Yay! So just what I need: another story among all of my other unfinished stories. But, I have been regularly updating them (sorta...half of them) so I am rewarding myself by finally posting this one that has been knocking around in my imagination. Originally was going to be only a Phil and Gertie story, but I daydreamed too much and it grew. I hope you enjoy!

disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold or its characters. I am writing this story only for entertainment purposes. I make no profit from this story.

Helga regretted rapping her knuckles on the wood of the peeling green door the second the noise sounded. She wanted to run. She wanted to run so badly, but instead, she stood awkwardly on the stoop in one of her nicer dresses, a three-quarter sleeve maroon skater dress that Olga had insisted on buying for Helga after she insisted on Helga trying it on when they had gone on a shopping trip for what Olga had insisted were things for herself, but the entire time she kept pushing things onto Helga.

"You know, for when you have a special occasion. Don't look at me like that, baby sis, I know you'll find the right time to wear it—not that you need an excuse for me to dote on you. It just looks so splendid on you with the color of your eyes and your hair," she had gushed in response when Helga had inquired as to why she would need such a piece of clothing that very second.

So here she was, wearing this dress and waiting on the stoop to pay respects to a grandfather on his deathbed who also happens to be the grandfather of the then boy now man she had loved since before she had many other memories. Said man, by the way, was the same one that she hadn't seen for over a year following an argument where she had said some terrible, defensive things and hadn't been able to bring herself to share the same space with him since. Was this special occasion enough?

Helga jumped lightly at the sound of the old wood scrubbing together as the door opened. Thankfully no cacophony of pets bounded in or out of the building and all that stood in the doorway was the tall, slim frame of the boy now man.

His green eyes were rimmed lightly pink with bags beneath, like he had been awake all night or crying. 'Maybe both.' She squirmed self consciously under his surprised gaze, which was owlish with too much stupefied blinking in her opinion.

"Helga," he said with an astonished breath. God, how she had missed that warm, resonant tone of his voice that washed over her like afternoon sunshine. Her eyes drank in his face in. A year had gone by, and his hair didn't even look different. Helga felt relieved. For some reason she was afraid he would have went and gone through huge life changes and she would have missed them because she was too proud and too embarrassed to face him.

Helga caught herself rubbing her own arm in a habit that always clearly showed her discomfort and immediately shoved both of her hands behind her back. She had meant to clasp them together to keep herself from fidgeting, but ended up twiddling her fingers.

Noting that the awkward silence had now drawn on because of her, she cleared her throat and called out to him, "Hey, Arnold."

Arnold stood there for a beat longer, hand still on the knob as if he didn't know how to process her presence, but seemed to quickly remember himself and stepped back, opening the door wider. "Come in."

"Thank you," Helga murmured as she moved passed him into the foyer. She turned to look over her shoulder at him as he closed the door behind them, locking out the autumn chill. "How is he?"

His face shifted from polite to melancholic in an instant, and Helga swore she could feel physical pain in her heart to see him like this. She wanted to cross the space between them and take his hand-no, take him in her arms, hold him, but instead she stayed glued to her spot waiting for his answer.

"Oh, uh, he's...not doing so great. He's been in bed for a few days, really weak, hardly eating." Helga pressed her lips together and nodded with an awkward head bobbing motion that looked slightly like a chicken. "And your gramma?"

He smiled a bitter smile. Helga's heart wailed, 'Arnold smiled bitterly.' "She hasn't left his side, of course. Actually, I was coming down to fix some food for us, see if they'll eat. Would, uh..."

He looked slightly uncomfortable and Helga waited patiently for him to finish.

"Would you…mind going up and sitting with them?" Helga couldn't help but raise her eyebrows at the request. She had gotten so much better at not bottling up or disguising her true emotions that sometimes it was hard to control them again. Dr. Bliss was much more satisfied with heart on sleeve Helga, and honestly so was Helga.

She hadn't realized how exhausting it was to disguise most of her positive feelings. She also hadn't realized that most of the things she enjoyed back then—monster truck rallies, WrestleMania—where people were being outwardly aggressive made her feel somewhat normal and laughing at Rats with Bob hadn't really been them bonding, it had been her scorning the healthy release and recognition of emotions, because outwardly expressing her real feelings made her feel vulnerable and weak.

In contrast, her writing she also enjoyed as a child, but with such a different connection that any match where muscled doofs beat the snot out of each other. Her writing had conveyed her most (special- Mr. Simmons) sensitive self. All of Helga's raw passion she had vomited onto so many pages over the years and it took her quite some time to come to the conclusion that she was hiding not only her feelings for Arnold, but also everything else, even from her best friend, Phoebe. All of her was written on those pages, a lot of hurt (neglectful parents, taunting classmates), a lot of longing (a better relationship with her sister, a more equal friendship with Phoebe, if not love then an actual friendship with Arnold, the list went on).

Arnold took her surprise negatively and simultaneously backtracked and apologized. "I'm sorry, you don't have to. That was a weird thing for me to ask. You can wait for me to go up. Did you want anything to eat, I can make you something too?" His words were starting to jumble together, and Helga reached out to touch his arm before she had conscious recognition of her actions.

She tried to keep her voice from trembling as she quickly reassured Arnold, moving her hand from his arm to his back and rubbing in a soothing manner, "No, it's alright. I was just surprised was all, really. I will go on up."

He let out a huge sigh, and Helga watched his broad shoulders and chest relaxed as his lungs deflated as well as felt the tension leave his muscles she tried not to notice through his shirt. 'Keep it together, Pataki. Not the right time.'

Arnold nodded and started to plod down the hallway in socked feet, but turned as he remembered, "Did you want anything to eat or drink?" Helga clasped her hands in front of her and shook her head, smiling gratefully. There was no way she could consume anything, not when she felt like she was felt so nervous that she could hurl at any given moment.