Giving Up

By Cybra

A/N: I finally saw Hey Arnold! The Movie! Yeah, yeah, I know. "What the heck took you so long, Cybra?!" Well, I can't drive, and by the time I got the chance to see the film, it was out of theatres! Curses! But I rented it and I'm going to buy it! Huzzah! Anyway, I'm surprised no one used this particular scene! You always get the romantic or semi-romantic post-movie story. Huh. Still, here's my story in all its assumed glory!

Disclaimer: Craig Bartlett is the genius behind Hey Arnold!, not me. whine, whine, whine

"Where's the document?" Deep Voice demands of me.

'Where's the document, Arnold?' some voice in my mind sasses. 'Where is that all-important document that everybody in the neighborhood's future depended upon?'

I sag against the wall next to the payphone, closing my eyes in defeat. "He burned it!" I answer both to Deep Voice and the mocking voice in my head. "Scheck burned it!"

I still see the madness in that corporate jerk's eyes as he brings his lighter up to the paper. I can still smell the scent of charred paper. His laughter still rings in my ears.

I want to curl up in a ball and start crying. I failed them all: Grandpa, Grandma, the boarders, Mr. Green, Mrs. Vitello, Stinky, Sid, and countless other people. Right when they needed me the most, I failed them. If only I'd been that much faster, I could've stopped him!

My heart clenches in agony. No, it's not the simple fact that I failed that torments me. It's the fact that my blundering has just reduced the hopes and dreams of my friends and neighbors to a smoldering pile of ash.

How ironic. I, the one my friends always turn to for help, dropped the ball when it really mattered.

The small victories I've had in the past for solving people's problems seem so petty now. In the end, those small successes couldn't counteract what I've just done.

'Arnold, you imbecile, look what you've done…' I moan in my mind.

"Don't give up, Arnold," Deep Voice tells me, trying to renew the flame of fight in me.

But it doesn't work. I don't think I even have the willpower to run from the guards anymore. I can hear them in the distance even now, and I know they're getting closer, but it doesn't really matter.

I lost.

Scheck won.

And all of my neighbors will lose their homes and businesses because of my failure.

"Why not?" I say to Deep Voice, my voice as listless as my body. "It's over."

There isn't an ounce of fight left in me. In a few minutes, I'll be caught and brought before Scheck.

I should be madder than Mr. Pataki was when Helga lost the spelling bee at the thought of standing before Scheck again. Yet the image of myself as I am now imprisoned by Scheck doesn't anger me in the slightest. The certain knowledge of him gloating over me and even a few imagined verbal barbs don't affect my spirit at all.

All that matters is that I might as well have burned the document myself for all Gerald's and my hard work did.

If there is some sort of divine deity out there, kill me now to spare me the disappointed looks on my friends', family's, and neighbors' faces.

"It's not over!" Deep Voice insists. "There must be something! Aren't there copies?"

If I had the energy to, I would applaud Deep Voice's attempts to bolster my spirits. It sounds like something I would've done if I'd been in his…her…Deep Voice's position.

But Deep Voice has got to be kidding me. Scheck? Make copies of a document that could ruin his plans? Only a fool would do something like that.

I tell Deep Voice, "No. He wouldn't make a copy…"

Something in the back of my mind tells me to think for a minute. Those few minutes leading up to when Scheck burned the document return to me.

And two sentences stick out in my mind. Scheck's own words:

"There are cameras everywhere! I record everything that goes on, day and night!"

All of my guilt-laden thoughts flee to the back of my mind.

He had placed cameras everywhere.

And he recorded everything that goes on in this building.

Now my mind almost completely grinds to a halt.

'He copied the document, all right! Unintentionally on a blasted video tape!'

A small smile begins to form on my face.

'And he recorded himself burning it!'

An unholy glee bubbles up within me. 'Scheck, you practically gift-wrapped my answer!'

I can't give up now! I still have one last chance!

'And I swear that this time, Scheck, you're going to lose…'