A Necessary Darkness Chapter 2: The Unnecessary Hazards of Emotion, an artemis fowl fanfic

I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed and followed/favorited this story. You guys make it worth it. I'd also like to inform everyone that if you would like chapter 3 to be posted by next Friday I'm gonna need at least 10 reviews. So basically what I'm saying is, if I have at least 10 reviews per chapter then you won't ever have to wait more than one week for an update. I'd make the update time shorter but my chapters tend to be pretty long. Sound fair?

Dewind Dolly: And you shall have more! Thanks for being my first ever review XD

Archadian07: HERE HERE HERE is the next chapter! Your comment made me smile =] Thank

you!

Sexxicosmologist: Thank you! And yes, exactly. I always had the feeling that Artemis Sr. and Angeline were completely self absorbed and oblivious to Arty.

Amywxue: I never thought Artemis would do that either and I appreciate your suggestion. You'll be happy with the upcoming chapters then because I completely agree and there will be a sizable scene where Butler and Arty have their father-son moment.

Luminia Aravis: I'm flattered, thank you so much!

SkullduggaryFowl: I'm not opposed to a little harsh criticism now and then but only if it's intelligent and well informed.

ANYWHO...

Onwards towards the story! Hizzah!

Artemis knew that what he was doing was juvenile and irresponsible, he also knew that it wasn't fair to Butler. The overworked bodyguard was probably having a stroke right about now. Honestly, it was an impulse decision, he had just desperately wanted to get as far away from his mother and from Fowl Manor as possible. Impulsive, though, was not a word that anyone would use to describe Artemis Fowl and he knew that Butler would pick up on the uncharacteristically stupid move he had made right away. Butler had been by his side since the day he was born and beside the fact that he was his caretaker and protector, he was the closest thing the boy had to a father. Artemis valued his privacy and trusted very few people with his personal thoughts and feelings, in fact, he preferred not to form such feelings if it were possible as they would only serve to distract him. Artemis was not looking forward to returning to the manor, Butler knew him better than anyone and he had a way of getting Artemis to 'spill his guts', as is the term.

He had taken the Cessna, which had not been used for the past several years. It was a small, almost clunky plane. It's interior was luxurious of course but plainer and much more condensed than the Lear Jet. He had ascended without problem and was now flying lazily above Dublin. Artemis licked his lips and tasted copper, he grimaced and attempted to wipe the dried blood from them with the palm of his band. He could feel his bottom lip swelling where he'd been hit.

He allowed his mind to wander, he needed to decompress before he could face anyone. For once his mind didn't move straight to science or art or any one of his various projects that usually occupied his thoughts. Instead he thought about the first time he had ever flown the Cessna alone. He had been nine years old and he'd needed a booster seat. This time he didn't need any assistance in reaching the controls, he had grown significantly since then. He would be twelve in six short months.

And no closer to finding Father or reinstating the family fortune than I was the day he disappeared.

He knew that if his father could see him now, no closer to reaching his goals and wasting precious time attempting to avoid his problems, he would have his son locked in his study for the rest of the night for a little father-son chat. Artemis shuddered at the thought, and not many things could make the formidable heir shudder.

Remembering those nights after so long made it all feel like a dream, like none of it ever happened. Even though he often dreaded being called into his father's study a small part of him looked forward to it. It was the only time Artemis ever really got to spend alone with his father, it was like going to church for some one who is passionate about God but every time they went the Pastor was preaching hellfire. When his father locked that door not even Butler was allowed in and Artemis was sworn to secrecy. His father even disabled the surveillance, much to Butler's annoyance.

Sometimes his father would lecture him about various topics he considered vital to his son's knowledge of finances and criminality. And sometimes the learning experiences or "demonstrations" were a little more hands on.

The lectures, Artemis could tolerate, he even enjoyed them most of the time. But sometimes they left him confused and forlorn, he thought back to a specific conversation he'd had with his father.

I was only six years of age, It was the first time he ever allowed me into his study. I had been extremely excited but I tried to hide it so Father would think I was mature enough to be given thisprivilege. I knew that if he could see that I was distracted by my own eagerness to please him, he would dismiss me and who knows how long it would take for him to allow me to spend alone time with him in his study again. I stood ram rod still, I tried to make my face match his exactly. I stood in front of the fireplace, a little to the left of his chair so that he wouldn't have to turn his head to talk to me. He sat down and it was quiet for several minutes save for the ticking of the antique clock, he was considering his words. I was almost content with this alone, as long as he allowed me to be close to him we could stay there in silence all night if that was what he intended. But finally he spoke.

"Artemis, there are certain duties that a Father has an obligation to fulfill in terms of his son, to ensure that he grows into the man that he is meant to be. I believe that many fathers do not fulfill this obligation to the best of their ability. First and foremost I believe honesty plays an important part in a young child's development, I see too many fathers treating their son's as delicately as possible while the world around them is anything but." My father curled his lip at the thought. "I am a practical man...and I see the world as it truly is, not for what I would like to think it is." He paused for a moment, I assume to allow what he had said to sink in, which was unnecessary. I soaked up every word he ever said to me or around me the moment it left his mouth.

I nodded to assure him that I understood, he continued.

"You're special Artemis, not just because you are a Fowl, but because you possess a very high level of intelligence. This is your God given head start in life, knowledge is almost as powerful as gold my son. Almost." A flicker of a smile passed over his lips. "Though like anyone with a natural talent it needs to be honed. Like a fighter trains to build muscle and reflex, a thinker must train to acquire knowledge, gain insight but most importantly to comprehend one's enemies. Like the fighter, if a mistake is made, it could prove fatal." He rose from his seat and walked slowly to the window overlooking the gardens. "Any fool can know, the point is to understand." I recognized the quote as Einstein's. "This is why you must concentrate solely on this venture, it will take years of discipline. Being a genius merely makes you clever, it is discipline that makes you invincible. You must never let your guard down, you must think ten steps ahead of your opponent at all times."

He turned to face me again, a hint of pride falling across his features. I stood even straighter, if that was possible.

"No great victories are won without sacrifice. This is mainly what I brought you here to discuss with me today. I'm sure at your age it seems only natural to focus on making friends and all that childish nonsense. But you must remember that those other boys at school are not even close to you in terms of mental capacity. More than likely they will become jealous and even spiteful, it may not seem like it now but it will happen. It's best to keep isolated from them, let them know that you are superior now so they don't have time to underestimate you."

I faltered a bit at hearing this, I had already made a few friends at St. Bartleby's over the last semester and they didn't seem like a threat to my future. He caught the break in my facade.

"They will drag you down, Artemis. I assumed you were smart enough to see that by now. Perhaps I was mistaken, perhaps you are not mature enough to accept the full weight of your own responsibilities." He was looking down his nose at me, all previous pride had vanished from his features. The shift made me feel panicky, I felt like crying but froze the feeling before it became obvious. I needed to make him believe that I understood. And I did, he was right after all. Wasn't he?

I finally spoke, my voice sounded different and far away.

"Of course father, I expected as much myself. How can one rise to greatness flanked by ordinary minds? If they have nothing to contribute then logically they can only serve as a hindrance. Sacrifice is necessary to obtain one's goals and I harbor no feelings of attachment towards any of my peers. It will not be an issue for me to sever connection completely to anyone who might have assumed otherwise."

This seemed to please him enough for the harsh look of contempt to slip from his features.

"That's my boy" he said.

That's one thing I do not miss in the least. Thought Artemis. My Father's love was entirely conditional.

An urgent sounding alarm jerked him from his thoughts. He looked down, searching for the source. For a moment he thought that maybe due to the altitude he was hallucinating, there was no way he could have been stupid enough to take off in an airplane with so little fuel. In his flustered state and emotional instability he had forgotten to check the gauge, assuming instead that it was at least half way full. He could have sworn he'd filled the tank about a month ago when had replaced the old, outdated engine with a new model that was more efficient and a great deal quieter. He had done this in case of an emergency, so if they had needed to escape the manor grounds using the Cessna their take off would be almost undetectable unless you were physically present for it. Yet the tank was below empty on the small red scale. This was exactly the kind of foolish behavior his father had warned him about, the unnecessary hazards of emotion was another point his father had drilled into his head.

Mentally berating himself, he quickly calculated the amount of time it would take for him to return to the Manor grounds. At least thirty minutes and that's if he broke the sound barrier, which was not what this plane was built for and he also didn't have any intention of drawing attention to himself. If government officials pursued him and realized an eleven year old boy was flying the Cessna, they would have to investigate his home and certainly deem Angeline an unfit parent. With no father in sight and because Butler had no documented legal standings as a parental guardian, he'd be turned over to the state. And none of that would get him any closer to finding his father. He shook himself. Time to concentrate on the present. What are the facts?

He had a little over eight minutes before the engines seized and he plummeted from the sky like a meteorite. Luckily, he was not currently above any cities or human inhabited areas, if you could consider that luck in his situation. Below him, miles of dense forest surrounded by bodies of water on two sides. He'd have to try to find a clearing in the wooded area, the air craft was not equipped to land in the water and would sink like the heap of metal it was. If he could find a large enough break in the trees then he may be able to land without being impaled.

He gained a bit of altitude to get a better overall look at the forest. After about twenty three miles he began to panic somewhat. There wasn't a single break in the dense green canopy and if he didn't find one in three minutes he was going to land with or without his consent. He desperately wished Butler was there. He couldn't stop the plane from falling out of the sky but his presence would be enough to spur Artemis' confidence and stave off his mounting panic. Not to mention the fact that the meticulous body guard would have definitely noticed the lack of fuel the moment he boarded.

If I survive this he's going to kill me.

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Butler was going to kill Artemis.

Why does that boy feel the need to make my job way more difficult than it needs to be? Why couldn't he just stay put? Don't leave the manor grounds, don't play with explosive chemicals and don't taunt billionaire crime lords via your computer. Simple rules he just could not follow despite his genius.

Butler quickly shook the frustrating thoughts from his mind, Plenty of time to kill my charge as soon as he is safe.

In the ten minutes it had taken for him to settle Mrs. Fowl into her room and inform Juliet to keep an eye on her, his charge had disappeared.Butler had searched every possible place his charge could have gone, including the west wing of the manor, where Artemis Sr. and Angeline's master bedroom was, which had practically been shut down since Artemis Sr. had "gone missing", as his charge would like to put it. Butler would never tell Artemis but he was pretty sure that if the Major hadn't survived the explosion then neither had the boy's father. Though he studiously aided Artemis in setting up monitoring equipment in case news of the man miraculously turned up, if only to ease his charge's mind. Some times he wished that the remains of Artemis Sr. would be washed ashore just to give the man's son some closure, so the endless nights of searching and plotting could stop and Artemis could finally grieve. He could at least do that much for the boy.

After exhausting what seemed like every option, the manservant (maid, chef, gardener, protector and pretty much parent), remembered one last possible place his charge could have gone. He remembered that Artemis had spent some time repairing the Cessna, about a month ago. It was unlikely that he was there but Butler had looked every where else and was about to get in the Bentley and tear off down the road, he figured he'd better make sure before he took off.

The Cessna was stowed in a large gray ramshackle garage that looked out of place next to the sophisticated manor. It was further back towards where the Fowl estate became untamed forest. The plane was hardly ever used and Butler would have liked to scrap the safety hazard for a more suitable air craft but Artemis Sr. was rather fond of it, as it had been in the family for two decades and it was the first plane he had ever flown.

Butler jogged briskly up the hill, stepping carefully around a few of the estate's albino peacocks that had managed to escape their enclosure once again, and rounded to the front of the garage, ready to wrench the rusted doors open, certain that the Cessna was there...but just in case.

He did no such thing, the doors were wide open and the plane was gone. His heart sank into his shoes. That plane was a metal death trap and his eleven year old charge was piloting it with practically no fuel to speak of. He knew this little fact because he had siphoned most of the fuel from that plane to put into the Lear Jet, which was used on almost a weekly basis. He'd been doing things like that ever since the Fowl's fortune had dwindled and restrictions needed to be made, fuel was expensive and they needed the jet.

Butler wondered how he hadn't heard the plane start up or take off. He couldn't believe he'd allowed himself to become distracted, he should have had Juliet deal with Mrs. Fowl. If Madame Ko ever caught wind of this she'd fly to Ireland, rip his Blue Diamond Tattoo right off his shoulder, set it on fire and make him clean up the ashes using knitting needles. This thought, of course, was only a distraction from the current situation, which was grave. How was he supposed to do his job if Artemis insisted on doing things like taking off in an ancient metal contraption with equipment that was shotty at best...secretly.

Highest I.Q in Europe my arse.

Butler hit speed dial for Artemis' cell phone, to which Butler was the only person in the world that had the number, it rung five times. No answer. He tried a second time. Again no answer. Previous to this event there have only been two times that Artemis had not picked up his phone on at least the second ring. Once, when his charge had managed to drop his phone in the toilet at St. Bartleby's upon attempting to answer it and use the facilities at the same time and once when Butler had accidentally butt dialed Artemis while he was enjoying a rendition of The Fairy-Queen, one of the boy's favorite operas, at Teatro degli Arcimboldi in Milan. This had warranted an annoyed glare from his charge as Butler had, of course, been seated directly next to him.

The fact that Artemis had not answered his phone meant that he was either too busy trying not to plummet to earth to pick up or he had left it in the manor. Both possibilities were unfavorable in the least and before Butler could face the fact that this situation was largely out of his hands, something that was happening more and more as it turned out, a burst of static sounded from the back of the rusty shed. He quickly stepped into the darkness and made his way to a large and out dated radio transmitter, undoubtedly the source of the static, surprised that it was still in working condition. Luckily he had some experience with older forms of emergency communications and fine tuned the wave lengths to what he hoped was the Cessna's frequency. He could not broadcast a message to Artemis because by the looks of the radio, various wires and attachments had been chewed through over the years by rodents but it seemed that it could at least receive a signal. Butler loomed over the heap of rusted metal, his only connection to Artemis, hoping that the burst of static was more than a malfunction. He desperately wanted to sprint back to the Manor and ascend to the roof of the south wing where there was a Sikorsky helicopter waiting for him but he stood his ground. He didn't want to risk missing the information he was sure Artemis was attempting to relay to him. There was a much better radio in the helicopter but by then it may be too late to hear the message.

Thirty long seconds passed. Then another loud burst of static. A familiar voice wracked with uncharacteristic tremors filtered through the grating friction of electricity: Butler...Emergency lan *static*Fifty seven klicks* static * Dublin Bay.

Silence.

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Okay so if you want chapter 3 posted by Friday then I need at least 10 reviews. I think that's a

solid exchange. Also, remember that if you have any suggestions for this story don't hesitate to let me know, I can't promise anything but I will consider each one and if it fits the story well then I'll write it.

P.S: Please let me know if you spot any corrections that I need to make!