snyder cheerfully, not taking a hint. "That reminds me. While we're still looking for our perps, who may or may not be within a fifty-mile radius of us—What do you see in him exactly? Sure, he's commander, but he's a bit on the over-the-edge crazy side, if you know what I mean. You've heard that story about the troll, haven't you?"
Holly was about to tell Snyder where to stick it, but fortunately just then another voice joined the conversation.
"Snyder!" snapped Major Evergreen, even his amicable disposition apparently having its limits.
"Oops," whispered the corporal, breaking off from where he had been idly circling around a street lamp, and veering down a nearby alleyway to pretend to go look there.
Holly stood on the edge of an old, three-story building overlooking a long stretch of city of rundown shacks and abandoned buildings. A veritable maze of bars, brothels, and drug houses. If the suspects were still hiding in this city, Holly had suggested it made more sense for them to take up somewhere in the slums, where no one would ask too many questions about strange things happening or mesmerized humans acting strangely. But that didn't seem to narrow it down a whole lot.
"Captain Short?"
Holly blinked. "Here, sir," she responded.
"I want you to return to the hide right now. I have something I wish to speak with you about."
"Captain Short's already taken, sir," said her partner helpfully.
Major Evergreen was not amused.
Not fifteen minutes later, Holly was standing in front of the major's desk inside the cham pod once again. The skin of the portable building was insulated and she found herself grateful to get out of the chill for a moment. However, she was slightly nervous as to what the major had called her in for.
Major Evergreen surveyed her carefully as she stood at attention in front of the desk.
"Good work, Captain. I appreciate your cooperation, despite the nagging feeling we are all doing little more than throwing our time down a magma chute. I know it's difficult to keep at it when we don't seem to be making any progress."
Holly didn't know how to respond. She did not think in all her time with the LEP she had ever seen a commanding officer act so consistently friendly, apologetic even. Perhaps whatever had happened to his memory really had somehow changed his personality. Although Holly appreciated being treated with some respect at last, she couldn't help but feel Major Evergreen seemed a little soft to be an effective major. He wouldn't get obedience and discipline this way.
"I can tell what you're thinking," said Major Evergreen, the corner of his mouth flickering in a faint smile.
"Sir?" said Holly, startled.
"And you're right," he went on. "But I should tell you I have a reason to be nice to you, Captain. I suppose one might say I'm buttering you up, because I have a special request to make of you that you may not be too thrilled about."
Holly had gone very still, every muscle tense.
"You've been doing an excellent job, Captain," he continued. "And, as you can see, there is not much to be done around here at the moment. Pushing ourselves will probably do little good, since we are no closer to capturing our perpetrators than we were yesterday."
Holly waited in silence for the major's "request." Although disobeying a commanding officer had arguably become something of a way of life for her, experience never made it any easier. And Holly had a feeling that whatever Major Evergreen wanted, if he thought she wouldn't like it, she probably wouldn't.
"What I mean to say is, I understand you have a friend that was released from Dr. Argon's clinic today, and is likely to have a social gathering of some sort in celebration here on the surface. I would understand if you wanted to be there, being such a close friend—it would be a shame for you to miss this chance to show your support, when we are essentially just uselessly frittering away our time here."
Holly said nothing. Whatever thread of logic she'd been following that would help her make sense of this situation had just flown out the window.
"Yes, you might stop by," Evergreen said. "Take a bit of a break from this assignment, and show good faith from the People. And, perhaps after a little careful thought on the way there, and after being so refreshed when you return, you will have those creative ideas on how to proceed I mentioned earlier."
The major gave Holly a pointed look.
"I see," said Holly quietly after a moment. The major wanted her to go see Artemis and get an idea, or maybe several, from him. It was the very action she herself had been considering, but there was something she didn't like about it.
"Commander Kelp ordered me to work at this location," she said carefully. "And not speak of LEP affairs to unauthorized parties."
"The commander bears a great deal of responsibility, and is under quite a bit of strain in light of these events," said the major evenly. "But he left this matter to us to take care of. I think he would understand if we felt compelled to use our own best judgment. Wouldn't you agree?" His voice was light, but his brown eyes like old coffee grounds were intense as they bore into Holly's.
It took her a moment, but Holly soon understood what it was that was making her stomach twist slightly with discomfort. The veiled suggestion he was making for her to do something directly against regulations, it reminded her vaguely of Ark Sool, when he had been hinting at her to kill Nº1. "The least complicated and most permanent course of action." This was a different matter and a different kind of order, but in some sense it was the same thing. A superior was suggesting she do something that would violate commands she was already obligated to follow, and if she was found out, she would be the one who would have to take responsibility for it. Holly didn't know how to respond.
Without waiting for a reply, Major Evergreen continued calmly, "Of course, I will not force you into doing anything that would impose on your sense of honor, Captain. Only—" His eyebrows buckled slightly, in a look of something like desperation. "Only when in a situation as dire as this one, I believe in using all the resources available to us, even if we find them distasteful." His voice dropped. "That human's mind is a powerful resource even if no one else in positions of authority in the LEP will admit it, and you, Captain, being on such good terms with him, are in a unique position to put that resource to use."
There must have been something about Holly's expression that betrayed her thoughts, because he went on quickly, "That is not to say I am suggesting you use your friendship in an underhanded way, of course. It is as much to his advantage as ours to stop these murderers, seeing as how these are humans being murdered. Perhaps I am mistaken, but I think you feel the same way I do on this, Captain. I don't want to lose any of my people if breaking a few rules and swallowing a bit of our over-inflated fairy pride could have prevented it."
Looking into the major's earnest expression, Holly suddenly flashed back to that incident just before the goblin rebellion had officially broken out. When they had brought Artemis belowground for questioning and Root had decided they could use Artemis's incredible intelligence along with his bodyguard's physical capabilities to help solve their problem. At the time, she had been completely against it; however, if she thought about it now, it was really that one decision of Julius Root's that had been the starting point of the People's odd alliance, and later friendship, with a human. That initial alliance had been the first step in a chain reaction, which had ultimately saved half the city from the goblin rebellion, saved her life and all of Haven when Opal had framed her, saved the entire eighth fairy family...
Maybe, despite the major's mild manner, he really was more like Julius than she had thought.
This last sentiment was enough to make up Holly's mind. She gave one sharp nod. "Yes sir. Thank you, sir—I will try to be back soon."
Major Evergreen smiled. "Good. If anyone asks, you are on a special assignment from me. There will be no need to share the details with anyone. If the technical advisor asks why you are not where you are supposed to be, you are just going to a normal welcome home celebration, nothing a supportive friend wouldn't do. I take it he may be trusted not to mention anything to Commander Kelp?"
"Yes sir."
At least, she hoped so. She would have to risk it anyway.
"Good. I hope to see you back here within three hours. That should be plenty of time for your human ally to come up with something—at least something better than what we are doing now. Good luck, Captain."
"Thank you, sir," she said again. "I will do my best, sir."
As Holly left through the door, listening to the sound of her boots clunking along the short corridor to the anteroom, a thought that had been needling her for a while now returned to her and she hesitated.
However, she shook her head and redoubled her stride, unsheathing her wings as she stepped out of the cham building, and she took off into the darkness.
Holly flew through the cold night sky toward the manor. Normally she loved flying and relished any chance she got at it, but with the icy winds biting into her skin through the suit, she had a feeling the journey wasn't going to be so pleasant.
But what bit into her even more deeply was her thoughts, which spun in her mind as always, even as she fought endlessly to keep them at bay.
Maybe this is wrong, she thought. Already doubt was clouding her mind and she could feel a hard knot of guilt gnawing at her insides. Holly sighed deeply into her helmet.
"Holly?"
Holly jerked slightly and had to resist the urge to wince. "Hey there, Foaly."
"Um. I'm almost afraid to ask, but what are you doing?"
Holly paused. "Just following orders as usual?" she suggested.
Foaly snorted. "That'll be the day. But seeing as how Major Evergreen has cut off all outside channels connected to your helmet—a breeze for me to override, of course—and hasn't said a word even though you're beyond off-target for this assignment, I'm guessing you two have cooked up some kind of deal."
"Making deals with my commanding officer? Don't be absurd, Foaly."
"What did you promise in exchange for going to the manor?" Foaly asked curiously. "Well, it's probably not that hard to guess. The major's pretty desperate for better methods than what he's got right now. You're going to see a tactical genius, even if his brain isn't quite all there at the moment. Two and two make four."
Holly said nothing for a moment. "That's why I hate geniuses. Too smart for their own good."
She could just imagine Foaly's smug grin from below the earth. However, his voice was serious as he said almost hesitantly, "But you know, Holly—" He paused. "I think I might be with Trouble on this one. Maybe we should leave our Mud Boy out of it this time."
"His Complex has gotten better," said Holly. "Okay, maybe we shouldn't be piling on the snap life-or-death decisions just yet, but something like this wouldn't be too bad for him, surely." Holly frowned slightly, annoyed at the note of uncertainty that had slipped into her tone.
"I'm not talking about his stress levels," answered Foaly. "I'm sure he'd be able to do his usual little meditation thing and handle it just fine. He may be a bit crazy now, but he's getting over it. No, I just think we need to be careful. I know this whole thing's being downplayed so the public won't go into a panic, but we're in a pretty dire situation. If the humans nab those fairies before we do, not only are we all suddenly going to find our pretty faces plastered all over the morning news, it won't exactly be under the best of circumstances. They'd be getting a hold of a bunch of Mud Man-serial killers. Humans are a skittish enough race without that particular twist. Plus, we have no idea if these fairies are acting on their own, or if this is all part of a bigger conspiracy. I think Trouble's right to want to keep information about it as contained as possible until we have a better idea of what's going on."
"You suspect Artemis, too," Holly said flatly. "Please, you don't really think—"
"No, I don't," Foaly said quickly. "Honestly I don't. I just think caution's our best move right now. There could be a lot more going on than we know, and if we rush into things without thinking, this could turn into a grade one disaster. Artemis isn't one hundred percent right in the head now, and—well, I'm not supposed to tell you this, but the bits and pieces of evidence I've been able to gather so far do keep pointing back to Fowl Manor, and—"
"So I'm right," Holly cut in heatedly. "You do think it's all Artemis, just like Trouble."
"No," Foaly said, voice rising. "I think if our Mud Boy is being framed for something, if something happens after you've gone and given him information he wasn't supposed to have, things will be that much worse for the both of you."
Holly was silent. She bit her lip hard behind her visor, trying to think of a counterargument. But Foaly made a fair point. Evergreen had said that it was in Artemis's own best interests to give him the chance to weigh in on the matter, and she had agreed, but maybe that wasn't strictly true.
"This is an emergency," she said finally. "Which means we need to see a quick resolution. Artemis may be the only one who can bring us that."
Foaly sighed. "Holly..."
"He probably already knows about it anyway," Holly continued, talking over him. She paused, then added, "Like another nosy technology geek I know."
Holly could almost see Foaly smile. "I suppose I'll take that as a compliment," he said with a sniff. "Well, just do whatever you please, Captain, as usual. Just don't say I didn't warn you."
"All right, you've done your job then. Now you can go back to your desk with a clear conscience."
"Smart-tongued elf," he muttered. "You don't change, do you?"
"You're one to talk."
They were both quiet a minute, until at last Foaly said, "Well, I'd better go. I've got work coming out my ears with this goblin-demon business. I'm not getting any directives to go and party."
Holly found she was oddly disappointed not to talk longer, despite the energy it took to argue. The tinge of melancholy always hanging about her mood lately often gave her a desire for company. Company was a good distraction. But the last thing she wanted was for Foaly to know that, so all she said was, "Thanks, Foaly. Glad to see how much you appreciate Recon work."
Foaly snorted. "When you're working, I don't have a problem."
"Get lost, centaur. And you can forget the feedback I was going to give you on the new computer interface in our helmets."
"Oh." Foaly was suddenly interested. "How is that, by the way?"
"It's lousy. Is there some reason you keep using Frond's voice for more and more parts of the system? What happened to using yours?"
"Special request from the higher ups. They like Frond. Came with a budget hike, so I thought why not."
Holly made a noise of disgust in the back of her throat. "You sold out."
"Hey, it was no skin off my nose. You're the only officer on the force who doesn't like it."
Holly had no doubt this was true, considering she was the only female in Recon. She wondered if she could make a case that this was a form of discrimination.
Holly opened her mouth to respond but just then Foaly said quickly, "Oops, I really gotta go. Our old friend the commander's calling in to see what I'm up to. See you later, Holly, and good luck."
"Right."
As Foaly severed the connection and Holly was left alone in her head once again, she couldn't help but breathe the smallest of sighs.
Holly tried to keep her eyes on the scenery below her, and her mind on the experience of flying. But today was a strange day, and her usual tactics for repressing the multitude of thoughts that constantly tried to swarm over her mind and suffocate her were refusing to work.
Yesterday Trouble had asked her to try to consider him as something more than a friend. Artemis was gone from Dr. Argon's clinic after months of treatment and was back on the surface again, with no send-off, no ceremony, as though no one cared. Now she was going to see him, to ask him for advice when he was still ill, and all the while someone in the shadows might be trying to set him up.
Holly could honestly say that she had never before felt as she had these last few months. It was almost like her body and mind had grown into two separate entities, each belonging to a different person. Her body fit into the neat mold that was precisely her size and shape, the role her friends and everyone who knew her expected her to play. Her outer self was tough and cavalier and forever confident things would turn out all right.
However, the mind behind that attitude had moved far beyond that. The way her outer self behaved was no more than a series of automatic responses, habits she had built up over years of practice, while her head belonged to someone else that no one, not Trouble, not Foaly, not Artemis, nor even she herself really knew. Her mind belonged to someone consumed with anxiety, who went from day to day trying to escape from the monsters that crept at the back of her mind. Her mind was a perfect stranger to who she was supposed to be, someone who she didn't trust, who might just do something she didn't expect or want.
It was the worry that did it. The worry that dragged on and on without any outlet. It warped things. Made the world dark even when the sun was shining, made her see sinister omens in everything around her even when there was nothing there, made the air she drew in seem stale and thin.
Of course, all of it ultimately stemmed back to the Atlantis Complex. That was her chief source of anxiety—and that was why she spent so much energy trying not to think about it.
Had Holly tried to explain these feelings to one of her friends, they probably would have just grinned, and reminded her how Artemis had beaten the odds so many times before. Foaly, if he didn't make a wisecrack of some kind, would probably tell her she was making a bigger deal out of it than it was, that Artemis was getting better and would continue to get better. Mulch, Juliet, and even Artemis would probably say about the same thing, each in their own way.
But none of them understood. Her anxiety wasn't one simple fear that could be soothed by a one-line encouragement. She was afraid that Artemis might not recover, yes, but that was just one among many of the elaborately woven tangle of pains and concerns surrounding Artemis's disease that kept her up at night. It wasn't one dread that weighed on her, but a multitude of them.
Those few weeks ago, when Foaly had first let drop the decision to send Artemis back home, the first thing she had done was march down to the clinic and demand to know why he was being released so early when the doctor had repeatedly informed her Artemis was far from a full recovery.
Dr. Argon, who was by then more than used to being accosted like this, merely gave a slightly disdainful sniff and replied, "It is delicate, Captain. He has shown much improvement under the drug treatments and other therapy, but, in my considerable experience with the Atlantis Complex, I find that most patients do. However, to be perfectly blunt, your human friend is currently in the stage that patients most often have relapses. The patient's mental condition is precarious, so a single traumatic experience could have devastating effects."
When Holly had next asked in a less than friendly tone why then Artemis was being sent home during such a critical time, and wasn't that about the stupidest thing they could do, Argon had only clucked impatiently. "As I've tried to tell you over and over, Captain, a disease of the mind isn't as simple to address as an ordinary disease. Mental patients often take substantial hits to their self-esteem upon first admittance to a mental institution. You see, the extremity of the symptoms of the illness is generally what precipitates a willingness to undergo that which is uncomfortable or degrading—Artemis Fowl has shown more cooperation with me than I believe any psychiatrist he has spoken to in the past. Unfortunately, often once the dramatic improvements begin to occur, the sense of urgency that inspired the will to make those initial sacrifices is diminished. Consequently, continuing to stay in a mental hospital room may only contribute to that decline in self-esteem, as it begins to establish a new undesirable sense of identity, one associated with mental infirmity."
When Holly tried to get in a word here, Dr. Argon bulldozed right over her. "As I said, Artemis Fowl has shown great improvement. The symptoms are far from eradicated, but he no longer requires constant supervision or the daily regimen of drug treatments and other therapy. Therefore, trust me when I say the best thing for him now is to ease slowly back into a familiar routine of ordinary life. If he begins to slip back, we can always bring him back underground for more treatments, but for now my professional opinion is that home is where he needs to be."
Holly hadn't had anything to say to that, and Dr. Argon had finished by saying, "Of course, Artemis Fowl is a human. So if something unexpected happens which does trigger a relapse, his condition may very well degenerate faster than we would have ever predicted. If he does have such a reaction, we may have no choice but to take the most extreme measure to save him from being out of his wits the rest of his short life. But really, in my opinion, that would actually make things a great deal simpler for us, and ultimately would not be such a great loss."
Not such a great loss.
Holly blinked as she came back to her surroundings, the cold barren landscape moving by far beneath her. She shook her head, and refused to think about that.
She had had many conversations with Dr. Argon just like that one. But they were all the same. All equally useless.
Because even though she had never said so and Dr. Argon probably didn't realize it, all that time she had spent down at the clinic when Artemis had first been admitted, hounding Dr. Argon with questions, at times practically threatening him, what she was looking for was not more information about Artemis's state of mind or about the Atlantis Complex. She didn't need someone to tell her again he was depressed and miserable.
No, what she really wanted was to hear something which would instantly tell her exactly what she herself could do about it.
Back when Holly first started to feel she wasn't getting what she wanted from Dr. Argon, she tried to turn elsewhere. Between the endless nights she spent laying on her futon, staring up at the ceiling and letting her thoughts chase each other around in circles in her head, and the afternoons at work she spent haunted by memories of the deluded Orion and Artemis's number compulsions, at one point, when Holly had been feeling particularly desperate, she had downloaded on her crystal a stupidly huge, incredibly pompous book entitled: A comprehensive compendium of the collected data on the cerebral pathology Atlanti Complexia. It was apparently written by some famous Atlantean psychologist from the last century, and it had more incomprehensible jargon than a stinkworm had ears.
After spending hours trying to decipher small sections, eventually she had been forced to skip ahead to the practical section at the back, which had been added in the recent edition and, being directed at friends and family members of the afflicted, was a little more readable.
However, it did little more for her. The so-called practical section merely made pithy little suggestions like, "Make certain the patient has your unconditional support" and "Gently assure the patient repeatedly of his/her self-worth and personal value." "Do not broach the topic of the subject's guilt; leave that to a professional." Or, Holly's favorite for its simplistic lack of helpfulness: "Be as pleasant as possible at all times."
Pleasant at all times. But too much pleasantness was precisely the problem.
Six months ago, when the Nostremius had deposited them in Haven City, the first thing that Holly and Butler had done was push Artemis down to Dr. Argon's clinic and get him checked in. He wasn't well, and they were determined he would get well as soon as possible, whatever they had to do.
At the time, the fact Artemis would beat this stupid illness seemed like a given. Even though it had disturbed her a little when Artemis mentioned that Butler was not to be staying by his side at the clinic, the first few days in which Holly had gone to see him things had not gone badly. The dark circles under his eyes never faded and he seemed a little nervous and jumpy the entire time, trying to arrange things and talking about omens in numbers, but other than that, he was Artemis.
However, apparently during that time Dr. Argon kept him heavily drugged. But Argon could not keep Artemis in that state forever, and the first day Dr. Argon had laid off on the cocktail of relaxing agents, Holly had walked into Artemis's room and been shocked to find the restraining harness that once held a comatose Opal Koboi dropped down from the ceiling, fastened securely around his chest and under his arms.
Holly had spun around, ready to fly back out of the room and find Argon so she could flay him alive, only to hear Artemis's voice stab her straight through the back. Straight through the heart.
"You've come to gloat, haven't you, Holly Short."
She hadn't been able to bring herself to turn around. "You know I wouldn't do that, Artemis." Her voice had a lightness, a positivity about it that she didn't feel.
"Don't lie to me," he seethed. "I know. You turned Butler against me, and you both brought me here to be imprisoned, so that you might come torment me. I know, every day you think about that night in my basement, the lies about the sodium pentathol, the months of humiliation after I let you go—and then you consider how you might destroy me. You cannot hide your thoughts from me, Captain Short."
Holly wanted to avoid the clinic. She wanted to stay far away from that white room until Artemis was well again. However, she knew mental illness didn't work like that, and Artemis needed all the support he could get.
So that was why she kept going back, day after day without fail. Often he would be in that paranoid mood, angry, suspicious, and ready to blame her for every problem he ever had. Other times she would find him switched over to Orion, and he would start declaring his undying love to her the moment she walked in, followed soon after by an unending string of nonsense punctuated by all the things he didn't like about the real Artemis.
With every visit, she felt her spirit worn down just a little more, and before long she was nearly overcome by a keen desperation to see the old Artemis again. To go back to the easy conversations they had before, the good-natured verbal repartee, the annoying pompous lectures. Things will go back to normal eventually, she told herself over and over. Artemis will go back to normal.
Before long, her silent prayers were answered. A month into Dr. Argon's treatment, the stronger symptoms of the Complex receded dramatically. He was still counting things and still had occasional fits, but he was able to engage in their usual banter, and spoke of any discomfort or unpleasantness concerning the illness in a matter-of-fact, dispassionate tone that was so like him. Two months into the treatment, outbursts of paranoia had almost entirely ceased, and the number five came up in conversation only rarely. Five months in, and often it was hard to tell there was anything wrong with him at all. Now these days, he always seemed to have everything perfectly under control.
And, ironically, that was exactly the problem she faced now. That was what made Holly's insides churn with a sick feeling and made her dread her visits with Artemis these last few weeks almost as much as she had during that first month of torture.
Holly had wanted things to go back to normal. But the fact was that they weren't normal at all. How could they be? He was mentally unwell, sitting trapped in a white room plagued by symptoms of Atlantis Complex. He was only playing a game with her, with everyone, a sick game where they all pretended everything was okay when it wasn't okay.
The moment this fact had dawned on Holly, she tried to take action. They couldn't have Artemis sitting in his hospital room, giving his usual sardonic, trivial answers when anyone ever asked if he was really all right, only to be consumed by nightmares at night and slowly sink into a pit of despair. She had to open the way to talk seriously and honestly.
"Hey, tell me the truth, Arty. Are you okay? I mean really okay? It looks like you haven't been having so much trouble with the symptoms lately, but how are you really feeling these days? You can tell me."
When she had said that, Artemis had regarded her for a moment. Then he had smiled. "I am not completely cured yet, Holly, it is true. And I still find myself somewhat depressed from time to time. But that is all. And in fact, I often find contemplating how the value of my stocks have increased during my incarceration of great consolation."
Holly wanted to believe that. At times she almost did. But then occasionally his eyes would get that pained, desperate look, the look he had when Angeline was dying, and he condemned himself as a liar and a thief. However, no matter how many times she tried to gently push him to tell her something of what he was thinking, the wall would go back up, and he would find some glib comment to make that would feed perfectly into their usual humor-laced conversations. The deception of normalcy would continue.
It was frustrating. It made her angry. Sometimes she just wanted to snap back, "That's a baldfaced lie, Artemis Fowl, and you know it. You've been lying to me. You've been lying to all of us. All this time, you've just been pushing us away and feeling sorry for yourself. Can't you see we want to help you? You can fight this, and you can win, but you've got to let us in. Stop being afraid of what we'll think, and we'll conquer this thing together."
A part of Holly felt with all her being that was exactly what she should say. She should say something that would break through to him, something argumentative, something unpleasant, which would go against what all the experts on the Atlantis Complex would advise. All this hanging back, worrying, and playing along with Artemis's game of skirting around the issue wasn't like her in the slightest.
So why didn't she say something like that? Out of all these complicated fears and thoughts, that was the one thing to Holly that was fairly simple.
Holly's thoughts flickered back to another conversation in Argon's clinic a few months ago, one that had informed so much of her thinking about the Complex, and played again and again in her mind. The conversation had not been with Dr. Argon, but with another human like Artemis, one with just the disposition and experience to be able to guess what Artemis was thinking.
Clearly, part of the reason Artemis acted as he did was that he was indeed afraid. Afraid of showing weakness, afraid of saying something he would regret. And she, Holly, was equally afraid: afraidthat if she pushed too hard, she would break something that she wouldn't be able to fix.
Holly let out the smallest of breathes, and she looked down at the frozen ground far below her again. Her limbs felt stiff and brittle with cold.
We're going to help you somehow, Artemis, she thought. Whether you like it or not.
A/N: Well, we're getting there. (Just not very fast.) Yes, it's another chapter like this. Apparently I'm the master of drawing things out. I just wanted to dwell on the Atlantis Complex for a while, since that part of the story in TAC always fascinated me—we'll dwell some more next chapter too, and then we'll be done, I promise.
So, disclaimer, everything Dr. Argon says (and everything in the Atlantis Complex text) is by no means based in real medical studies. I just went by what made sense to me and collecting (and probably skewing) bits and pieces of things I've heard. And since the Atlantis Complex is a made-up condition, I figured the methods of treating the condition and for what reasons could be made up too.
Ah, the final section of this chapter... I cut things out and rewrote them and rearranged them so many times it about killed me. (It was possibly even more painful than the Holly-apartment-scene in chapter three.) I was having flashbacks to my art history class, where instead of being given one essay prompt question, we were given about five that we had to figure out a way to answer in the course of one essay, while it still all came to a single point... Actually, in writing this fanfiction I've found myself thinking about my past experience persuasive essay writing surprisingly a lot. (I definitely was when I was writing TOP. I kept feeling like I was making an argument for why this way of seeing things was possible, ha.)
Anyway, thank you so much for all your reviews last chapter! Please let me know what you thought, and see you next time. :J
Posted 9/18/14