Hey guys! I've been reading a lot of songfics lately so I decided to try one out with a fandom that I haven't written for before, so let's see how it turns out! The song is "Do Me a Favour" by Arctic Monkeys. My beta's pretty busy at the moment, so all mistakes are mine. I hope you enjoy!
And do me a favour and ask if you need some help
Helga Pataki came to school on Monday with a black eye and a bad story.
Arnold wasn't surprised. He knew the truth. All weekend he hadn't been able to get the image of Bob Pataki beating the daylight out of his fifteen year old daughter out of his mind. He'd seen it through their dusty living room window with his own eyes, and when Helga came running out of the house, she begged him not to call the police, assuring him that it was a "one-time thing" and her father was "really nice to her". Arnold had trouble believing both of the statements, but what did it matter? Bob Pataki, no longer a street corner beeper vendor, had taken his business nationwide. The Pataki family was popular, rich, and to the most of the gullible souls in the city, the image of a perfect American family. Nobody would believe him if he told.
When Arnold saw Helga walking alone in the hallway, he stopped her. "Can I talk to you for a second?" Helga stared at him. "What do we need to talk about, Arnold? This had better not be about Saturday night, because if you say one word about it, I'll kick your football head from here to the middle of next week."
Arnold rolled his eyes. "Drop the act, Helga. I know what I saw, and I know you were lying to me." She turned away, crossing her arms over her chest. "Doesn't matter if I was lying or not. It doesn't affect you. Why do you care anyway? It's not any of your business." He placed his hand on her arm gently. "Yes it is, Helga. I won't be able to rest until I'm sure you're going to be okay."
She said "Do me a favour and stop flattering yourself"
"Try harder," she spat, yanking her arm away. "I don't want or need your sympathy. I can take care of myself." She pulled her backpack up on her shoulder and stormed away.
And to tear apart the ties that bind, perhaps "fuck off" might be too kind
By Wednesday, Helga had two new bruises and Arnold was very close to telling his grandparents about it.
"When are you going to tell someone?" He asked her during lunch. "I'm not going to tell anyone about anything," she retorted, drinking her soup out of her plaid Thermos. "I don't have anything to say." Arnold slammed his fist on the table, receiving a few worried stares. "Damn it, Helga! I'm trying to help you but you're treating this like a fucking joke! Don't you understand how serious this really is?" She narrowed her eyes. "Arnold, I'm going to say this one more time. Keep your pale ass out of my business if you know what's good for you. I don't have the best dad, but he sure as hell isn't the freak you're making him out to be. Maybe you should stick to finding your own damn parents instead of trying to fix mine."
That was a low blow, even for Helga. Before she could apologize,Arnold's eyes lit up with rage. "Fuck off, Pataki," he snapped, shoving his trash into her lap and storming away.
Perhaps "fuck off" would be too kind
Helga didn't show up on Thursday. Arnold tried not to notice. It didn't work.
"Have you seen Helga today?" He asked Gerald. His face turned solemn. "I think she's in the hospital. Her old man really did a number on her on Wednesday night. You haven't heard?" Arnold gulped. Wednesday night. If he had contained his anger just one more day he might have been able to save her…
"I think I'm going to take an early lunch." Gerald nodded. "Want me to come with you?" Arnold didn't say anything, picking at his fingernails. "I'll take that as a yes. Let's roll." He grabbed his car keys and followed Arnold out of the school.
Arnold insisted on driving, probably breaking every traffic law there was to get to the hospital as fast as he could. He managed to take three parking spots, left the driver's door open and knocked over a vase on his way inside. "Pataki," he gasped, resting his forehead on the reception desk. "She's not taking visitors right now," the nurse said cooly, focusing on painting her nails. "No, no no. I need to see her right now!" The nurse narrowed her eyes. "If you're not family, you're not getting in. That's that."
"We're her cousins," Gerald said suddenly, stepping forward. "I'm adopted, he's biological." The nurse sighed. "Fine. Room 1996. Have a nice time, kinfolk."
Arnold practically bolted down the white hallways. "Slow down!" Gerald called. He didn't.
He was running and running until he reached her room at the end of the hallway, shoving the door open. There she was, her black eye getting worse, her arm in a sling, her legs covered in bandages. He tried to hold himself back from her but he couldn't, rushing to her bed and enveloping her in his arms and she burst into tears because nobody, not even Phoebe or her perfect sister came to visit her and she was starting to think that she was going to have to die here without anyone and he cried because it made his heart shatter when he heard her sobs and he couldn't bear to stand to hear her in such pain.
"I told you I could help you," he whispered, burying his head into her soft blonde hair. She just smiled, not caring if he ribbed her about it forever. There'd be time for payback later. She was just happy he was there.