Summary: She spent her entire childhood trying to convince him that they were meant to be… at age 73, it's his turn.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hey, Arnold! or any relating plots or characters.

Author's note: Hello, everyone! So, this is my first Hey, Arnold! story ever, inspired by the works of the wonderfully talented Azure129. If you haven't read her stories, trust me when I say that you're missing out. Go read her stories (after you read and review mine of course, hahah)!

Come Back to Me

By Ardent Ly

"If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life." – Oscar Wilde

"… So sleep, my flaxen haired angel / as the night stars weave you sweet dreams." The oval-headed man finished with a wistful sigh, delicately closing the worn pink notebook resting on his lap. He pushed his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose, eagerly awaiting the reaction from the woman sitting on a wingback chair across from him.

With her gnarled hands held over the center of her chest, his companion made her own sound of appreciation, and while it was not the response he was hoping for, he couldn't deny the warmth that spread across his chest. "That was exquisite, Arnold! I'm definitely adding that one to my list of favorites. The imagery and the metaphors were so moving! Are you sure it was written by a ten-year-old?" A gray brow rose in scepticism.

"By the looks of the date, she was nine when she wrote it." He answered, briefly flipping back to the yellowed page. Looking up at her again, he warmed even further when he saw her lined face stretched with a small smile.

"Amazing… and you're sure that all of these poems were written about you? You're not just tootin' your horn, now are you?" At that, he gave a hearty laugh.

"Yes, they really were meant for me." He ran his palm up and down the torn spine of the book, seeking comfort in the knowledge that another set of hands once lovingly stroked the binding. "She filled dozens and dozens of books with poetry all meant for me, something I didn't know about until I was about fifteen." A look of melancholy washed over his features and a forlorn sigh escaped him before he could swallow it. Taking a moment for himself, he opened the book to the front page, where the writer's name was printed in elegant cursive. With a quivering finger, he traced it, following every line and loop until he reached the flourished end. Unconsciously, he placed a hand over his aching heart.

"It sounds like the girl was hopelessly in love with you." She stated simply, toying with the ends of her silvered hair. Taking a moment, she tightened the tattered ribbon that pinched her hair together, adjusting it so that it rested in the junction between her neck and shoulder.

"Yes, she was." He replied just as simply.

"Did you love her back?" She asked, her curiosity peaking. She inched closer to him until she was at the edge of her seat.

With a glowing grin that served to make him look younger than his years, he said, "More than she'll ever know."

With a satisfied look, his companion nodded her head in approval. "I'm glad. The girl sounds like she would make a good match for you. Now tell me, was it love at first sight?" She was quick to defend herself as he shot her an amused look. "Oh, give me a break, Arnold! The only forms of entertainment in this joint are Bingo Tuesdays and when Rosie thinks she's lost her glasses when really they're sitting on her head!"

He chuckled once more, though this time his laugh was laced with that of another. "Glad to hear that I'm so entertaining." The pair of them turned to find a smirking nurse standing by the doorway, her hands resting on her generous hips. "I figured that I would find the two of you here, but never did I think that I would walk in on you two gossiping about me!" She feigned an indignant look.

"You know I only do it to my favorites, toots! Count yourself among the lucky few!" The gray-haired woman gushed, trying to sooth the nurse.

"Yeah, yeah..." Rosie scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully. "Anyways, it's time for lunch, Miss Gossip Queen. We'll be having soup and sandwiches today. Will you be joining us again today, Mr. Arnold?" The kindly nurse inquired.

"If you don't mind, Rosie, dear. I would hate to have to go home already, now that I'm in the presence of two gorgeous young ladies." He tossed his companion a playful wink, who was struggling to hide her giggles.

The nurse made no such attempts and let out a string of chuckles.

"You ol' charmer, you! You know you're always welcome here. Come along then, I'm sure you're both famished. We'll be eating in the Sun Room today, now doesn't that sound lovely?"

"Oh, Rosie, you know me all too well." The aged woman shakily stood from her seat, her weak knees threatening to collapse from underneath her. Holding a hand out to stop Rosie from approaching her, Arnold tucked his beloved pink book under his arm and slid the other around the struggling woman's waist for support. She leaned heavily against her new crutch, but couldn't resist the teasing remark that fell from her mouth. "This gorgeous young thing doesn't need any help from you, y'old geezer."

Playing along, Arnold gave her an incredulous look. "And lose my chance to walk around with you on my arm? Never! I'm not getting any younger you know, I need all the attention I can get!" His heart soared for the thousandth time that afternoon as her sweet laugh filled the air.

"You're a shameless flirt, old man. Come on, let's shake a leg. I don't want anyone taking our table." With her withered hand in his, Arnold began leading her down to the Sun Room. When they arrived, they immediately spotted Nurse Rosie waiting for them at the corner of the room, reserving a round table with two place settings. The stain-glass windows left rainbows on their plates, leaving little wonder why it was such a favorable spot. The couple weaved through the other tables occupied by other patrons of the room, occasionally nodding to those they knew. She thanked him quietly as she slipped into the chair Arnold so chivalrously pulled out, waiting until he sat himself down before unraveling her napkin and spreading it over her lap.

"I'll be back in just a moment with your meals. You two play nice now." Rosie teased before whisking herself away towards the kitchens.

"You know, you never answered my question, Arnold." His companion reminded, taking a sip of water. Though she refused to show it, Arnold could see that the short journey had tired her out. "I need something to gossip about the next time Pheebs come to visit. You remember her, don't you? I introduced you to her when she came by last week."

He fiddled with the corners of his own napkin. "I remember her. Sweet lady." Following her lead, he downed half his glass of water. "And no, it wasn't love at first sight. At least, not for me. She's loved since she was three years old – I didn't realize I loved her back until I was in my late teens."

"That must have been torture for her!" She exclaimed.

A fond look swept over his features. "She did a pretty good job at making sure she wasn't the only one getting tortured. She picked on me endlessly when we were in elementary school. Spit balls, pudding bombs, water balloons, there was even a time when she stuck feathers on my… um, chair area and went around calling me a bird all day." He confessed with an exasperated tone.

"So, she pulled the ol' pulling-on-their-pigtails tactic, huh?" She laughed, sounding impressed.

Arnold smiled at her analogy. "She was both my bully and my angel. She did so much for me, even if I didn't know it most of the time. She helped me find a friend's daughter once and saved my neighborhood from being bulldozed down. She even helped me find my parents when we were fifteen."

"I can see why you loved her," she answered honestly. Arnold's throat clogged with emotion as he recounted those memories, and he used Rosie's return as an excuse not to reply. With a brief "Enjoy, you two!", the nurse left them to their meals.

Silence stretched between the two with only the occasional sound of scraping cutlery interrupting it. Finally, the woman sitting across from him spoke. "Why are you here every day, Arnold? Not that I mind, of course, I love it when you come and read me poetry, but I'm sure you must have better things to do." For a moment, she regretted asking. There was a pained look in his eyes that she didn't like at all and it shattered her heart to the core.

Coughing uncomfortably, he broke their gaze. "I'm… here to visit someone."

"Visit someone?" She blinked. She hadn't been expecting that. "Well then, why don't you go meet them instead of wasting your time with me? I'm sure they're very eager to see you."

"They're… she's…not here right now."

The woman blinked, not understanding. "Not here right now?" She parroted once more.

"Yes. The person I came here to visit… she went away for a little bit."

"Oh, you poor man," She reached out and covered his hand with her own. "Why don't you go to her, then? I'm sure it's better than sitting around here just waiting for her."

His pained look intensified. "I can't. She's gone someplace I can't reach her… but I know that one day she'll come back to me. She promised that no matter what happened she would always come back. I just need to be patient, is all." He offered her a watery smile. "It took me years to come to my senses and realize how empty my life was without her, and I'll be damned before I let go of the most amazing person to ever enter my life."

She stroked the back of his hand comfortingly. "What an extraordinarily lucky woman. I hope she comes back soon, for your sake."

Looking straight into her eyes, he replied, "I hope so, too." There was a tense moment. Arnold searched the depths of her blue eyes desperately for a flash of recognition, but, just like the day before, he was left disappointed.

Clearing his throat, he rose from his seat. "I'll be right back, Helga. I just need to go wash my hands." He readjusted the knit afghan resting over her shoulders before heading towards the exit. Nodding, the woman went back to her soup.

Arnold wasn't surprised to find Rosie waiting out in the hall, suspecting that she was watching them from the very beginning. "Any luck today?" She asked eagerly, leading him through the halls though she knew it wasn't necessary. He had been visiting for months now and he could walk through the building with his eyes closed if need be.

"Not today," Arnold sighed dejectedly. "I've been reading some of her old poetry to her, just like her doctor recommended, but it doesn't seem to have helped any. Maybe tomorrow."

Rosie shook her head sadly. "Just remember not to get your hopes up too high. The doctor did say that the people with this disease normally don't recover."

"Thankfully, no one could ever accuse Helga of being normal," he jested, though there wasn't much heart behind it. He left the melancholy nurse then and slipped into the lavatories. He splashed some water onto his face and, feeling refreshed, went back to his ladylove.

"I'm back, beautiful. Miss me?"

And there you have it. What I failed to mention in my note above was that I was also inspired by the last few scenes of The Notebook, which I'm sure those who have seen the movie or read the book have already realized.

Anyways, I hope you all liked it! Review if you want a love like Arnold and Helga's and/or loved The Notebook!

~Ardie