Disclaimer: I do not own the Artemis Fowl series.

No Flaming Please!

Chapter 3: Forlorn Discovery

The moment Artemis returned he knew that they had been told. The look on Butler's face could easily have scared away a pack of red ants; although, his sheer size alone probably would have played a big role. Foaly stared at him as if he were wearing a women's cocktail dress and lipstick. He slowly edged behind Butler, hoping that his massive size could save him from their stares.

Holly was the only one who didn't look at him like he was male prostitute; instead, she looked aggravated. Blaming her wasn't possible for him; he had kept something from her that needed to be said. He sighed, "You must know."

"Yes," she frowned, unaware of what else there was to say. 'Why him,' she wondered. 'Why me?' She could feel her heart beating against her ribcage like a troll's fist upon the ground. Apart of her was surprised that her ribs did not crumble into a zillion pieces, and fall farther down into the depths of her bodice.

"Holly, I- Are you alright?" She was a goose feather; white to the point that you could see the colors refracting back into the crisp air. This was why he didn't want to say anything, she looked ready to simultaneously combust into a pile of ashes.

The sound of his voice against her eardrum woke her from the trance. She blinked a couple of times, and was surprised to find that he was speaking to her. For the past couple of minutes, she had been swallowed into her own little world. In her world there was no pain. "What was that?"

Like a cougar stalks a deer, he moved silently and catlike. He knew that Holly may be going into shock, it sometimes happened in traumatic situations. 'Why would this be happening now,' he contemplated. 'We have seen far worse.' He didn't think that he had meant enough to her to cause a reaction like this. "Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be," she snapped. Artemis was looking at her as if he was searching for something; it bugged the crap out of her. Punching him seemed to be the best option available at the time, but she couldn't bring herself to raise a fist.

"You're eyes are normal," he sighed, looking at her attentively. "You were showing the symptoms of a human who went into shock."

"Fowl, I'm not a human." She felt every atom of her being heat up, and flares of deep anger erupted from her mouth. Artemis Fowl was the only creature that could ever make her as annoyed as she was; strangely enough though, he was also the only one who could make her as happy as she was. 'I can't believe I just thought that,' she grimaced. 'Artemis Fowl does not provoke anything in me…… other then my last nerve.'

They glared at each other through slanted eyes. If looks could kill, then they both would be lying on the floor in a puddle of blood. Sparks flared from their eyes sockets, springing waves of fireworks into the surrounding air. "I'm sick with a inhuman disease, am I not? I don't see how things can be so different with you."

Sawing back and forth, her teeth began to grind against each other. She was not very angry with the boy genius; she was only aggravated with herself. Swearing that she could hear the crashing of her colliding thoughts, she shook her head in frustration. The only thing she could do was allow her confused emotions to consume her like a giant troll. "The mud people are more susceptible to illness."

He sighed, "I-"

Pain attacked him faster then he could possible imagine, and he slowly eased his body to the floor. Everyone was surrounding him fairly fast, Holly in the front of the pack. It was funny how just a little agony could make people forget anger.

Their faces swam in front of his misty eyesight for a moment, before everything became extremely clear again. He was thankful for the shortness of this attack; he absolutely hated falling to his knees at the simplest twinges. Butler whispered, "Master Fowl."

"Here," she whispered, slowly helping him back to his feet. The pain that she was feeling within her soul could possible be more strenuous then childbirth. All those thoughts that had confused her stopped colliding and began to work together to form a conscious mind.

"I'm alright," he murmured. "Just a little chest pain; concern isn't necessary."

'He should have told me about this,' she thought. 'We could have begun helping him much sooner.' A light trickle of blood flowed from his lips, and tumbled to the floor in crimson raindrops. Seeing him like this was like watching someone slaughter a eagle. "How are we not supposed to be concerned?"

The pained sound of her voice drew everyone's attention. Artemis knew that this was all because of him. If he hadn't built up so much bad fortune, then she wouldn't be in this state. A apology began to form in his brain, and he tried so hard to say the words. This could be the hardest thing he had ever done. "This is just a minor setback."

"A minor setback," she cried. "You're intestines are melting as we speak."

"We've seen worse," he lied. Even if he was faced with five thousand bull trolls, then he still wouldn't be as worried as he was at this moment. "We can-"

"This will just be a incentive to work a little harder," she interrupted. The canine fangs in her mouth looked extremely conspicuous as she said this. Artemis was pretty sure that bearing teeth was a fairy instinct; she always seemed to do this when she got slightly territorial.

He nodded only slightly, tilting his head from side to side like a curious hound. The muscles in his neck were painfully tight, and only loosened when he stretched his neck as a swan would. Even if somebody paid him, he wouldn't give them the benefit of seeing him do something so awkward. "I guarantee that the cure will be found."

"Of course," Holly nodded, putting on a fake mask of sincerity. All she wanted to do was run her heart out, then curl up into a nice mud bath. 'It's strange,' she realized. 'We call humans mud men, but now we bathe in the dirt more then they do.' Mentally, she chuckled to herself. Even thinking about mud baths distracted her from the current situation. Picking up where she left off, she whispered, "I trust you. I'm sure you'll find a cure."

They both knew that this optimism was fake. Her expressions had been completely perfect, as was her words. The only thing that threw off the sentiment was her eyes; they were two tiny chunks of ice throughout her speech. "Agreed."

Now that the most shocking information was out of the way, she turned her attention back to other important matters. The sadness she had felt was beaten away by anger, the viscous bully. "Why didn't you let me know what was going on!?"

The topic change was so sudden and immensely random, that even Artemis was slightly shocked. Trying to piece together a coherent sentence, his mouth tightened into a cartoon-like line. He doubted that any excuse he came up with would be enough to calm her rage. "I didn't want anyone to feel any unnecessary pain."

"Unnecessary?" The growl that erupted from her throat could challenge a clan of lions, and even they would flee in fear. Unfortunately for Mr. Fowl, running away was a impossible feat. Instead, like many times before, he watched her carefully. "This was anything but unnecessary!"

"Holly," he said, making his tone serious. "Please, it couldn't be helped."

She seemed disappointed in him. Every inch of him yearned to say some sort of apology, but his lips would not obey. When the words finally formed at her lips, she had already given him a fairly logical response. "Alright, Artemis."

Her eyes remained fixed on his face for some time. There was nothing frightening about this gaze, it had a almost calming affect on him; however, it did make him wonder about her thoughts. She was a dove at sunrise, incredibly tranquil. "I'm glad that you understand."

Finally, she turned herself away from his face. She hadn't really expected him to apologize; he very rarely showed regret for him actions. The sadness returned again; she almost yearned for the anger to come beat the feeling away. "Bickering will have to wait. There are more important things for us to do."

Though she faked being okay, he knew that she wasn't as alright as she seemed. He used to be a master at putting together play-like acts to fool people, and he could see right through Holly's behavior. Eyes could tell more stories then a library. "I believe that this topic needs further discussion."

"It's fine," she said. Her body was a statue, rigid and stiff. Perceptive as the mastermind could be, she had never suspected that he could see through that. It had been only half act, half real. She had forgiven him for not telling her, but she was still hurt. They had been through a lot, she thought that he could tell her things. "Let's move on."

When their lives were in danger, she was usually so affectionate. It was almost like she was a whole different fairy. Different circumstances brought different reactions; perhaps that was why she had reacted this way. "Fine."

"Foaly," Holly snapped. The centaur looked like he had been shot by a gun. He had obviously been wandering in the depths of his mind, and had not expected her to call out to him so harshly. Realizing that her words were knife sharp, she patted his haunches in a friendly way. "I know that you're worried about your mate, but I really need you to focus."

Artemis remained silent as everyone turned to look at him expectantly. It was him who had self-adopted that role of leader in the group, and they now expected him to do the same. Everything in his brain was on a wild roller coaster ride, unable to dismount.

"Well, Artemis," Butler urged. The typhoon in his mind would not calm down. His thoughts were not even coherent enough to form sentences, let alone say something brilliant. Their eyes were daggers that pierced his body painfully.

There was a mighty growl and stomping of feet; Holly was out of the room in a streak of light. She had behaved as though he had offended her. All he could do was stare at the door like a fifteen-year-old-boy at a Playboy magazine. "What's wrong with her?"

"Let her cool off," Foaly sighed. Women could be totally unpredictable, even the centaur females. This was not the first time he had seen this course of action, but he could tell by the look on Artemis's face that this was something completely new. "So your girlfriend never played this trick on you."

"No," he sighed. They had agreed on everything, so there was nothing to ever fight about. Despite some common belief, a little fighting was necessary to form a quality relationship. Bickering was not pleasant; however, some disputes were essential. 'I can think about psychology books all I want,' he thought. 'They haven't ever helped me with Holly.'

Despite his surprise, Foaly kept his face constant. "Consider yourself lucky."

Artemis was worried about Holly; he wouldn't be able to think until they reached a understanding. There was no feasible explanation that described her behavior, but he assumed, like most females, Holly was expecting him to read her mind. As talented as he was, he never would pull off that trick. "I presume that you have encountered some bickering."

"It's nothing compared to Holly and you," Foaly nickered. The look in Artemis's eyes made the centaur stronger. The fairy had talked about Fowl's eyes, he now understood what she meant. There was something in them that could control thunder.

"I am well aware that we fight extensively," he sighed. "I don't think it can be helped; however, I do believe that a apology is in order."

A nickering Foaly nearly choked on his own spittle. Even though the centaur seemed to think something was incredibly funny, he didn't find any humor in the situation. The part of him that produced emotions seemed to have kicked the bucket. Foaly neighed, "You better not ask for apologies now. Holly's bound to give you a blast with her new Neutrino."

"That wasn't what I meant," he whispered. 'Is it so surprising that I would apologize to her,' he wondered. Everything around him was now numb. As if he had stared straight at Medusa, every inch of his body felt like it had been turned to stone.

Foaly looked at Artemis, his distinctive eyes were very wide. "You're going to apologize? The great Artemis Fowl grovel at Holly Short's feet."

This was a problem he had unintentionally caused, let the consequences be his own. This could possibly be one of the worst day's of his life, and he had a feeling that it was going to get worse. He was thankful for the numbness that consumed him. "I do not believe that this news should be so shocking. This is not the first time I had to plead with her."

"I suppose not," Foaly whinnied. "Good luck. Short looked like she was about to bust a kneecap; I'll be praying to Frond that it isn't yours."

"Thanks for the concern," he said, lazily shrugging his shoulders. They had been through worse fights then this, and every argument usually pulled them closer together. Apologizing was going to be unexceptionally hard; however, he knew that it would be worth it. If he did end up dying in the end, then he wouldn't have this on his conscious. "Holly will have calmed down slightly, I'm sure."

He never waited for Foaly or Butler to answer, and he left the room in a wild dash for freedom. 'I hope Holly hasn't left the building. It wouldn't be wise for me to wander around outside,' he thought. Civilians would not take kindly to seeing a human.

Luckily, she had not left the building. Perched on a chair outside of the door was Holly, sitting in a very bird-like stance. There wasn't a trace of tears on her cheeks, but she did look confused. He could imagine that her face mirrored his own.

"Why did you leave?" Like a giant frog, she leaped off the chair in surprise. His naturally silent feet had worked their magic again.

She no longer appeared angry with him, but merely deeply depressed. Despite the face that he hated seeing her sad, apart of him was glad to distinguish that she cared. He had been afraid that she was completely unfeeling towards him. "I needed space. I'm surprised that you came to look for me, it's not like you."

Apart of him was slightly scarred. 'Have I given everyone this impression,' he wondered. 'I guess she is correct though.' The feelings that had momentarily were back now, feeding at the vase of medulla oblongata. "Actually, I was looking for the restroom. Running into you was not my intention, just sheer fortune."

She found herself smiling, despite how she had felt only moments before. "Sorry, Fowl. We both know that The People have no indoor bathrooms. The pure thought of it disgusts me."

He did not approve of that rule. There was not a think layer of vomit near the front gate, and the maintenance crew was not going to be happy. None of it mattered now, Holly was finally back to acting normal. He shrugged, "I didn't have to go anyway. I feel sorry for your maintenance crew; they're going to have a lot to clean up."

Obviously amused, she wrinkled her nose as if someone held a steaming pile of dung beneath it. "You better be careful," she smirked. "You may build a reputation like Mulch's."

She had just poked fun at a bruise, large and swollen. The disease was not only enveloping his body, it was also eating away at his pride. Hiding his deepened unease, he turned to her and grimaced. "I do believe that my reputation has been damaged and shall not be repaired."

Realizing that he was also experiencing stress, she carefully rested her hand on his shoulder. This wasn't going to be a easy fight to win, but she knew that they could do it. Despite how hopeless everything seemed, she knew that everything would return to normal; at least, that was what she had been telling herself.

"The other's are worried about you. We should probably get back." Even though she followed him like a well trained puppy or a adoring fan, he could tell there was still something wrong. He could read her like a book, just like she could do with him. "There's still something wrong."

"D'avrit," she growled. "Do you always have to be so perceptive?"

"It's a natural gift," he muttered, not at all humored. Like his intelligence, he had received his perceptiveness from his father. "I'm afraid that it's inevitable."

Just like in there past adventures, she found that her heart was beating extremely quickly. This time, however, it was for a completely different reason. Everything was moving to fast for her to handle. She bit her lip, "Fowl, you couldn't possibly be more annoying."

"I know," he smiled. There was a silent pause; whether it was awkward or not, he wasn't be complete sure. Whatever it was that needed to be said was slipping from her plump lips. Like a freshly caught fish, her mouth opened and closed rhythmically.

She finally sighed, "Can you promise me something?"

This caught him by surprise, even though he had already been unsure of what to expect. After all, she had not given him many hints of her reason for unhappiness. It had just existed, unexplainably, like the dark matter that floated throughout the universe. "That depends."

Nodding her head, she began to pace back and forth. She had to admit that she thought that her request was rather stupid and childish, but she couldn't help herself. Even he couldn't answer her question with one hundred percent sureness, despite whatever he said. All she could do was hope that it would be enough to calm her down. "I'm not sure about asking this of you."

"It depends," he repeated. A proposition had to be listened to thoroughly, contemplated and analyzed. You never knew when someone was going to ask you to jump, naked, into a swimming pool of chocolate pudding. This time, though, he doubted that it would be the case. "I very rarely agree to anything without hearing it first."

"Will you promise me that you won't die?" She knew that this was a ridiculous question that no living creature could succumb too, even Artemis Fowl. She knew also, however, that if he told her that he wouldn't die, then her belief would not waver.

He kneeled so he could talk to her face to face. He smiled, placed his hand on her shoulder and said, "I won't die."

Words were such a odd thing. A combination of just a couple of them could soothe a heart or shatter it; that was what made languages so beautiful. Just a single whimper could tell the world everything, as could a single sigh. "Thank you."

Standing back to his full height, he nodded, glad that he could be of assistance. He wouldn't have been more surprised if she had asked him to jump into a pool of pudding, but he was certainly glad that she hadn't. The last time somebody had requested this had led themselves into a world full of unpleasantness. "I'm Artemis Fowl, remember."

She nodded, laughing. "Glad to have you back."

The world tasted of fire and death, of sulfur and acid. Everything was a hazy blur as if he had been crying for days. The only thing he could do to keep himself from falling was to sway back and fourth for long periods of time, and it was beginning to make him queasy.

All around him were fields of nothingness. A giant vacuum had come and sucked up all life forms, and pretty much everything else on the planet. He was the only thing that existed in this fiery hell. Pinching himself, he begged for his body to awake.

"Not again," he moaned. Once again, he was in the hell of this lucid dream. It was pulling him in like a fisherman would reel him in a fish; the head and smells would cook him alive, and the very mouth of this delusion would gobble him up whole. There he would remain, never to be seen again.

The dream was his enemy; it was testing him, teasing him, and pulling him towards that dark ridge of insanity. There was no control in this place. Hoping to exit this hallucination was futile, for it did nothing to thwart the power of its control.

The thing that entrapped him was his own mind, and he knew of its power quite well. It would keep its grip on him for long period of time, never slacking its ability to make everything hell. It was a odd feeling to be afraid of himself.

Every time he shut his eyes this dream drew him in, and during the night he found himself wrestling with sleep. The longer he stayed awake, the less he would have to be entrapped here. If he found himself believing in hell, then this was exactly what his mind would picture.

This dream was of a lucid type, he knew. Lucid dreams allowed the victim to take control of themselves during the dream; however, unlike other dreams of this same status, he was never able to arise on his own accord.

He did whatever he could to wake up, but he only managed to injure himself further. Trying to knock himself out of this place like you would a normal dream didn't work. Eventually, he would find a way to knock himself out of this place.

Silence was something that he didn't usually mind, but this was a terrifying hush; there was no peace within its wordless terror. This silence let you know that know matter what you did, no one was ever going to come to your aid. He was truly alone.

Despite the heat, there were ice crystals dancing in the air. If he reached out to touch them like he had in the past, then they would shatter into a horrifying display of glass shards. He counted the seconds that passed, hoping that he would soon awake.

Ever since he came to the people, three days ago, he had this strange hallucination; although, like every snowflake, no two dreams could be identical. Every dream had to have at least one slight difference. Even if that difference is so miniscule that you had to use a magnifying glass to see it.

"Artemis," he heard Holly say. He took a step forward, and the world of darkness dissolved into a flash of white. This sudden change had also left him in a different position; he was now laying flat on his back in a uncomfortable bed. The bed was so itchy that he could have sworn that someone had put some type of toxin into it.

He, as usual, took the time to look at all the distinctive surroundings around him. The walls were a distinctive off-white with little distinctive pink flowers. The pink flowers disturbed him somehow, even though he had no idea why. The wallpapering made him feel small, insignificant, and unable to assist himself throughout this ordeal.

The most frightening thing in the room, though, was a vase full of blood red roses. With the simple touch of black ribbon, the flowers now looked like a sign of death. These flowers did not look like the sign of love that everyone made them out to be.

A single round, wooden table stood beneath the flowers; a single chair lay perched at his head, making him feel incredibly uncomfortable. It was almost like everything in the room had eyes, and they were staring at him like a big piece of halibut. Spiders crawled up and down his spine.

The doors on the counter were banging on their own accord. He longed for another person to be here with him, so he wouldn't have feel like a single ant trapped under a magnifying glass. Whatever was causing this dream, most likely his fever, had to be removed from his life immediately. He didn't want to be here anymore.

"Artemis," he heard Holly call again. She appeared at the head of the bed, as she always did, with tears streaming down her face. She was a broken water picket, and no one could fix her; not even a man with the mightiest tool belt in the world.

There was nothing he could do. Like a paralyzed child, he remained rooted in place. He was certainly unable to stop her tears, and he almost started to whimper himself. Everything in his mind was being stretching itself into oblivion. Readying himself for a fall, he was on the edge of a cliff teetering until he broke down.

Every breath seemed to get quicker and quicker as if he had been sprinting for hours. Hoping that he would become calmer, he began to count the pink flowers on the wall. If he counted slowly, then there would be enough to occupy him for hours.

He could hear Holly's softly sobbing. It broke his heart to completely ignore her troubled emotions, but this was only a dream. He told himself this over and over, hoping that the guilt would disappear with his words. The guilt did not decrease but increase as each second grew longer and longer.

Out of nowhere, her hand darted over and grabbed his own. He desperately yearned to feel the warmth of her hands over his own, but her hands were like clouds of air; he probably wouldn't have felt anything if she punched him. He heard her whisper, "Artemis."

Despite how close there faces were, he tried to stare at the ceiling instead. The ceiling held no confusion, other then the yellow, crusty spot in the corner. This was of no matter to him. Compared to everything that was happening to him, mustard stains on the ceiling seemed obsolete.

She was leaning closer to him now; she was so close that her breath was cool against his cheek. The ceiling was losing its interesting factors, but he still stared at it in desperation. 'I would give anything to disappear,' he thought. 'I want to be somewhere else.'

"Holly," he whispered, finally giving in. Like in his past dreams, she completely ignored him. Her eyes were locked on his the whole time, it was odd that she wouldn't respond. Still, he found himself desperately trying to reach her in anyway possible.

Finally, she leaned down so far that they were near touching. There was only slight hesitation as she, very slowly, brushed her lips against his own. He couldn't feel the touch at all Still though, the kiss still brought shock down his stomach and spine. This was why he could never tell Holly of this dream; she would never be able to handle the though of kissing him.

Like blue-raspberry Kool-Aid, her face would change pigments. Tumbling down to her knees, she gave him a look that screamed 'help me.' There she would lie for a seemingly large amount of time on the white tiling, while he begged her to get up.

"Holly," he squeaked. Every time he saw this, he wanted to pull her to her feet; however, it was as if he had seen Medusa. There would be no feeling in his statue-like bodice, as he stared, helplessly, at her lying on the floor. 'I would given anything … Just let me help her.'

The horrifying silence returned, but the feeling in his body did not. All he was left to do was stare, openmouthed, at the scene that hurt him more then 1000 needles. Deep down, he knew that she was dying because of him, and he could do nothing to help. He was such a fool.

Suddenly, as usual, he became Holly. Up above him in the bed of off-white hospital bed sheets, he would stare at himself. If you ever truly looked at yourself, then you would understand the horror of this moment. It was almost like looking into the eyes of a monster.

He was laughing, his two differently color gemstones shining above him. The Artemis in the bed wrapped his bony fingers around his wrist, pulling him upwards to him. It was there that they remained for sometime. Neither of them spoke a word, they just remained transfigured in a world of eerie quiet.

The Artemis in the bed smiled down at him; it wasn't a friendly smile, but the one he used when something incredibly awful had just been accomplished. He hadn't used that smile in years. With a hiss more sinister then ever before, his other self whispered in his ear, "You broke your promise."

Authors Note:

Happy Thanksgiving! I'm sorry if the dream got a little confusing, I did my best to make things clear! Thanks for reading.

Cheers!

Ravenmasteroftele