Disclaimer: I do not own the Artemis Fowl series.
No Flaming Please!
Chapter 1: Expect the Unexpected.
Artemis Fowl laid his head down on his arms. This was the fifth day the Fowl's fortress of immunity had forsaken him, and he felt incredibly ill. He could hardly arouse himself enough to lift his head when someone knocked at his door. "Dinner, sir."
The three years that passed during the time warp had changed Fowl Manor, many more hired servants now scurried through the grounds. It was mostly because of the twins, it was hard to keep track of two young genius's in a mansion as big as the Fowl's. He sometimes enjoyed the extra service, but this man happened to be particularly annoying. "None tonight. Tell mother that I am feeling ill."
"I'll be doing that, sir." There was a shuffle behind the door as the servant went to deliver his message. As quickly as his aching body would allow, he slowly attempted to do some research. He had many medical books committed to memory, but none of them fitted this diseases description. It obviously had yet to harm the world of humans.
To most mud men the fairy web was completely unreachable, but he was not most mud men. Perhaps, he mused, the fairy people had given him a disease that his human body was not used to. That very dilemma had happened to many societies throughout history, so it could be a major possibility here.
The computer spat out information faster then dirt comes out a dwarf's bum flap. Every single sight came up a dead end, it was like this illness did not exist. He had to have gotten the disease from somewhere, and he hadn't visited anywhere unethical for quite some time. Diseases didn't just spring up from nowhere.
His stomach had not stopped aching for days, and nausea came and went quickly. For the past couple of days he had been covered by strange blue splotches that were in the exact same shape as a liver. Artemis didn't need a doctor. If he couldn't figure something out, then nobody could.
A few small sparks danced down his arm, but they weren't able to help his cause. For the past couple of days he experimented with numerous antidotes, but they were all failures. The internal bleeding he was experiencing was intense. If he couldn't find a cure, he would eventually bleed himself to death.
If he wanted to think of a solution, it was going to take long hours of meditation. He wandered over to the door, leaning against the doorjamb. He was going to have to come out eventually to get food. Having food brought up to him was getting old, and his parents would eventually force him to see them. They did care about him, after all.
Heavy footsteps thudded down the hall towards his door. The footsteps belonged to his bodyguard and friend, Butler. The footsteps were unusually quiet for a person of Butler's size, but that was because he had years of training. You wouldn't last very long as a bodyguard, if you sounded like a herd of stampeding elephants.
A light tapping resounded across the room as Butler knocked politely. He knew that his bodyguard had been worried about him. It wasn't like he could blame his rather muscular friend, he had not left his room in several days. "What is it, old friend?"
"Artemis you really should come down, your parents are concerned." He frowned at the tingle of guilt within his stomach. This disease was new to him, he hardly knew anything about it. If the illness could be caught by others, then his family would be in dire trouble. The twins would be especially susceptible to a disease such as this, and it could easily erase their names from the board of life. Even if they did not realize it, he was better off from behind closed doors.
This was one of those times when he was grateful for his fellow manservant's trust. Sometimes things were just better left unsaid. This, he believed, was one of those times. His family's worry would be tripled if they knew that about this incurable ailment. For a he knew, he could be dead tomorrow. "Trust me," he wheezed. "This is for the better."
His massive friend sighed from behind the door. It hurt him to know that he was causing Butler so much pain and unhappiness. To himself, he silently cursed his new array of emotions that had turned him into such a softie. Only a few years ago, his family's emotions and opinions would not have affected him in the slightest.
Changing from hard to soft had not been a easy transition to make, but yet it happened without him hardly even realizing that. Holly Short had changed him more then she would ever know, and he had no intention of letting her know how much she had affected his life. He mentally cursed himself again for letting his thoughts get so emotional, it just wasn't his style.
"Very well," Butler said. He heard the footsteps trail away, stop, then come marching back to his door again. Artemis already knew what his friend wanted to say to him. In his opinion, it was a pretty obvious scenario to measure out.
"Is there anything else," he asked. The pain in his stomach was very strong again; it was almost like a horse had given him a well placed kick in his abdomen. Slowly, he slumped his body down to his knees. This was why he rarely got out of bed since the sickness struck; the stomach pains didn't come often, but it brought him crashing to the floor when they did.
Butler shuffled his feet from behind the door again. Restlessness was one of the top signs of being nervous about something. He could make out the distinct huffing of his bodyguard's breathing, which was slightly faster then normal. By the sounds of his friend's restless feet and rushed breathing, he could tell that Butler was slightly nervous. "Yes, Artemis."
This was the worst pain attack he had experienced yet. During his last episode, he had measured his bodies organs. The convulsions seemed to be controlled by some nonsexist force as if a great wizard was commanding the illness from afar. The water he had drank thirty minutes earlier threatened to explode from his lips.
"I know that I'm an employee, but if you ever want to talk I'll be here." It was just as he expected. Artemis trusted Butler on a deep level. If he ever needed to say something, he would not be afraid to ask him. He deeply appreciated having a friend like Butler around; although, he never bothered to say it.
When he tried to force his vomit down his throat, the words tumbled down with the partially digested pieces. He knew what he wanted to say, but he couldn't find the words to say it. Artemis Fowl was just not cut out for emotional things. Finding friends had taken him 13 years, and it was taking him even longer to figure out what to say to them. "Will that be all?"
He practically self mutilated himself after that sentence. That wasn't the correct choice of action, and he knew it. That's what he liked about knowledge, most of the time the correct answer could be found within the text. When it came to talking to friends; however, most of the information came from the heart. He found friendship more difficult then quantum physics.
"Yes." Butler didn't sound upset. He figured that his friend understood what he had meant, even though it had come out all wrong. Being around Artemis for twenty years, and not knowing that he had trouble showing affection and emotions was near impossible.
He was not able to hold the vomit down anymore. It came shooting out of his mouth like a torpedo flailing towards a enemy. The floor was completely drenched by his accidental throw up. He was thankful that not even his mother had been there to see his little mishap. If even his parents saw what just happened, it would ruin his image.
Blood curled among the layer of stomach acid that pooled in his stomach acid. Everyday the amount of red among his vomit had increased, and everyday he felt a little bit sicker. If he didn't find the cure before he was permanently bed ridden, then he would soon meet his maker. He trusted no one else to find a cure, only himself.
With a angry sigh, he slowly eased himself out of the vomit. The aching his stomach no longer bothered him; although, his hunger now did. He was having a bad day, and he definitely didn't want to spend the rest of the afternoon mopping up his own stomach acid. The housekeeper could easily mop up his mistake, but he couldn't allow anyone else to get ill.
His cell phone twittered pathetically as it played the tune from a famous opera. It was probably Minerva again, asking why he hadn't called. It wasn't like he didn't want to talk to her, but he was to sick to want to discuss everything. There was also another reason why he did not call.
She was just to similar to him. When they were first together he liked being with someone who shared his opinions, but that was the problem; they just seemed to agree on everything. He found Minerva becoming incredibly dull. There really wasn't any spark, just book discussions. If he ever wanted to be with someone, he would want the girl to make his life interesting.
One Week Later...
Holly Short found herself standing in a hospital surrounded by sick creatures. There was a epidemic in the fairy world, and no one was sure of the cause. There were doctors everywhere, helping patients into gurneys. The People could only pray that the virus would not warp and become airborne, like so many diseases often did.
She gave Mulch a concerned look as the doctor poked and prodded him. The moment he had been hit with stomach problems, he had been rushed to the hospital. Nobody was willing to take a chance with this new disease, even if it meant being rushed to the hospital when you had a cramp.
"What's wrong with him?" Holly wrinkled her nose at the smell Mulch was radiating. Troll dung was so gruesome smelling that it could make the weak hearted faint, but even that smell couldn't compare to his odor. Her eyes watered from the pain that the scent was causing her nose.
Now that the doctor was done looking him over, he now stood in the corner farthest away from Mulch. She couldn't blame the doctor, he did smell pretty bad. Her stomach was actually began to feel a little queasy, and she was standing 20 meters away. The dwarf smiled a tombstone grin at the doctor.
The doctor smirked back, "Your smelly friend doesn't have the new disease."
"What could it be then," he cried. Even though the words from his mouth sounded surprised, she could tell that he wasn't. He had put up quite a fight when he was being hauled to the hospital. It wouldn't surprise her a singe bit if she discovered he had pulled something criminal on them, it was in his nature. "I smell like I came out of Foaly's-"
"It's not life threatening, is it?" She knew perfectly well that he wasn't going to die, but the doctor seemed to be irritated by his behavior. If the doctor had even heard Mulch, his face did not show it. 'He's a lot like Artemis,' she thought. 'He never lets anything show.'
"No," the doctor looked at his charts. "He's got a extraordinarily large diamond stuck in his intestines. When a dwarfs waste can't get out one way, it goes out another."
Holly visibly flinched. Having dwarf manure anywhere on her was not a appealing thought, and she silently prayed that no physical contact had been made. She strangely wasn't bothered as much as she thought she should be. It was a long time coming; when they had worked together, she saw that he wasn't totally enthralled with being good. " Do I even want to know how you managed to swallow a large diamond?"
Mulch grimaced as Holly stood in front of him, hands on hips. Even though she was shorter then him, she could still be extremely frightening. Normally, she was angelic in her ways; however, she was more like a demon when angry. Her hair that had been grown out to mid-neck length was like fire around her face. He grimaced, "Would it help to tell you that it was a accident?"
She wasn't actually angry with him. Apart of her felt guilty because she didn't feel any anger towards his actions, and that was why she was upset. As much as she tried to hide it, she knew that it was in his nature. "I doubt it, Diggums."
A gurney being dragged down the hallway next to the door caught her attention. There was a little girl laying on the mattress, her eyes and face showing death. The fairy couldn't have been more then 30 years old, but the kid still had her life ripped from her. It gave Holly a cold feeling in her stomach.
The girls face was covered with many blue spots in odd shapes, and her face was a odd purple color. A vision of Artemis flickered in front of her eyes as she watched the girl. She had been thinking a lot about him that past week. 'Maybe I should give him a call, just to make sure he's alright.'
"So young, these victims." The doctor appeared to be talking to himself; although, his gaze was upon her. The ice in her stomach was not going away, she just couldn't away the feeling of doom that was upon her. Intuition was something that she didn't lack, and she had that feeling that something was wrong. "it's a real pity. We have had many more deaths today."
The disease had come from nowhere, stealing souls away from The People. Before the epidemic had seemed so unreal like something taken out of mud men movies, but now she could see how real it was. It reminded her of her father when she was here. She could still remember the scurrying of healer warlocks as they tried to make him well. 'I don't want to think about that,' she thought.
"I'm sure they'll find a cure," she said.
"I hope so, it would be a pity to see more younglings die." In his hands was a bottle of medicine that looked incredibly pure. It looked so vibrant and delicious that she fought the urge to grab the bottle from the doctor, and drink the antidote herself. Mulch took it eagerly. "Drink this-"
He drank the medicine very quickly, but he also spit it out just as fast. The poor doctor was covered from head to toe in spit and medicine. He looked as though he had come out of swimming pool, even though the medication had only filled a small vile. Mulch yelped, "That was horrible!"
The doctor fell to the floor in dead faint. The dwarf spittle hardened fast, leaving the unfortunate soul wrapped in a thick cocoon of spit. Holly was still in deep shock. She knew to suspect the unexpected from Mulch, but that was a little to surprising. She cried, "You can swallow acres worth of manure, chew on somebody's butt, and yet you couldn't swallow that little vile of medicine?"
Foaly tapped on the computer's keyboard impatiently. Whenever he felt as though he had the disease figured out, it twisted itself into some new form. It was almost like the disease had a brain. Never once in the history of The People had he ever known something this complicated.
Vinyaya turned to him and sighed. She may not be a genius like he was, but she could definitely understand when they hit another dead end. Dealing with diseases was mostly dealt with among warlocks, but Foaly's knew mate had become sick with the disease. Ever since she had been admitted into the hospital, he had been working nonstop to find a cure. "How's it coming?"
His pride had been squashed like a goblin's head in Mulch's teeth. As much as he hated to admit it, he was going to need some help. "I hate to say this, but I need Artemis Fowl."