Chappy 1 The tall building loomed out of the fog and effectively ruined my mood. I could have kicked Malachi for making me enroll here, and trust me, my kicks have broken bones. The Stanchinsky School was, well, expensive. Not that we couldn't afford it, but over 23,500 dollars each for three kids? Two words: holy shit. The high tuition better mean that the dorms are fucking nice. The twins stood a little ways away from us, as if they didn't want to be seen with the hunky “assistant” and their little sister. Please. They were just as new as I was. Soon they'd have to come looking for me, especially when they wanted to sneak out. Malachi pushed me forward. Apparently, the sun was getting to him. I entered the foyer of the school and held the door open for the twins. They walked by me, purposely avoiding me. I guess that they were as miffed as I was about having to go to school with each other. Malachi led us to the office where we were met by who I assumed was the head. He had very little hair on his head, his belly protruded over his waistband, and his brown eyes were small and watery. He reminded me of a rat I had once found back in London. I had been walking around the pier near sunset and had found him burrowing in some garbage. Curious, I had picked him up by his tail and stared him in the eyes. The whole time, he didn't squeak once. It was sort of unnerving, like maybe he understood that I wasn't going to hurt him. Finally, after about ten minutes, I put him back down on the garbage pile and walked away. Anyway, that's what the headmaster looked like. He motioned for the four of us to enter his study, which was so crammed full of books that there was hardly anyplace to sit. Malachi and the twins sat in front of the desk, which was only about two square feet of space, so it had to be uncomfortable. I stood near the door. If there's one thing I hate, it's sitting in a headmaster's office. I always end up feeling like I'm in trouble. Malachi and the head began discussing schedules, and the twins were thumb wrestling. I mean, come on, thumb wrestling? I snorted and turned on my iPod. I sighed contentedly when Sebastian Wolff flowed through the little ear buds. My hands began mimicking the music, playing on an invisible piano. Oh yeah, I was in the zone. Malachi turned around and stared me in the eyes. I about melted right then and there. Damn him. I arched an eyebrow in reply and he held up a piece of paper covered in highlighter marks. I reached over and took it. I smiled when I saw it. Monday, Thursday Advanced Trigonometry Classical Piano Advanced Physics Voice Training Tuesday, Wednesday Song Writing British Myth and Legend Performance Session Classic Literature Friday Symphony Advanced Theater Photography Free Period I nodded in approval and folded the paper. The twins had their schedules in front of their noses and were moving their mouths as they read. I smirked and rolled my eyes. Mr. Rat was motioning towards me while he and Malachi talked. Curious, I turned the iPod down and listened. “She needs to be auditioned, but from her transcripts, she is very well trained. Maybe we could go into the auditorium, and she could play something for us?” Mr. Rat was looking at me hopefully. “Of course, but you'll need her permission. She usually doesn't play when asked. She needs to be in the mood.” Ah, good ol' Malachi. No wonder I loved him. I shrugged. Whatever. Like I said before, I was in the zone. Mr. Rat clapped enthusiastically and I nearly gagged. He had pit stains the size of Russia. Malachi stood up and cuffed the twins over the head, making them get out of the way. We all shuffled out into the huge entrance hall where Mr. Rat took the lead. We walked up two flights of stairs, down three halls, down one flight of stairs, and up a ramp. Two doors suddenly appeared in front of us and I gasped. They were huge! I mean, they were probably fifteen feet tall and one of them alone was probably nine feet wide. For a second, I was home in Ireland, with the huge doors of the castles all around me. I knew I was going to love it here. Mr. Rat let us into the huge auditorium. A glossy black grand piano stood in the center of the stage with a single spotlight on it. I smiled and made my way toward it. I had no problem navigating through the labyrinth of soft, cushy seats. Finally, I climbed onto the stage, heedless of my short skirt. What did I care if I flashed my panties at the four males in the dark? The keys were calling my name. “When you're ready,” Mr. Rat called up to me, “please play an original song. Any length you want.” I nodded again and sat down. Taking a deep breath, I began to play. No introductions, no ado. The music flowed out of my fingertips, quick and slow, rest here, sing here, playplayplay...no drums or guitar, like usual, but it works, softly, get louder now now NOW. I couldn't think of her while the lyrics escaped my mouth or I would have had to stop, and I couldn't afford that, not now, not when I had something to prove. Three and a half minutes. That's all it took. When I'd finished, the twins and Malachi just looked at me. I guess they couldn't really believe that I played her song... Mr. Rat started clapping, but it wasn't just him...I looked towards the doors and there was a boy about the twins' age standing partly in the shadows. He was...gorgeous. Not fucking cute, but beautiful. In that way that made you want to paint them, or sculpt them, or write music about them...my fingers began searching out the notes on the piano. Mr. Rat noticed him too and beckoned him in. “Ah, Mr. Halifax! What can I do for you?” “Uh,” the boy said in a soft, musical voice. “My meeting.” He ran his hand down the cello case he held. “Of course, of course,” Mr. Rat said. He motioned at Malachi, the twins and me. “Mr. Halifax, this is Gareth, Gaheris, and Isobel Beaumains and Malachi MacConluain. Misters and Miss Beaumains, Mr. MacConluain, this is Ezekiel Halifax, our Cello Major.” I hopped off of the stage, walked to the group, and reached out to shake his hand. “Call me Izzie. I abhor the name Isobel.” Malachi shot me a look and I instantly regretted the word choice in that sentence. “It really sucks,” I amended. Ezekiel smiled. “Zeke. I hate my name too.” Behind me, the twins began to snicker. I glared at them over my shoulder, but they ignored me. Instead, Malachi, my savior, took the lead to get us away from that awkward scene. “Mr. Knickerbacker, we really must be going. Thank you for the meeting.” Mr. Rat nodded. “No problem, Mr. MacConluain. Remember, check in is Monday at six pm. Let's get you back to the entrance hall. This school is like a maze,” he added disgustedly. The five of us followed Mr. Rat back down to his office, where the twins, Malachi, and I all bade farewell to the two males standing side by side, watching us leave. I definitely couldn't wait three more days to see Zeke again, and I'm sure Malachi knew it.

The tall building loomed out of the fog and effectively ruined my mood. I could have kicked Malachi for making me enroll here, and trust me, my kicks have broken bones. The Stanchinsky School was, well, expensive. Not that we couldn't afford it, but over 23,500 dollars each for three kids? Two words: holy shit. The high tuition better mean that the dorms are fucking nice. The twins stood a little ways away from us, as if they didn't want to be seen with the hunky “assistant” and their little sister. Please. They were just as new as I was. Soon they'd have to come looking for me, especially when they wanted to sneak out. Malachi pushed me forward. Apparently, the sun was getting to him. I entered the foyer of the school and held the door open for the twins. They walked by me, purposely avoiding me. I guess that they were as miffed as I was about having to go to school with each other. Malachi led us to the office, where we were met by who I assumed was the head. He had very little hair on his head, his belly protruded over his waistband, and his brown eyes were small and watery. He reminded me of a rat I had once found back in London. I had been walking around the pier near sunset, and had found him burrowing in some garbage. Curious, I had picked him up by his tail and stared him in the eyes. The whole time, he didn't squeak once. It was sort of unnerving, like maybe he understood that I wasn't going to hurt him. Finally, after about ten minutes, I put him back down on the garbage pile and walked away. Anyway, that's what the headmaster looked like. He motioned for the four of us to enter his study, which was so crammed full of books that there was hardly anyplace to sit. Malachi and the twins sat in front of the desk, which was only about two square feet of space, so it had to be uncomfortable. I stood near the door. If there's one thing I hate, it's sitting in a headmaster's office. I always end up feeling like I'm in trouble. Malachi and the head began discussing schedules, and the twins were thumb wrestling. I mean, come on, thumb wrestling? I snorted and turned on my iPod. I sighed contentedly when Sebastian Wolff flowed through the little ear buds. My hands began mimicking the music, playing on an invisible piano. Oh yeah, I was in the zone. Malachi turned around and stared me in the eyes. I about melted right then and there. Damn him. I arched an eyebrow in reply, and he held up a piece of paper covered in highlighter marks. I reached over and took it. I smiled when I saw it. Monday, Thursday Advanced Trigonometry Classical Piano Advanced Physics Voice Training Tuesday, Wednesday Song Writing British Myth and Legend Performance Session Classic Literature Friday Symphony Advanced Theater Photography Free Period I nodded in approval and folded the paper. The twins had their schedules in front of their noses and were moving their mouths as they read. I smirked and rolled my eyes. Mr. Rat was motioning towards me while he and Malachi talked. Curious, I turned the iPod down and listened. “She needs to be auditioned, but from her transcripts, she is very well trained. Maybe we could go into the auditorium, and she could play something for us?” Mr. Rat was looking at me hopefully. “Of course, but you'll need her permission. She usually doesn't play when asked. She needs to be in the mood.” Ah, good ol' Malachi. No wonder I loved him. I shrugged. Whatever. Like I said before, I was in the zone. Mr. Rat clapped enthusiastically, and I nearly gagged. He had pit stains the size of Russia. Malachi stood up and cuffed the twins over the head, making them get out of the way. We all shuffled out into the huge entrance hall, where Mr. Rat took the lead. We walked up two flights of stairs, down three halls, down one flight of stairs, and up a ramp. Two doors suddenly appeared in front of us and I gasped. They were huge! I mean, they were probably fifteen feet tall, and one of them alone was probably nine feet wide. For a second, I was home in Ireland, with the huge doors of the castles all around me. I knew I was going to love it here. Mr. Rat let us into the huge auditorium. A glossy black grand piano stood in the center of the stage, with a single spotlight on it. I smiled and made my way toward it. I had no problem navigating through the labyrinth of soft, cushy seats. Finally, I climbed onto the stage, heedless of my short skirt. What did I care if I flashed my panties at the four males in the dark? The keys were calling my name. “When you're ready,” Mr. Rat called up to me, “please play an original song. Any length you want.” I nodded again, and sat down. Taking a deep breath, I began to play. No introductions, no ado. The music flowed out of my fingertips, quick and slow, rest here, sing here, playplayplay...no drums or guitar, like usual, but it works, softly, get louder now now NOW. I couldn't think of her while the lyrics escaped my mouth, or I would have had to stop, and I couldn't afford that, not now, not when I had something to prove. Three and a half minutes. That's all it took. When I'd finished, the twins and Malachi just looked at me. I guess they couldn't really believe that I played her song... Mr. Rat started clapping, but it wasn't just him...I looked towards the doors, and there was a boy about the twins' age standing partly in the shadows. He was...gorgeous. Not fucking cute, but beautiful, in that way that made you want to paint them, or sculpt them, or write music about them...my fingers began searching out the notes on the piano. Mr. Rat noticed him, too, and beckoned him in. “Ah, Mr. Halifax! What can I do for you?” “Uh,” the boy said in a soft, musical voice. “My meeting.” He ran his hand down the cello case he held. “Of course, of course,” Mr. Rat said. He motioned at Malachi, the twins and me. “Mr. Halifax, this is Gareth, Gaheris, and Isobel Beaumains and Malachi MacConluain. Misters and Miss Beaumains, Mr. MacConluain, this is Ezekiel Halifax, our Cello Major.” I hopped off of the stage, walked to the group, and reached out to shake his hand. “Call me Izzie. I abhor the name Isobel.” Malachi shot me a look, and I instantly regretted the word choice in that sentence. “It really sucks,” I amended. Ezekiel smiled. “Zeke. I hate my name, too.” Behind me, the twins began to snicker. I glared at them over my shoulder, but they ignored me. Instead, Malachi, my savior, took the lead to get us away from that awkward scene. “Mr. Knickerbacker, we really must be going. Thank you for the meeting.” Mr. Rat nodded. “No problem, Mr. MacConluain. Remember, check in is Monday at six pm. Let's get you back to the entrance hall. This school is like a maze,” he added disgustedly. The five of us followed Mr. Rat back down to his office, where the twins, Malachi, and I all bade farewell to the two males standing side by side, watching us leave. I definitely couldn't wait three more days to see Zeke again, and I'm sure Malachi knew it.

Ambassador Scholarship Speech Hello. First, I would like to thank you for the invitation, and for giving me the opportunity to present this speech to you. Each of the candidates was instructed to give a presentation in any way that we feel most comfortable. As you may have noticed, my presentation will be in the form of a speech, as I was on the Speech and Debate team, and this is something that has rubbed off on me. Now, we were given three topics to present on. The first topic was ‘The Reasons I Want to Attend Eastern Utah.’ This is somewhat of a personal thing for me. There are three main reasons why I chose Eastern Utah. First, as you can guess, it is close to home. I live in Ferron, and I feel that it would be easier to drive forty five minutes to and from school everyday, rather than three or four hours every other weekend. The second reason is also very predictable: Eastern Utah is very affordable. It says so in its catalogue. This reason also ties in with my third. In November, my father was in a car accident. He was in a coma for 38 days, and has only just returned home. However, he is not at the point—physically or mentally—that he was before the accident. He cannot go to work, or even get out of bed unattended. If I go to Eastern Utah, then I can be home to help my step-mother when I am not in class. Helping my family is very important to me at this point in my life. The next two topics we were given were ‘Why I want to be an Eastern Utah Ambassador,’ and ‘What I Can Contribute to the Mission of Recruitment and to the Team.’ To me, these two things consist of most of the same reasons. I want to help teens make the right choice in furthering their education after high school. Doing that consists of being very convincing; something that Speech and Debate has taught me. I love challenges. When a kid says that they don’t want to go to school, that college is a waste of time, I take that personally. I challenge myself to convince abovementioned kid to go to school, that in the long run, they will thank me. If I still can’t convince them, well…let’s just say that it hurts my pride. Being an ambassador, I think, would be so much fun, because I would get to do all of the aforementioned things, not to mention I would get to travel to high schools all over Utah, using my powers of persuasion for good. I want to become a hematologist, and I believe that going to Easter Utah for my first two years of college would benefit me more than I could ever know. And, being an ambassador would also help. This is something that you will never get to do again if you miss the opportunity. I think that this will benefit me personally, because I love to help people, no matter the situation. Thank you.

Micah rolled his eyes at his best friend. Asher was doing front handsprings down the main corridor, sending several students ducking for doorways. Asher knew how much it irritated Micah when he acted out, so he did it as much as possible. Of course, Micah was the only person who could restrain Ash, as well. When he glanced back and saw the look of disapproval on Micah’s thin, pale face, he stopped grinning and walked back to him. Apologetically, he took Micah’s hand in his own, and together they walked to class. The middle seat in each and every one of Micah’s classes was always empty, due to Micah’s obsessive compulsive disorder. He needed an equal amount of people around him, with Asher always in the right side of him. Their first class was Latin, so Micah walked in, smiled at a few students—without meeting their eyes, so he didn’t really know who it was he was smiling at—and sat down at his desk. Immediately, he began scrawling random phrases onto the wood. About twenty minutes into class, he was Pinged. He halted his assault on the desk and looked at his Tablet. It was, of course, from Asher, as he was the only one with Micah’s Ping code. He pulled out his Tabstik and opened the message. What the bloody hell are you writing? Micah smiled at his friend’s untidy script. Tapping on the “reply” key, he wrote: Only things that the Latin 3 class would understand. Pay attention. He hit “send,” then turned to Asher and smiled. The smile he got in return was dazzling. The next class, Maths, flew by, and before Micah knew it, it was time for lunch. He and Ash stepped out of the school and into the overcast city of Dublin. The renovated cathedral that was now Saint Matthew’s Catholic School for Boys was easily the tallest building for miles. After the bombings of 2019, most of the city had been leveled out, save for the school and two or three churches on the other side of the city. Asher led Micah down the street to their favorite restaurant. Halfway there, however, they ran into Gus Malarkey and his gang of thugs. They jumped off of the low wall they had been sitting on and surrounded Micah and Ash. “Hey there, Princess,” Gus said, grabbing Micah’s tie and pulling him close. His breath smelled of cigarettes and beer. “You buying lunch for me today?” Micah nodded and reached into his pocket. He stuffed a wad of cash into Gus’s outstretched hand. Gus, in turn, released Micah, blew him a kiss, and the gang walked away, guffawing loudly. Asher came up to Micah and tucked his tie back into his vest. “It’s okay, Micah,” Ash said. They were walking again, hand-in-hand, towards the restaurant. “I’ll get into his locker and get you your money back. One of these days, I’m going to kick that prat’s ass. You’ll see, Micah, he’ll get his dues.” Micah sniffed and nodded. He, too, was tired of dealing with Gus. They had all met on their first day of primary school, and since that day, Gus had picked on Micah for many different reasons. Gus’s most recent excuse for picking on Micah was the closeness of Micah’s relationship with Asher. Some of the others had been Micah’s height (roughly five-foot-nine), Micah’s eye colour (light grey), and the paleness of Micah’s skin. Each time, Asher would stick up for Micah by either screaming at Gus or breaking into his locker to nick back whatever had been stolen from Micah’s possession in the first place. By the time they had reached the restaurant, Micah had calmed down. They walked into the small building and sat down in a booth near the door. Immediately, the waitress came and took their order. Asher ordered a large plate of chips, a soy wrap, a salad and a large Coke. Micah asked for a veggie burger and a bottle of water. Within ten minutes, their food was placed in front of them with a flourish. “So, what were you writing back in Latin class?” Asher asked around a mouthful of soyham. “It all looked like a bunch of gibberish to me.” Ash’s foot kept bumping Micah’s, which was slightly distracting. Micah swallowed the food in his mouth and replied, “Several different things, really. ‘Art for the sake of art,’ ‘I came, I saw, I conquered,’ ‘Your fly is undone.’ Those sort of things. It helps that I learned Latin when I was seven. What’s so funny?” For Asher had begun laughing hard enough that Coke had shot out of his nose. Grabbing a napkin, he cleaned himself up and grinned. “‘Your fly is undone’?” “Gus walked by the window,” Micah explained quietly. “Damn thickhead,” he added, tears springing to his eyes. Asher leaned across the table and briefly squeezed Micah’s hand. “It’s all right, I’ll get it back.” A few moments later, they were back outside.

You're always on my mind And I'm just waiting for the right time To tell how I feel To tell you what I need to There's so much I should say But I find that I'm afraid Of what could happen Of all the things that you could say And if I try And things don't work out right I don't know what I'll do Because I'll always need you You are My life There's nothing better There's no one better And you are Perfect In every way In every way You stumble down the hall And brighten up my day Your sweet smile does more for me than Anything most say You're always on my mind You're short but that's just fine The way you laugh the things you say I'm just looking for the right way To tell you To tell you You are My life There's nothing better There's no one better And you are Perfect In every way In every way With some It seems That as time passes These feelings dwindle For me They stay A constant feeling Growing stronger Every day Growing stronger every day I know that I love you I know that it's true How do I tell you If only I knew That your heart And my heart Felt the same way I'd tell you that You are My life There's nothing better There's no one better And you are Perfect In every way In every way You're like an angel Fallen from heaven A vision of beauty And of perfection Your eyes and your hair Your voice oh so fair You're sweeter than sugar Kinder than all That's why You are My life There's nothing better There's no one better And you are Perfect In every way Please help me to tell you that You are My life There's nothing better There's no one better And you are Perfect In every way I love you

Jonathan and Melissa continued driving all night, and reached the small town they had been driving towards by about noon. It had taken them less time than they had planned, but they had spent the entire night driving, not stopping, and hardly talking at all. Melissa was glad they were early; it would give them a chance to check out the town they would be spending the next twelve or so hours in, get some gas, and find somewhere to sleep. She had taken over the second half of driving, and was dead tired. “All right, Flyboy, where should we go first?” Melissa asked. “Probably a gas station would be a good place to find first, we’re almost out,” Jonathan replied, glancing at towards the gas gauge, where the bar was getting dangerously close to the ‘E’. “Sounds good to me. Then we can find somewhere to park the car, and maybe sleep for a while.” “Yeah…not in a hotel though; we wouldn’t be able to check out tomorrow.” “Right. We should just stay in the car today, but when we get to one of the places with the special coordinates that Dess gave us, I think it might be worth our while to stay there a couple days.” Melissa was looking forward to these places. It made her senses tingle thinking of the possibility of more midnighters…more people like her, Jonathan, and the others…maybe even another mindcaster. Jonathan suddenly spotted what appeared to be a run down old gas station, and they turned off the road into its parking lot. Jonathan pulled up alongside one of the two gas pumps, got out of the car, and jogged over to the tiny shack to check and see if there was actually a person there. Sure enough, there was a slightly balding old man slumped behind a cash register. Not that there was really anything to buy in the store. From what Jonathan could see, there was only a rack of some sort of chips, a small cooler of what appeared to be soda, and some cigarettes on a shelf. Besides that, the employee, or owner, or whatever he was seemed to be asleep. Jonathan decided the station was probably open, even though there wasn’t a sign or anything, and headed back to the car to fill it up. Back inside the car, Melissa was mindcasting. She really doubted there would be other midnighters out here, only a few hundred miles from Bixby, and with no particular coordinates or anything, but hey, it was worth a shot. This, like Bixby, was a very small town where you’d never think anything would happen, and look what had happened in Bixby. This town was even smaller and less populated than Bixby, though. They were only on the outskirts, it was true, but Melissa could tell this wasn’t exactly the sort of place where everyone had mansions and loft apartments. She sighed in frustration; she still wasn’t getting anything. Ah well, it’s not as if she had been expecting anything. When Jonathan got back in the car a few minutes later, they began driving around the town some more, searching for a park or somewhere quiet where they could park their car. Soon they found the perfect place. It was a small park a little ways off the side of the road, and it looked relatively quiet, with no playgrounds to attract young children. “Well,” said Melissa, who was growing more tired by the minute, and didn’t much care where she slept, “you can have the back seat, and I’ll just stay in my seat.” “No, it’s fine,” Jonathan replied. “You’re shorter, you should take it, I’ll be fine here.” “Thanks, Flyboy,” said Melissa tiredly as she opened her door and stepped out. “I’ll set my watch to wake us up at seven thirty; we’ll probably want to find some food.” “Yeah,” said Melissa, just now realizing she hadn’t eaten anything in over twelve hours. And with that she fell asleep. When they awoke groggily about seven and a half hours later, they went to go find some food, and then, as they had nothing else to do, snuck into a movie, past the sleeping employee who was supposed to be taking tickets- what was up with all the workers in this town? As the time wore on, and midnight got closer, Jonathan became increasingly more twitchy, and Melissa knew he was excited to see Jessica again. As much as it made her roll her eyes, she felt a small pang of jealousy. If only she could still see Rex every day. The sensible part of her knew that her and Rex’s situation was probably more ideal than Jonathan and Jessica’s. After all, Rex could always join them someday, and Jessica might be stuck in blue time forever. Although Rex had mentioned…but Melissa hadn’t given his idea much thought; she hadn’t thought it would work. But maybe…just maybe, she was wrong. She and Jonathan were now standing by their car in the park, waiting for Jessica. Once midnight hit, they planned for Melissa to find Jessica using her mind, and have Jonathan fly them to wherever she was. Melissa wondered if it would be a good idea to tell Flyboy or Jessica about Rex’s plan, but Rex had sounded pretty sure. Just a few minutes after midnight, they found Jessica, and Melissa was now watching Jessica and Jonathan’s reunion with a mixture of disgust and amusement. They look happy, she thought. Maybe it would be a good idea to tell them...not that it's a sure thing of course, but that it's a possibility. "Hey," she called to them, once she was absolutely positive she wouldn't interrupt anything. "I need to tell you something." They walked over, and looked expectantly at her. "All right, maybe I should have told you to this before, but up until not that long ago, I had forgotten about it, 'cause I didn't really think it would work. But well, I've been thinking, and who knows? Rex might be able to figure it out." Jessica and Jonathan exchanged confused looks. "Ok," Melissa said. "Now, don't get too excited, because I don't want to be the one to crush your dreams if this doesn't work. But Rex...well, he thinks he might be able to find a way to get Jessica back into normal time. Using the lore, you know." She watched as Jessica and Jonathan's expressions changed from confused, to hopeful, and finally to excited. "Really?" Jessica breathed. "That would be...I mean..." She seemed to be unable to find words to describe this. Jonathan was just as happy as Jessica. "No way! But I thought, I thought she was stuck here- in the blue time forever! She really might be able to come back into daytime?" He looked at Melissa hopefully. "Well, Rex seems to think so. He says-" Melissa was cut off by the sound of Jonathan's phone ringing. It was the only communication device they had brought with them, and they had only brought it in case of an emergency from Rex, Dess, or Maddie. Jonathan pulled it out of his pocket to see who was calling, and threw it at Melissa once he had checked. "Rex," he mouthed at her. Melissa nodded caught the phone, and answered it. "Hello?" "Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I think I found a cure. You know, for Jessica," Rex told her. Melissa's mouth dropped open. Sorry guys, I know it took me so long to post that, but I hope it was long enough:). Also, I know it probably seemed a little rushed, but I kinda wanted to get to that last part in this chapter. Anyways, hope you liked it!

December, 2022 Weeks passed and the Quidditch season started without Albus. Even though he was back in school, he just wasn’t physically fit nor mentally fit enough to deal with the stressed of practices and matches. His school work was hard enough but he was lucky to have Scorpius there to get him caught up on the three weeks he’d missed. In the six weeks he’d been back in school he was just barely staying a float. He wasn’t miserable or lying in bed all the time, but he frequently did think of his mother and got distracted from his work or the lesson in class. Although now, school work was far from Albus’ mind and he was back in his bedroom at the family’s home in Godric’s Hollow. Albus could hardly call them a family with one very important fifth of it missing and this thought made him sad as he was looking at the mirror. He blinked his green eyes slowly, watching the reflection blink back. He looked marginally better than he had upon arriving at school six weeks ago. He’d gained about nine pounds back, so that left only six pounds to go and he’d be back to his original weight. He made a mental note to not hold back on the snacks and sweets tonight- it was, after all, New Year’s Eve and they’d be going round to the burrow for a party. Albus was skeptic of how much partying would really be going on and hoped more than anything it wouldn’t turn into a mope-fest and a memorial. He loved his mum and missed her a lot but it got hard talking about her all the time. He was ready to be okay. Sad and nostalgic occasionally, but okay. Plus, Draco Malfoy had finally caved and consented to letting Scorpius join and Potter/Weasley clan for the evening so he didn’t want to drag him down too. Albus speculated Draco’s lenience was out of a fleeting moment of pity because he’d lost his mother, which made Albus mad because he hated being pitied but he could live with it just this once since it was working out in his favour. Albus got up from his seat when he heard his name called. He looked himself over in the mirror again and now realized his bright red jeans and white t-shirt with the silver fireworks exploding across it were more fitting of the Americans’ Independence day than New Year’s Eve. However, there wasn’t time for him to rummage through his wardrobe for a new outfit so he’d just have to live with it. He pulled on some shoes and hurried down the stairs. Holding onto James while Lily held onto their father, Albus took a breath, closing his eyes and enduring the discomforts of side-long apparition. He blinked, looking around when he felt his feet sturdy on solid ground again. The were on a dirt road, and to the west was a giant iron fence and gate and standing in front of it was Scorpius and Draco Malfoy. Albus looked beyond and saw the great, towering manor. It looked exactly the way Scorpius had described it; a house, not a home. Draco stepped forward, pulling his son with him. “Potter,” he said calmly, nodding in acknowledgment. “Scorpius is to be home no later than noon tomorrow, and he’s not allowed to have more then three drinks with alcohol in them,” he instructed, giving a curt nod and squeezing Scorpius’ shoulder. “His mother’s rule, not mine,” he added. “Thank you for inviting me,” chirped Scorpius when ribbed by his father. “Not at all, Scorpius,” said Harry, offering the boy a friendly smile. He looked back at Draco and confirmed, “Noon and no more than three. I’ll be sure of it.” “Very good. Behave yourself, young man,” he muttered to his son before nodding a goodbye and turning back toward the house. Scorpius walked up to them, cheeks faintly pink. He looked more appropriately dressed, in nice but casual robes. He looked Albus up and down, an entertained expression working its way across his pale, pink-tinted face. “What… are you wearing,” he asked, cracking a wide grin. Albus narrowed his eyes and stuck his tongue out in false irritation. “It’s a holiday. I’m dressed festively,” he retorted. “Come on, boys. You can bicker just as well at the Burrow as here on a dirt road,” Lily said, giving them a look and shivering from the wind. Albus grabbed Scorpius’ hand and James’ in the other. Scorpius and James grabbed hands and moments later they were in the front yard at the Burrow. Scorpius’ legs wobbled and he looked like he was about to be sick. “I hate apparating,” he muttered before dropping to his knees and promptly getting sick into a bush. Albus knelt down beside him and pulled his hair back from his face. “Every sodding time,” he groaned once he’d finished emptying his stomach. Albus patted his back gently. “Yeah, I know… come on inside, I’ll take you to the restroom and get you cleaned up. Did you need a lie-down,” Albus said, standing up and helping Scorpius to his feet. “I don’t think it’d hurt to have a ten or twenty minute lie down,” he answered honestly, walking into the house with Albus. Molly Weasley the first made to get up but Albus waved her off. “Not right now, Nan,” he said apologetically, “Scorpius is ill. I’ll be back out in a few minutes, just let me get him squared away.” He was relieved that his Nana didn’t persist, just sat back down looking taken aback. Albus stood leaning back against the bathroom wall, watching Scorpius rinse his mouth. It occurred to him that he could have used magic, because he was seventeen now but it was a little late. He slid down to his behind once Scorpius laid down on the floor, closing his eyes. “I’m glad you invited me,” the blonde haired boy spoke quietly, keeping his blue eyes shut. Albus snorted without restraint. “Don’t be stupid, of course I invited you,” he said, “I invite you every bleeding year. I’m glad your father said yes this time.” “I feel bad you had to rush past your Nan because of me,” Scorpius mumbled. “You should go back and say hello. Tell her I said hello too, and that I’m sorry for being poor company right away,” he added and chuckled. “I will in a few minutes. I just… need a break. I saw her all the time for three weeks. She just saw me six weeks ago, so it’s not like she can say I’ve grown.” Albus rested his chin between his knees. “She’s really sad, but she’s trying to cover it up. I think it’s hit her harder than the rest of us because Ginny was her only girl and the baby of the family. She lost my uncle Fred a year before Victoire was born. So now she‘s outlived two of her children.” Scorpius remained silent, not knowing what he was supposed to say. He took a deep breath and sat up slowly, exhaling once he was sat up. “I think I’m all settled now,” he said softly, offering Albus a smiled. The evening didn’t turn out to be too bad, after all. It was definitely more subdue than parties at the Burrow had been until recently, but it was by no means a sob fest. The family and various friends had been talking and eating and singing. Albus and Scorpius’ classmate Frank had beaten his father Neville at five games of Wizard’s Chess, as well as beat uncle Percy four times which resulting in the man insisting Frank was cheating. “I think I’m completely ready for two thousand and twenty two to be over,” said Scorpius as they sat on the small roof outside uncle Charlie’s old room. It was five minutes to midnight now and Scorpius had had his three drinks, Albus had had four and they were now sharing his fifth. Their parents didn’t need to know everything. Albus kept shooting his clock glances. He knew who he wanted to kiss at midnight; the boy was sitting right beside him. In his lowered state of proper judgment, he thought he just might do it without any worries of how Scorpius would respond to it. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” Albus slurred, leaning his head against Scorpius’ shoulder. They were quiet for a few minutes then. Scorpius was thinking about a kiss at midnight too. His head was going mad with eternal conflict. How much he wanted to just feel Albus’ lips against his own and how wrong it’d be to do so. He knew Albus would always be his best friend and nothing as little as a kiss could ruin a strong friendship. However, Scorpius’ relationship with his parents was far from accepting. Stomach turning, Albus glimpsed thirty seconds to midnight. He took a deep breath and sat up straight, turning his body to face Scorpius. Scorpius looked at him, nervous. He was hopeful and dreading at the same time. Ten, nine, eight… their faces moved closer in sync with the family’s counting down in the living room. Seven, six, five, four… only a breath or two between their lips. Three, two, one… sweet contact. Both boys drew in breath sharply, tangling hands in each others hair. They’d done nothing like this before. Albus felt his heart soar as Scorpius’ lips received his eagerly. Scorpius panicked inwardly but was unable to deny himself the pleasure. When Albus parted his lips, Scorpius pulled away. He stared at his best friend, pale face confused and startled. Albus held his breath. “I… we… and… Merlin,” Scorpius sputtered, unable to find words. He had to get away from Albus. He had to think about this. Or better yet, not think about it at all. “I’m going to bed,” he mumbled lamely and hurried through the window, almost knocking over the drink in his haste. Albus was left on the roof, slack jawed and blinking. A smile spread across his face quickly. Scorpius kissed him back. Granted, he was freaking out after the fact but he’d still kissed back. That had to mean something. Note: Once more, thank you for your lovely reviews! I hope you enjoyed this new installment.

Chapter Eight: Echoing As might go without saying, there was a lot of beseeching, and crying, and just general drama and mayhem that night. My relationship with Butler was permanently altered. I did not know where Butler was by nightfall nor in what light he regarded me anymore. I lightly worried for Remy's well-being, but quickly dismissed it. I had full confidence that, no matter what emotional state Butler was in, he would keep a reign on his emotions and separate personal from professional like any good bodyguard know to do. However, the entire house seemed keen to what had happened between the two of us. My father came to me directly afterward to have a quiet dinner of grilled chicken by the open windows. After that, Mother invited both me and Remy to watch some strange and inconceivable women's movie on a woman in the late seventies who was abused by her husband. Remy and Mother immediately began trading tissues when the woman gathered up her wits enough to face her bear monster of her husband and I had the presence of mind enough to keep my mouth shut and keep quiet. After that! Julia dragged both me and Remy down into the yard and her and Remy had a fight to the death over some obscure wrestling move that she swore could be done from the top ropes while he argued that it would have done more damage to the aggressor than the prey. They had their own little tussle which ended in Julia jumping off a tree branch to test her theory. She executed it perfectly and ended up nearly knocking poor little Remy unconscious. This ended up with her dragging him, quite literally, into the house and the bathroom for some first aide by my own hand. After I was done and Remy was busy whining on the bathroom floor, Julia showed me the darkening bruises on her back grinning. Apparently, she liked Remy a lot and gave me her blessings right there and then. I thought it very big of her and graced her with a smile, though I am not truly sure if I meant to do that from the beginning. I do not regret it. When all of this was finished, Remy had finally caught wind of what had transpired between me and Butler. His way of dealing with it was to be extra gentle, extra fun, just extra loving, I suppose. As the sun fell below the hills surrounding Fowl Manor, I felt safe in his arms and held no qualms about leaning into him just a small bit more than I usually did. Even though, I did not regret what I had done to Butler by turning him down, I did not like it either. I felt it was necessary, yet I wish that there had been some way to avoid it, to put it off for another hour or even a minute. Anything to preserve things the way they were for just a brief moment more. The thought of loosing him to any point at all dug deep in my chest and buried itself, cold and metallic, right beside my heart. It hurt. Deeply. When the sun had dipped far below the horizon and all that was left to document it's existence in this realm was a soft tinting of pink against the twinkling night sky, Remy lifted me up with a soft tug and guided me out of the brisk night air into the close air of inside. He held my hand all the way to my room and we did not talk. As soon as the door was closed, his lips were on mine and we were not able to talk. His hands were hot against my stomach, though I could not remember when he had slipped them under my shirt, and they were contrasting the cool wood of my door against my back His hands were feverish and his lips were frantic, drinking everything from me hurriedly, yet savoringly. I was not quite sure how he accomplished this, but I commended him on it. Next the wood is gone from my back to be replaced by the soft and accommodating bed coverlet. His hands and lips are still everywhere, so that I feel as if I'm not in my room, but in Remy. He's wrapped me up and it is only me and him in the entire world. Some little voice in the back of my head wonders idly if Remy will be lonely when he eats me up with this flame. 'Will he be lonely when I am all gone and he is all alone in this world just for us?' 'Of course not! Remy is going to burn with me,' I answered the voice. Now, the clothes were stripping off our bodies like the layers of an onion, revealing never before seen flesh and pale areas never touched, even by the vicious sun. I was truly wrapped up in him now. It seemed every part of my body was touching his and it was fire. It was passion, it was sex at it's finest, it love. There was so much grinding, undulating, and writhing for such a while, stoking the fires every higher until there was no more reason to stop this act that had never passed between the two of us before. Finally, the animalistic movements began to gain some purpose other than just to gain some ephemeral justification. His hands slipped between my legs much easier than they should have and his fingers slipped into me without protest from me or my little opening. I gasped and I wiggled about, complaining through little gasps about some vague discomfort, while Remy licked and kissed away the pains. There was stretching and curious little wiggles of his fingers that felt much nicer than I ever thought they would. Sex was like this? I never would have guessed. After some untold numbers of Remy's fingers had ventured into me and thoroughly invaded me, I felt something different pushing and prodding with little rocking gestures at the juncture between my legs. I whined a little. I low, long groaning sound that sounded pathetic even to me. At this, Remy leaned down, brushing his lips against my cheeks and the little trails of tears caused by the tingles that had been ravishing my spine and the deep burning heat gathered in my groin. He whispered a barely audible apology and continued his careful pushing, until Remy buried deep, extremely deep, within me. Everything stopped. Remy stopped moving and stay poised above me, panting lightly. I remained unmoved beneath him, my hips tipped up slightly and my hands level with my head while my chest heaved with silent sobs. For all the frantic heated movement of a few moments ago, everything was still now, and all I could feel was him pulsating within me and the tight feel of pulling pain around him. The feel of a string's strands snapping under the strain of a weight it can not possibly hold. But... That feeling persisted in diminishing until I started to feel a deep and throbbing pleasure from being filled so deeply. Catching my breath with a little gasp, I finally dragged my eyes up to Remy's face, my eyes imploring him silently to continue. And, he did. Just a gentle rocking at first. Experimental. As I slowly got used to the feeling, my hips rocked forward with the same gentle motion to meet his hips. This encouraged him more and his thrusts became a little harder, a little deeper. My arms went around his neck to give me better leverage and thrust back. His hands wrapped around and grasped my shoulders, stabilizing himself to thrust harder. I nuzzled into the crook of his neck as a particularly good thrust hit some small spot that sent a jolt of pleasure through me. He began to bite my neck, to leave the small indentation of his teeth against my nape. Then, I was gasping. Something was building. I could feel myself building, the fire reaching higher, reaching towards the sky, the apex. I tried to tell him, I hoped that he could hear my gasped pleas, decipher my meaning, read between the lines of my little mewlings as he usually did. I think he did. Picking me up and sitting me in his lap, he began to hold me up just a little bit and thrust up and out, rubbing against me with each movement. Rubbing me against him. Finally, with one little gasping cry from him and a full throated moaning scream from myself, him clutching me to his chest, we climaxed. And, it was exhausting. -Epilogue- School has started up again. Summer has given way to fall, taking with it it's sweltering nights and it's sticky humidity to make room for a wonderful blending of oranges and reds. It is like my little summer adventure never happened. However, if you look just beneath the surface of my happy student life you can see the soft reshaping my life has taken as result of it. Remy and I are even thicker than before. We are truly and deeply lovers, now, no longer just boyfriends. Jack and I have become Siamese twins, he being the only one I told of the incident that was not initially informed. I am less cruel to the teachers, more forgiving to their idiotic mistakes. I am less worried with becoming a great and powerful man and worried about what the school lunch is or what stupid date idea Remy's going to come up with next. Butler and I are still close friends. If anything, I think he respects me more and loves just a little deeper, though in a different direction. I am a being that is capable of love and considering things in a less than logical sense. I would like to think that makes me a little bit more approachable to the normal human being. There has been no word on the whereabouts of my attacker and I blame this on no one, but Butler. He has not told me what he did for me, but I can see it in his eyes when someone mentions his name. That cold satisfaction when someone drops the consoling fact that there has been no sign of him as of yet. It would not even take a genius, not even of my caliber, to see the truth behind those icy blue eyes. As for the faeries that were completely absent throughout this story? Come now, children! This only spans a few days. I am not such a freak to spend every waking moment with the fae! However, I did get condolences from Miss Holly Short, whom awkwardly announced that if I ever wanted to talk about it, she was ever eager to listen. I have not heard from Captain Root or Foaly, so I would like to assume that they are not aware of the occurrences of that summer. A godsend, I say. I would hate to think of how awkward they would be with how much trouble Holly had with it. Ah, but now Remy is calling for me. Something about a swimming pool adventure. Oh dear, if he wants me to go swimming he had better think about it once more. Sorry that I must leave you as so. Just take solace that this is nowhere near the end of this story. I have quite a few years to weave a tale greater and larger than this one and all the ones that came before it. With great and affectionate appreciation, Artemis Fowl Junior. -The End- Authoress' Note: Ho My God! I finished! Praise the Lord! bows and does twenty-five Hail Marys I can't believe I did it! Amazing... I have drive. I can finish what I start. I do not suck as an author... Yay! XD Finally, my first finished fanfiction. I want to thank God, my friend Stella, and most of all, my thesaurus! Much love! I mean, I really really really luv you guys! wipes tear away Farewell for now, Sleepy.

Chapter Seven: Confessions That Bring No Comfort The weather was not so fair this day as it was the last. Big heavy raindrops exploded against the windowpane and their released contents ran down the double-thick glass in thick undulating rivulets. The huge picture window that had been open yesterday, letting a refreshing breeze whisper in, was not shut tight and showed not but gray blobs and foggy outlines. I glared out at the dark and gloomy atmosphere, pondering whether my deep doubts about the things that happened yesterday had coated the outside world in such dreary and dreadful shadows. “Artemis?” I heard Remy call for perhaps the millionth time since I had come back from the hospital. Always, did he call my name with such teasing and testing tones. As if, just to make sure there had been no new cracks in my already damaged psyche. “What?” I asked, irritably, reverting back to one syllable sentence fragments. “Breakfast!” he answered back, holding a tray filled with all manner of morning foods under my nose. I snorted my disgust. It felt nothing like a morning. All I felt was this nasty mixture of suspicion, resentment, and regret over everything said and done the day before. Breakfast hardly seemed tempting. “Hey? What's wrong? What happened between you and that bodyguard guy, anyway?” Remy asked, putting the tray down on a nearby table and sitting on the arm of the chair placed conveniently beside the window I had been peering out of for the last week or so. “Do you really think it's any of your business what happens between me and my bodyguard?” I asked, venomously. He had no right to pry into my private life. I had no interest in being comforted either way. It would have been much better for the both of us if would just leave the subject as it was. “I suppose not... But, if something is bothering you, then I wish that you would let me help,” Remy offered, reaching out and laying his hand on my forearm. I immediately whipped my arm away, as if burnt or electrocuted. Appalled by my own reaction and the look of hurt on Remy's face, I paused, planning on apologizing, but no such apology fell from my mouth. Instead, I bowed my head in shame and held the offending arm in one hand, not meeting eyes with Remy. “You know ...” Remy began, with no malice in his voice. Surprised, I looked up with haunted eyes, though I had no idea they looked as such. “You've become a lot more violent lately. I can't blame you, though. If there's anything you don't like, you can do that. I won't get hurt. Promise!” Remy explained, taking my face in his hand. I have to admit, I resisted for a moment, a small panic rising in my chest from being restrained, but I fought it back. Finally, finally! My kiss! The one I had been wanting and waiting for for ... I had forgotten how long. His lips were still gentle, sweet, and ever so forgiving, massaging life into my noticeably cold and lifeless ones. When he kissed me, it was unlike anything I had known. It was like, Oh it's so hard to explain! As if he made me into someone I was not and soothed my soul, smoothing out all the wrinkles that I had accumulated over the years. He made me feel as if I wasn't any different from other and, yet, I was. As if I wasn't bad, or mean, or just over the top intelligent. He made me feel like I was just the one for him and that was all I really needed to be. Like that's all I wanted to be, which it was. I hate to say it, even now. Still, I knew that I loved Remy. -Hours Before, in the Sewers of Dublin, Ireland- Deep in the rank and dripping sewers of the Irish metropolis, a man who was not a man hid himself and his lack of guilt. The man lived in a dank and sad little shack off the edge of a river of human and inhuman waste, reveling in his perceived success over Domovoi Butler. Over and over, he pictured the young Artemis Fowl in a grimace of pain or simply staring off into the corner with that broken look of his. He thought often of the choked cries the boy would let out with a little prodding and bullying. However, what he thought of the most, was the way the young boy felt, deep inside. Sad to say, but it was the best fuck he had had in years! Not that he was a fag ((1.)) or anything. He just couldn't help but admit that Artemis' tight hot insides were way better than any hoe he ever got off the streets. Perhaps, if Butler was fired from his job as he supposed he would be for “kidnapping” his charge, then he would step up and take the job. It would be heaven to see the kid again. Of course, he'd have to make another mask, but that would be no problem. He was a master of creating faces. There was splashing outside. Probably just some strange type of refuse or a really huge rat, but he knew he should probably check it out. Mornsworth crawled slowly and grumpily out of his hiding place beneath a ragged blue tarp and slowly scanned the area. Nothing. As he had thought. Cursing and muttering about being ripped from his pleasurable daydreams, the monster of a man turned to go back into his relatively dry tent only to be faced with an equally terrifying monster. However, this monster was terrifying for a different reason. This monster was not scary for the disgusting horrors he was capable of committing against innocents, no. He was terrifying for the horrible light of vengeance burning in his eyes that suggested that he could be doubly cruel to those who were monstrous to innocents. “D-Domovoi!” Mornsworth stuttered out stumbling backwards and falling into the slow flowing muck of the sewer system and not even noticing. “How? When? No, please!” he began to plead as the bodyguard of his most recent victim advanced on him. “Please, I'm sorry Domovoi! I didn't really hurt the boy! Don't Kill Me!” he broke, hiding his head and face behind his hand as Butler stopped just before the flowing muck. “And, you'll never get the chance to hurt him again,” Butler stated plainly, pulling out a .45 Wesson pistole and aiming it squarely between Mornsworth's eyes. Then, moving suddenly, he changed coordinates and shot off the Rapist's right knee cap. Just as the cries of pain started in Mornsworth's throat, Butler switched targets again and shot off the left knee. Falling to his incapacitated knees, Artemis' attacker left loose a volley of cries and sobs unlike anything most would think a human could create. Human waste immediately flowed into the puncture wounds created by Butler's pistol, meaning almost certain infection if Mornsworth somehow managed to survive. “Oh, God, please, Domovoi, Butler, please, God, please have Mercy!” Mornsworth pleaded, or blubbered as most would see it. A grim smile crept across Butler's face as he saw the object of his hatred so belittled. Deciding to torture him even further, Butler asked the man sitting prone before him in a river of human feces, “How many times did you deny that to Artemis? Tell me that?” Pointing the .45 Wesson at Mornsworth again, his smile disappeared. “What?” Mornsworth asked back, seemingly confused by the question. “Wrong answer,” Butler growled, letting loose two more bullets, each burying themselves in opposite shoulders and causing another volley of screams and cries, though these held no words or pleas, only animalistic moans and sobs. No more pleading just the shock of impending death and doom. “I'll be seeing you then, Mornsworth,” Butler whispered, leveling the pistol once more, again aiming it right between the Rapist's eyes. “In hell.” -Fowl Manor- A few moments later, I was lying on my back on the bed, with Remy over top of me. Yes, things were progressing very nicely, indeed! His hands ran over my chest stomach and sides as his tongue tangled with my own and then disengaged to explore my mouth before challenging my tongue again. Overall, it was an extremely enjoyable act, in and of itself. With all of the bad things and stressful insinuations of the past few days, this was a very well needed release. I could tell that Remy was enjoying the play-time as well. After all, he was getting a make-out session with little to no cooerction on my part. Something of a miracle, I must admit. Both his movements and expressions were fevered and rushed, full of longing for something a little more than what we had advanced to yet. His hands traveled down my sides and grasped at my rear-end, eliciting a little squeak that I was fully embarrassed by. “Remy!” I yelled, pushing him off me and breathing a little hard. “Sorry,” he immediately apologized, blushing lightly himself. “I went too far, didn't I? I'm sorry.” “No, it's fine. I understand,” I replied, reigning in my own temper. He was worried about me, and I knew better than anyone that Remy tended to express himself physically, though he didn't really understand that himself. “Really?” he asked, hopeful. His eyes got big and smiled at me big and wide. A goofy and completely carefree smile. Dear, what an envious expression... “Really. How about a sandwich? Does that sound good, hm?” I asked him, easing myself off the side of the bed while wiping spit from the side of my mouth. “Yeah, that sounds great!” Remy exclaimed, bouncing off the bed and standing in front of me, still smiling happily, even eliciting a small smile from myself. Oh, I was really loosing it. How he entertained me, this energetic little ball of yellow fuzz! “Okay. Good boy,” I congratulated him, patting his head in a very degrading and mocking way, though it only made him giggle a little and run off and out of the room. I moved to follow him, but stopped when I heard his footsteps stop and his conversing with someone else, just outside the door. “Remy?” I called, questioningly. This was making me a little nervous. It was not Remy who came in and closed the door behind him, but Butler. My bodyguard stood before me, apparently appraising my disheveled appearance with disapproving eyes full of sadness and scorn. “Butler,” I acknowledged, attempting to brush past him and out the door without anymore contact than had already been established. I didn't get very far. “Wait, Artemis. I have something to say to you,” Butler said, after stopping me with an outstretched arm which barred my escape route out the door. “I don't suppose I have much choice. What is it?” I asked, still of little patience to speak with him for any length. “I want you to know that that man will never come after you again. He won't be able to hurt you every again. I took care of him for you,” Butler explained quietly, leaning down so that we were close to the same level, though he was still a good six inches above me. “Am I supposed to forgive you, now?” I asked, a little skeptical. I could guess by what he meant when he said, 'took care of', but didn't really see a well-placed bullet as repentance for the decades upon centuries spent at that man's mercy. “I could beg you right here to do so, and I would if I thought it would do any good. However, why I really told you that was so that you could have some peace of mind. You don't have to worry about him. Not anymore. I will protect you faithfully from now on. “Like you have these past few days?” I asked sarcastically, lightly pointing out his long absences over the last three days when no one could really account for his whereabouts. “I mean it!” Butler exclaimed, getting down on his knees and grasping my upper arms and not letting go, though I flinched and made vague attempts to escape. “I want to protect you Artemis, forever. I won't leave your side ever again. I don't want to leave you and there should be no reason for me to do so.” “Do you have any idea what that sounded like?” I whispered with a nasty sneer. If I could not brush him off, I would resort to hurting him with sarcasm and hard mean mocking comments. “I do. That's exactly what it was,” Butler said, his voice flat and his meaning plain. My eyes grew wide. I felt them widen and my whole body stiffened. Butler had confessed his love to me... To me! Immediately, I wanted to accept his confession. The strong powerful Butler wanted me above all others, but the more logical part of my brain popped in for a cameo. It hadn't been around since I was released from Mornsworth's care. It told me that no matter how real his feelings, this couldn't work. No matter how well we got along, I couldn't love him. No matter how good a bodyguard Butler was, he wasn't a good lover and I knew that. Though he loved me, he was twice my age, perhaps more. Our love would have to be hidden and covert in all ways. That he had many lovers, I knew that. Women and men alike had called the Manor before looking for him. The men's voices were sometimes hurt and cold and the women were crying at times. He broke hearts as quickly as he obtained him. He liked to have many lovers and, though I might be special to him, how long before he couldn't hold back his carnal urges. I obviously couldn't supply his needs. He's have to find it elsewhere. However, the most intense feeling that I had was that, I could not love him. If only he had asked me before I went off to school last September. If only he had stayed closer to me and fanned my juvenile feelings for him further, past the thin line between admiration and love. If only... If only his words had found my heart before Remy did. “I'm sorry,” I said, sincerely, reaching out to tentatively run my fingers down the side of his face. “I'm sorry, I can't.” - - - - - Authoress Note: Ooo... Denied! Yes, that is right! There is no ButlerxArtemis pairing to be had here, peoples! Ever so sorry. However, I am happy with how this turned out. Mr. Rapist has been successfully killed off, Remy and Artemis made lovely boy kisses (( XD)), and Butler has finally confessed his feelings to Artemis. That last part might come in to mess up some things, but you'll just have to wait and see. If all things work out as the original plan goes ((though they rarely do)) The next chapter will be the last one! Keep reading! Much love, Sleepy. 1.)) God, I fucking hate that word.

Chapter Six: Head-On Collision -Fowl Manor, Second Floor- The summer sun was especially bright, shining it's excellence onto everything green and growing. A light breeze stirred the leaves on the trees and hedges. Even the grass took on a gentle swaying motion, as if leaning back and forth to the beat of an infectious song. I, however, sat detachedly by the window of my second floor room, trying my best to look catatonic as Remy prattled away about some trivial nothing somewhere near my thigh. Sigh, the boy had not shut up since I had gotten out of the hospital. I suppose, because the nurses had mostly forced him to shut up in the trauma ward and he was trying to make up lost time. All together now, 'collective sigh'. “Artemis, Artemis, Artemis?” Remy asked over and over, big blue eyes glued to my face, wider than any 15 year olds should be. Apparently, he had asked me a question. Oh my. “Yes?” I replied, without looking at him. “Don't you think so? Don't you think Jack went too far with that one? It was really mean...” he whined, obviously angry that he had to repeat the vaguest points of his story. “Sigh, what did Jack do?” I asked. Since Jack was involved it must have been at least a little interesting. Jack was always ever so creative when it came to his practical jokes. “Humph!” Remy grunted, pouting in an extremely adorable fashion. Not that it would coax any kind of reaction from me, though. I was immune by this point. “Jack has been posting pictures of me and my cell phone!” he whined again. Also, again vague. “Well, it is an attractive cell phone,” I answered him, still not looking at him and still retaining that exasperated tone of voice that I know he hates. “I mean...” here he blushed and stammered adorably, and I had to turn to look at him, “he edited pictures of me doing things with my cellphone while the setting was on vibrate...” he insinuated, looking away as I finally looked to him. “AHAHahahahahaaaa...” I practically screamed. That sounded just like something Jack would do with his free time and just immature enough that it made me crack up. However, even I had to admit that it ended as a somewhat nervous laughter. It was just so loud and cracking in the empty air left by Remy's stunned silence. I do give it to him, though. He recovers quick. “It is not funny!” he yelled, indignant, as he jumped to his feet to beg his frustrations to my uncaring ears. “Now everyone thinks I'm some kind of nasty pervert!” “Are you not?” I asked, smiling up at him seductively. Unlike most other people that touched me, I enjoyed Remy's touch. It felt cleansing and forgiving and as kind as it had always been. “That sounds like a pretty naughty question...” he said, smiling back in the same manner. Finally, finally he had learned lust from sarcasm ! Praise the Lord! “ARTEMIS!” I heard Juliet yell, just as Remy began to lean his face towards my own. Fucking God-damned whippersnappers... ((Such profane language! D)) Thankfully, just as I was about to rush from my place on the ledge of the large open picture window to find something very heavy to hit Juliet over the head with, a refreshing breeze came through the huge picture window, stirring my hair into my face and chilling me just enough to elicit an adorable little sneeze. Thus, the mood was ruined. “Gesundheit,” Remy said, already pulled back and seated beside me on the cushioned ledge. “Artemis!” Juliet yelled once more. “Butler's back! Hurry!” came her ecstatic cry and all remnants of my irritation were swept away by the black anger that I had been nursing for the past few days, since I learned of where exactly Butler was. America. He had traveled all the way to America on some wild goose chase while I was mercilessly tortured by that pathetic mockery of a human being. Many times he had attempted to contact me through the hospital, house, and cellphone. However, I refused to answer any phone until someone else picked it up and told me who it was. I refused to have this conversation over the phone. The phone did not have near the same impact as face to face chewing outs. I wanted to make sure this was as bad of a chewing out as Butler would ever get at my hands. “Don't you want to go down and see him? I can help you down the steps?” Remy offered, sounding and looking concerned as he pushed himself up onto his feet and offered his hand to me. I made no move to accept. “No,” I said after a moment. “He can come to me,” I explained quietly, the venom already plain in my voice. “...Okay,” Remy complied, yet remaining standing. “Should I go, then?” he asked, a little awkwardly, scratching the back of his head and looking around the room so that he would not have to look at my cold expression, I supposed. “I am sorry. Would that be too much trouble?” I asked, allowing my expression to soften slightly, as I looked up at him and nodded my head towards a door to my left. “No, no trouble,” he answered, leaning down to stroke my cheek just once, before he turned and left. Alone I did sit, for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably much closer to five or ten minutes. It seemed that the reaper of time had wedged his sickle into the very working of the grandfather clock positioned directly across the room from me, preventing the minute hand from moving any faster than the hour hand. Oh, how the mind likes to trick itself into much more romantic and tragic ideas... Sigh. After that uninterpretable time had passed, I watched a reluctant and pale Butler enter my room, bowing his head slightly and approaching without a word, but with downcast eyes. “Butler...” I said, quietly, but dripping with the icy venom of the hurt he had caused me. “I do not suppose you have an explanation?” I asked, simply, going straight towards what we both knew had caused the tension that permeated the room. “Master Artemis... I...” Butler stumbled for words. It was the first time I had seen/heard him do such a thing. His face betrayed the turmoil within him and the pain that writhed just beneath the surface. However, I felt no sympathy for him. How many times had Cromsworth wrung that very expression from myself? “What is your explanation...” I began once again, striding forward and thrusting my now unbandaged and mutilated wrists beneath his gaze, watching his face intently as he flinched back, his face a mask of horror untamed, “for this?” For a long moment, I watched Butler struggle, trying to look away and unable to. Finally, ripping his eyes with noticable difficulty from the deep and straight stitched lines around my wrists he began his explanation. “Uh! I'm so sorry, Artemis! I got a tip! I was told that he had smuggled you into the United States!” Butler blurted out, trying his best not to flinch away from the scarred hands that were still held precariously close to him. I let my hands drop, disgusted. “And that is why I was left for days with that man? That was why you were not there to even attempt to look for me when I was not even five miles away? That is why I had to depend on Remy to save me!” I yelled, infuriated by my bodyguard's supposed incompetence. The intelligent part of my mind was telling me that my kidnapper had probably set false leads all over the place, but that just was not relevant. That just did not matter right now. “Sorry, I'm so sorry. There's no excuse...” he whispered, only barely audible. “No, there is not,” I panted, tired now, from screaming and getting myself so worked up to face such a pathetic opponent. Brushing past him, I was fully intending to leave him behind to brood. Eventually I would forgive him. Even in my rage clouded mind, I knew that. He was such a standard in my life, I probably would not be able to be mad with him for more than a week, though the tension would remain for many months before my trust would be his once more. “Artemis?” I heard him whisper, before a huge hand clamped down on my upper arm and yanked me back. “I'm sorry. Sorry,” I heard Butler whisper, as he caught me in a rib-breaking hug. Immediately, all of the horrors and fears of just a few days ago came rushing back with full force. I was trapped. He had me. Don't hurt, don't hurt me, please, no, don't, I don't want, please! No, no, no, no,no! With a reserve of strength I did not know I had, I slammed my hands against Butler's chest, pushing myself out of the suffocating embrace to stare at the bigger man with large haunted eyes. He was no longer just Butler, he was a giant of a man that could subdue me with a single finger. That terrified me. “Artemis,” he said, this time in a bewildered and hurt fashion. That did not really register, though. All that I was really thinking of was how to escape this situation with the minimal amount of foolishness, as there was a small piece of my brain that realized that Butler had meant no harm with the embrace, even if that was how my damaged psyche decided to interpret it. Striding in a determined fashion towards the door once more, I muttered as I passed, “Do not touch me,” and swept out of the room while clutching myself to stop the shaking that threatened to take over. When I exited, I slammed the door behind myself, falling against the door heavily as soon as it was shut. Breathing heavily, I started to regain my composure as best I could. I could not act like that my entire life, being scared of other's, being scared of other's touch. This could not go on... “Arty?” I heard from across the hall. Jumping a little, but recognizing the nickname, I looked up into eyes so very similar to mine. “Hello, Father,” I replied shakily, trying to push myself off the door, but finding the missing support too much. “Are you alright?” he asked, reaching out to take me by the arm and stopping when I unconsciously flinched away. “Sorry. I am alright...” I reassured him in a very disconcerting voice. Somewhat defeated the purpose, that. “It is fine, Arty. Come one, let me help you,” he said, smiling and taking my arm firmly, yet gently. Feeling at peace with his firm steady guidance, I leaned into his assistance a little more than necessary and let myself relax. Father lead me out onto the one balcony on the whole Fowl estate. The one that he had built for Mother, when he had married her. It was furnished with intricately welded Victorian style tea tables and chairs. A flock of small sparrows ate out of a plate of breadcrumbs left on the wide railing, taking off in a flutter of movement and shocked cheeps as we approached. It was one of the most beautiful places on the whole Fowl estate and offered a breathtaking view of the town below, nestled nicely in the resident valley. I knew well how deeply Mother and Father loved this place. “Take a seat,” Father said, sitting me down in one of the white tea chairs, then seating himself opposite of myself. “Arty...” he began, taking a deep breath and a small pause to gather together all of his thoughts. “What happened back there, with Butler?” he asked, watching my face intently. “I ... yelled at him. For going to America,” I said, greatly simplifying what had happened, but still telling the truth. I did not want to lie to my father, but I also did not want to discuss what had just happened. I was not quite ready to admit to myself how deeply the whole even with Cromsworth had affected me. “Is that all?” he asked, his eyes twinkling keenly. He was much smarter than what his kind nature would belie. “He did not make any unforward advances towards you?” he asked, still watching my reaction closely. A little too closely. “What do you mean, 'advances'? He ... grabbed me and embraced me. It took me off guard, so I became a little flustered. That is all,” I said, telling the truth, but toning it down much more than actual happening had been. “I will have to address this...” Father said, rubbing his temples with his index and middle fingers, as he often did anymore. Ever since he had come back from the arctic... “Do you have a headache?” I asked, concerned. Those headaches of his always worried me. I had watched him once pass out from the pure pain that those migraines could cause him. “Yes, but that is not important right now. Listen, Artemis, I want you to be careful around Butler from now on,” he said firmly, checking my facial expression quickly before closing his eyes again, concentrating on willing the pain away, I surmised. “I do not understand your motives,” I said quietly, not wanting to aggravate his obvious discomfort any further. “Why would Butler be dangerous?” I asked, innocently wanting to know. Father had always been good friends with Butler. I wondered if the recent incident had caused him to re-evaluate his view on the bodyguard. “If you do not already know, then I would not want to distress you any further with the information,” he said simply. Cryptically. “Now, would you be so kind as to get me my painkillers. I believe this might become a bad one...” he grunted out, attacking his head with his knuckles now. “Of course,” I said, getting up and rushing as much as I could in my own weakened state to Father's quarters. I did not know what he meant, but I knew it could not be good. Not for anyone. - - - - - Authoress Note: Oh my. Well most of you probably guessed why Butler grabbed Artemis and why Arty's dad warned him against Butler, but I won't ruin it for those of you who haven't figured it out. Myep, I'm a getting to the end of this story, but there's still a lot of crap that needs dealing with (namely Cromsworth). Don't worry, I really really promise that it will be dealt with, no matter how much you think I won't. Thanks for reading. Much love, Sleepy.