Disclaimer: I don't own HA, I don't claim to. If I did then the Pataki's would have been aired, and I wouldn't be stuck writing Fanfiction, now would I?

Author's Notes: Not much to tell her.
This is the culmination of realizing I forgot my anti-depressants for 3 days in a row, lack of sleep, lots of bad luck – and the song "Two beds and a Coffee Machine" randomly popping in to my head a few days ago. Perhaps this will be a prelude to "And what if I said I loved you?" if I can bring myself to revisit and rewrite.. (also, ignore the goofy formatting, having not published anything in a while I'm still getting use to the new FF.N editor, which I swear is a bigger pain than it use to be. :(

The silence in the house was deafening as the young blonde woman peeked in to living room.

She bent over, wincing at the movement to pick up the mirror that had fallen off the wall and cracked; what she saw in the broken reflection made her stop.

There, reflected in the many shattered pieces of the mirror, was the image of a woman, blood trickling down the side of her face, mixing with mascara and tears that fell.

One hand tentatively touched her face, at her cheekbone, and once brilliant cerulean eyes, now dulled by defeat stared back at her, and she set the mirror back against the wall and stepped over a broken vase.

She flinched when she heard him snore, and slipped upstairs without a sound. After cleaning herself up a little, she grabbed a backpack from the hallway. A couple of changes of clothes, hygiene products,
stuff for the baby and a couple changes of clothes for her older daughter.

A fistful of cash, her cell phone, and her car keys was all she grabbed from the bedroom before slipping into Olga's bedroom, gently woke her and told her to take the bag to the car.

Inquisitive eyes blinked sleepily and took the bag, and – quietly like mommy said – the 13 year old slipped downstairs and out the door.

Miriam cautiously glimpsed in to her 3 year old daughters room, and saw the girl staring at her through the darkness.

The girl, so strikingly intelligent, stared at her mother through piercing sapphire eyes in silence. It was almost as if she was taking in the damage to her mother, because suddenly tears welled in her eyes and she sniffled very silently.

"Momma, do you hurt?" the little girl's voice whispered in the darkness, a tiny melody that made the mother's heart ache.

"Its OK sweetie, everything's OK…we're going to go for a ride OK?"

"OK…" the girl mumbled sleepily as her mother picked her up, cradling her close. Tiny hands reached up and tentatively touched her mom's cheek before balling up into a fist as she tried – like a good girl – not to cry.

Miriam hushed her gently; wrapping her in a blanket and pulling a pink beanie over the girl's mane of sun kissed hair and slipped soundlessly out of the bedroom and the house.

She handed Helga to her sister, who promptly set her in the car seat and settled herself in the seat to her right. She wrapped the blanket a little closer to her sister,
and grabbed her own and curled up, listening to the gentle hum of the car as they pulled away from the curb.

Miriam wasn't sure how long she'd been driving, or where she'd gone, but she ended up back in Hillwood, a few blocks over from her own house,
and the weight of the notion of going home made her feel as if she was suffocating.

She pulled over and put the car in park, and the heaving sobs building in her chest for the past hour ripped free.
She tried to quiet herself, but that just seemed to make it worse.

She looked in the rear view mirror, and was once again greeted by the blazing eyes of her toddler, who stared at her sadly, but silent.

The little angel in the back, the little girl with the hair, tendrils of pure golden silk and baby blue eyes, made her mother's heart ache.
For her little Helga Geraldine knew, before she could even speak, the meaning of the words pain and sadness.

A light clicked on in the house they were parked next to and the mother and daughter became illuminated, in that moment Miriam wondered how she would protect her daughter, and why everything had to go so wrong.

"I'm pregnant…" she murmured looking at the confirmation note and pre-natal instructions the doctor handed her earlier. Her eyes glittered, and a feeling of elation spread through the young mother.
Yes, this may have been a second surprise but, already she felt attached to the little life growing inside of her belly.

She thanked the nurses as she set her next appointment, and drove to pick Olga up from school. She could hardly contain her excitement, and feared she may bust before she could tell her husband the news.
Her daughter chatted animatedly away as they drove home.

"Mommy, can I go play piano? Teacher gave me a new piece to play!" Olga's voice inquired happily and Miriam couldn't help but laugh at her daughters' enthusiasm.

"Finish your homework quick sweetie, as soon as you finish you can play. I'm sure your father would love to hear a new song!" with that the young girl hugged her mom eagerly around the middle and ran upstairs.

Miriam started dinner not long after, and began a mental note of everything she needed to do before her new little wonder joined the world. She tossed some diced onions into the sauté pan and as they started sweating she diced up mushrooms and got a steak broiling for Bob. A big hearty dinner would surely make him even happier about the news. She hummed 'hush little baby' softly as she danced about the kitchen.

Not more than an hour later Bob walked in the door, threw his stuff on the ground and traipsed into the kitchen, hearing his wife humming happily.

"What's got you all worked up?" he asked and kissed her forehead; a small 'oomph' escaped his lips as she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed.

"Oh, Bee I have amazing news!" she squealed and began setting the table. She pondered calling Olga down to tell her as well, but figured the "daddy-to-be" would want a moment to digest the news.

"The reps from Boston called and they want to accept the offer?" his eyes widened as he drew his own conclusion.

Miriam rolled her eyes and wiped her hands on her jeans, "No, goof, something even better than that!" she gushed and steered him towards his seat at the head of the table.

"Well what then?" he asked curiously.

"Well…oh I don't know how to put this…" she began pacing, trying to think of the perfect way, until she huffed in defeat.

"Miriam…."

"I'm pregnant!" she exclaimed, and Bob choked on the beer he'd just taken a swig of.

"What?" he gasped and pounded on his chest a couple times to help himself breathe.

"I'm 9 weeks along! I go back in for an ultrasound in about a month and a half, we can find out the sex of the baby then…"

"Pregnant, but I thought we'd been so careful?" He asked still in shock.

"Well, accidents happen honey…" the look in her husband's eyes weren't what she was expecting at all. He started to get a calculating look.

"We can't afford another kid Miriam, Olga's got all of her lessons: Piano, Violin, Dancing, Singing, Swimming.. and we were going to turn the spare bedroom in to a ballet room for her."

Each word that spilled from his mouth caused Miriam's elation to deflate ever so slightly.

"But, bee, what if it's a boy? You'll have someone to take over the Empire when you're ready to retire…" she tried another direction, and saw a spark of life in her husband's eyes.

"A boy…" the words rolled off his tongue slowly.

"We could name him after your grandfather… Christian Alexander Pataki…" Miriam prodded, searching for something in her lover's eyes, that she prayed she would see.

"Christian… he'd be a strong boy, like his father of course. Play lots of sports."

"Exactly!"

Bob stood up and pulls his wife into his arms, "we're going to be parents to a beautiful baby boy."

And with that, the planning of the Pataki child commenced, and Miriam hoped that the dread she'd heard in his voice didn't come back to haunt her.

Unfortunately for her (or perhaps, for her unborn child) the sixteen week period hit, and the sex of the baby had been revealed.

A baby girl, another daughter; and not a son like they (well, he) had hoped.

And from that day forward Miriam Pataki felt the reality of her life sinking in; the brutal truth.

Her world was shattered when they got home that day and he demanded she abort.

Those words tore a hole in her heart and made her stomach lurch.

It had been the first day of many that Miriam and Bob would fight, but not the first that Miriam would regret not standing up to her husband.

A decision she made that would forever follow her, that she could never go back and change.

The door to the house swung up and Miriam watched as a young couple stood in the doorway staring at her questioningly.

A young man with cornflower yellow hair, and a young woman with beautiful auburn hair and the most unusual green eyes peered out.

Miriam sighed sadly, turned the car off, and pulled her drowsy toddler out of the car, as the man grabbed a peacefully sleeping Olga out of the other door.

She noticed the couple exchanging glances out of the corner of her vision and felt the shame seep in to every pore of her body.

Clutching her baby for dear life she followed the couple into the house and thanked them softly as they showed her to the room that had become 'hers' over the couple of years they'd known each other.

At firs they'd tried to get her to go to the cops, or leave him. But Miriam was adamant that things would get better, that Bob was just going through a rough patch at work,
and everything was usually an accident. But even she had a hard timing swallowing those stories after the first year or so.

The bitter taste of copper made her cringe as she realized she'd been biting her lip so hard she'd drawn blood.
The young couple explained to her that their parents (the owners of the place) had basically reserved that room for her until she no longer needed it – or until she desired to make it a permanent home.

It wasn't much, she mused gazing around at the floral wallpaper in the darkness, and the faded sheets that now covered her slumbering daughter.
The room was bare, save for two double wide beds and a night stand between them. She smiled gently at the coffee machine, and mug sat waiting for her,
as well as a small refrigerator for some food and liquid for the girls. She refused to let go of Helga, and it seemed to her, as if the young girl refused to let go of her as she crawled in to bed.
Shifting herself gingerly, to avoid the worst pain in her left side, she lay on her right arm, and cradled her daughter in her arms.

Tears stung her eyes as she saw her baby girl, porcelain skin bathed in moonlight. It was as if at that moment, as she kissed her daughter goodnight and shut her eyes, that she felt herself losing control.

It as if she could almost sense the years of…pain and suffering she and her daughter would endure; as if she could see the tender link she held to her daughter frayed.
She wouldn't be strong enough to protect her; sure she would try, but facing the truth – she couldn't even protect herself; she'd long since learned that she was Bob's possession.

She no longer knew who Miriam was, all she knew was that she was no longer the woman she'd been born. She was a shell of herself, a pitiful excuse of a human being.
She knew life would be rough, the last three years had been a living nightmare, and she wondered how her children got through it.

Tears streamed down her face, pooling in her hair and the pillow beneath her face as she chanted apologies, prayers and pleas for her daughter to never forget the love her mother held for her.

And yet, Miriam Pataki knew, as sleep started to envelope her, that the words she uttered were only echoes of shattered dreams and broken promises,
because tomorrow was going to come and while she wanted dearly to stay away, oh how dearly she wanted to stay gone…

The two angels in the room were the dim reminder that she had responsibilities, and Olga loved her daddy so much.

Maybe one day she'd be strong enough to break free.

Maybe one day Helga would know how much she was loved.

Maybe Bob would see what a blessing his youngest daughter was…

Or at the very least, Helga wouldn't turn out like her.

"When you grow up sweetie… please be brave for mommy. I love you so much… you'll make it…" she murmured through a sigh.

"Escape one day, for me…."

And she would. That little girl would grow into a young woman, as broken and hurt as her mother, but she would have something her mother didn't.
She would have the strength to persevere; to break free of her nightmare.

What the toll would be for that strength and determination, Miriam knew not.

All she could do was pray that her daughter would grow, and learn, and find love – true love.

She prayed that love would empower her to make decisions that would lead her away from this life.

Sadly, she also prayed that she would live long enough to see the day it happened.

Ending Notes: Some may wonder why I made Helga out to be so "mature" for her age. I was that way as a little girl. I spoke my first words at 5 months, and by age 3 I was speaking like a (very very very little) adult. I figure, with everything Helga's probably already gone through – that she was already very grown up, as if the episode Helga and Arnold met wasn't proof enough.

As per usual, flame if you wish – it's a blustery -4 out, flames would be warmth, and a possible roasted marshmallow too much on.