A/N: Hey there! Well then, as far as AF fanfiction goes, this story is probably going to seem a little unusual, so I'm going to start things off with a bit of explanation.

Firstly, this is not a new story set after/between the books, or an AU, but a parallel. That is, this is The Time Paradox, the exact same story and events, but retold exclusively from Holly's point of view. When I finished reading the book for the first time, I was left with a lot of questions, especially concerning Holly's motivations for why she did what she did, both early on and at the end. (I must say, unlike most, I was more thrilled than frustrated with the mystery Colfer left, and those things not fully explained are still part of why The Time Paradox is my favorite of the series.)

Given that I was planning to write a post-TAC fanfiction where Holly's motivations and thoughts surrounding that certain episode were going to play a key role, I wanted to understand Holly as a character and know what would be the most likely explanation for what she was thinking at each point in the book. I also had vague plans for a one or two-chapter flashback, where Holly contemplates those events of TTP that we only saw from Artemis's point of view in the original. (Which I eventually changed my mind about.) At one point, I ended up writing something similar to what I envisioned for that kind of chapter, a heavily summarized version of the first half of the book with a few key scenes. And from there, the seed for this fanfiction was born.

Trying to rewrite the entire text of The Time Paradox was quite an experience for me, and even now I'm still very much in the process of aggressively refining my view of Holly as a character, and my writing style. Thanks for clicking on this story, and I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed working on it. [Author's note, June 2014.]

Chapter 1: Post-Time-Travel Displacement

The apartment complex Holly had lived in for nearly two decades was not known for its high-class living standards. Sometimes the lights failed or the power flickered, which had caused consternation more than once among adolescents incessantly planted in front of their game boxes, and among middle-aged fairies with a soft spot for certain daytime dramas. The rooms were cramped, even for fairies, and the walls were so thin that Holly had been forced to endure countless evenings listening to overenthusiastic game show hosts and gushing soap operas blaring from neighbors' telescreens. However, that morning all was quiet, as her usual neighbors had all gone off to work.

Holly lay relaxing on her futon in her bedroom, staring at the dust motes under her dresser.

Miraculously, this room and her entire rickety old apartment were precisely the same as she remembered them. When she had first walked in, the futon had been in the same place, the old nutribars still in their packages in the cupboard, and even old laundry lying untouched in the hamper.

This complete lack of change was made all the more astounding by the fact Haven had long-since been suffering an overpopulation problem. Ordinarily there was never any end to fairies clambering to fill a vacancy whenever one opened up, and Holly had not paid rent in three years. But she suspected Foaly might have had something to do with it. When she had first come back from Hybras and asked him where she should ought to stay, he had casually waved a hand and told her she would be fine going back to her old place. She had meant to ask him about it, but she hadn't seen him since then.

It really is all the same, she mused, eyes still fixed on the floor beneath her dresser. Except for the dust motes.

Holly rolled onto her back, forcing herself to return her attention to what she had been trying to do all afternoon. Gazing up at the small screen of the hand-held communicator, she rapidly input a string of Gnommish.

Hey there, Mulch. I heard the agency's been doing great. (Doodah Day? Seriously? Hasn't he gone insane yet?) Mind if I stop by sometime? And before you ask, yes, I might pick up something to eat on the way if you agree to behave yourself and keep the ego-tripping to a minimum.

Trubs, or should I say Commander Kelp now, congrats on the promotion. Better you than Sool, I say. I've been out of it for awhile, so when you get time, what do you say to grabbing a sim coffee somewhere and catching up?

Foaly! Honestly centaur, how did you manage to forget to mention you got married while I was gone? I'll drop by the operations booth and you can tell me all about it. And all those new breakthrough inventions you've probably been up to while I was away.

Each time Holly tapped in the words, she would sit for a minute, staring at them, before she reached over with her thumb and depressed the backspace key, and held it until the message was cleared. She had yet to send a single thing.

Sighing, Holly let the hand holding the device fall back against the futon cover, and her eyes returned to the dust motes once again.

"Just send something already," she said. "Just hit the button, Short. It's not that hard."

However, no matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn't. Whenever her finger wandered trembling toward the key, she would picture Mulch sitting at the detective headquarters with Doodah, or Foaly reclining at home with Caballine. "Oh, I almost forgot, Holly's back from Limbo, isn't she?" she could hear them saying breezily. "Wow, listen to this. She must really be feeling like the odd man out—she's practically begging to let her come see us."

Holly shuddered at the thought, and tried very hard to better rearrange her wording. However, no matter what she said, she would look at the words again and find herself wrinkling her nose with disgust. Pathetic. Desperate.

Why, she wondered, did it always have to sound like she was trying just a little too hard to sound nonchalant. As though she couldn't stand to be alone, and a casual meeting might turn into a full-on shrink session about how oh-so-terrible it was to leave the world and come back to find three years had gone by, and all your friends had completely moved on with their lives.

Holly's brow furrowed. No, she certainly couldn't have them thinking that.

She wondered what she ought to be doing then. Try to be patient, she supposed. Foaly and Trouble were now working to get her reinstated with the LEP as a Recon operative; Section Eight no longer had much use for her services, given that the necessity to deal with Artemis Fowl was over. Still, she wished she could go see them, see how it was coming along. She had to do something or she'd go crazy. Or she could stop by the agency. Mulch was probably just waiting for the opportunity to rub her nose in the fact that he was doing so much better now than it had been when she was there. She'd almost gotten up and gone a half dozen times, but then she'd think of those awkward, slightly pitying expressions, and she'd stay where she was.

Holly's arm laid on the futon, stretched away from her, the communicator in her hand shifting in and out of focus as her eyes moved from it to the dust bunnies just beyond the tiny glowing screen and back again.

What does it matter what they think anyway? she asked herself for about the hundredth time. So what if they all get into their heads that this missing-three-years thing's made you insecure, or desperate for a bit of interaction like the old days? It's not like you've ever really cared what they thought before.

She answered herself the same way she had the other hundred times.

The problem isn't what they think. The problem is that it's true, and you don't want to admit it.

Holly got up and went to the dresser to have a look at herself in the mirror mounted on top. She set her communicator aside on the worn, cheap wood surface, before she let her eyes shift to stare at the fairy in front of her dispassionately.

Dark patches hung beneath her now weirdly colored eyes, and her hair was still messed up from a restless sleep the night before, where a bloodthirsty Abbott had stabbed her in the heart and she had seen her own obituary in the fairy virtual newspaper the next day, where she had discovered her life had been of so little consequence that they somehow messed up her name, and listed her as 'Polly Little.' The edges of her eyelashes were flecked with sleep gum, and the loose T-shirt and shorts that served as her pajamas were severely rumpled. Holly had to admit, this person didn't really look much like a captain of the LEP. More like a backward college freshman in her first week after pulling an all-nighter.

"Confidence," she told the fairy in the mirror. "Confidence." She glared at herself for a long moment, then sighed deeply and slumped.

It would be nice, she thought, not to care what anyone else thought. Like Mulch, or Nº1. Just be happy, or angry, or depressed, or whatever, and not be ashamed of it. As it was, she never seemed able to find someone to talk to when she needed it most.

Holly shook her head, trying to shake out the thoughts, but was momentarily distracted as, just then, there was a beep on Holly's communicator as a message came through.

She sighed again. That would probably be some LEP drone, informing her in as few words as possible when she would be going back to work. It could be Trouble or Foaly, not that they would be able to stay on the line more than ten seconds, both being in such high demand at the LEP all the time. But, she supposed, at least finding out she had her old job back would relieve her of at least one stress, and give her something else to think about.

However, as Holly picked up the communicator, she saw the ID on the screen didn't read from the LEP, or even one of her fellow LEP comrades.

Holly's thumb moved automatically to open the text, labeled with a green icon indicating the communication was of a social nature, as per the system the two of them had jointly constructed.

Contact from a human. Well, she thought, fighting the smile she felt slowly spread across her face. It's better than nothing.

A/N: And that's it for chapter 1. I've never been quite happy with these opening chapters, so I've continued to mess around with them since I first put them up in 2011. Looking over this again in June 2014, I made the executive decision to scrap the last two scenes of the newest version of chapter 1, which I decided were bogging things down and didn't contribute anything of vital importance. (Even though parts of them may possibly be incorporated elsewhere, they're gone for good. I don't think anyone will miss them.)

Sometimes I think endlessly reworking your old writing can get where it's overkill, but I also think it can give valuable insight into where you were in terms of your writing a long time ago, where you are now, and how far you still want to go.

So yeah, I'd love to hear any thoughts you have or initial impressions. Please leave a comment and make my day! (:

Originally posted 9/20/11, Reposted 3/12/12, reposted again 9/30/14