I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited this story so far. The response that I have gotten is more than I could ever have expected and I am I very grateful for the response I've gotten. You have no idea how much it means to me!
Ok, this so chapter Helga's flu is a lot worse and the first part of the chapter may possibly make some people queasy, but I tried my best not to make it too descriptive or anything. I also had to do some research into how to lower a very high fever without medicine and I was actually surprised at what I read, so I was glad I did the research after all! I also incorporated a few things that people mentioned within their reviews in some form or another, which also includes the spelling of mom which was previous 'mum' which is the Australian version. I apologise for the confusion! I've never had to change it in my other fanfics because in them the characters are Vikings so the spelling doesn't matter as much. I was just used to that, that's all.
Now, this chapter focusses more on Helga and Stella than Helga and Arnold, but as her flu decreases, that will change next chapter. This chapter was more about her being taken care of than anything and I actually rather enjoyed the dynamic I wrote between the Helga and Stella. Helga is also a little bit more subdued and emotional in this chapter, but that's mainly because she's feeling so ill, but that'll change as she gets better.
Enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 2 – Love and Care
Helga tossed and turned, deep in sleep. A restless sleep, full of peculiar and confusing dreams. She was seated next to Arnold, and Phoebe, and Gerald, and all her other classmates in a new rollercoaster at Dinoland. The ride didn't seem to end. She had been around the circuit at least three times now, all of it being up-then-downhills and troughs - and it was all that she could do to keep her hands tight against her mouth to stop herself from vomiting all over everyone. She looked around, trying to get somebody's attention that something was wrong, but everyone didn't seem to notice her, their joyful yells and screams blotting out any sound she could have made. Right as she thought she couldn't hold it any longer though, Arnold turned to her.
"Hey, are you alright?"
Helga frantically shook her head.
"We need to get off!" she yelled over the rushing wind. "I'm gonna be sick!"
Helga suddenly snapped out of the dream like she'd been hit by lightning. She really was going to be sick; now. Her stomach churned violently as she groggily shambled out of her makeshift bed in an effort to find the door in the darkened room, all the while sweeping her hand across the wall urgently in search of a light switch. She could feel the bile rise swiftly into her throat, and before she knew it, suddenly emptied the pitiful contents of her churning stomach onto the floor.
"Oh, no," Helga uttered weakly, raising a shaking hand to her mouth as a wave of emotion began crashing over her like a wave at the beach. Tears filled the eleven year old's eyes as the remnants of the action burned in her throat, and as a sob ripped through her chest painfully, she was suddenly blinded by an unexpected light. She winced.
"Helga?" Arnold's voice was anxious. "Helga, are you…. oh…" Upon seeing the mess on the floor, the boy quickly glanced over at her sympathetically.
"I'm… I'm sorry, Arnold…" Helga said tearfully as Arnold swiftly got out of bed. "I… I didn't mean… it just happened so fast and-"
"It's okay, Helga," Arnold said gently, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. "It's not your fault. You couldn't help it."
"But… -" Helga protested weakly, "…but I barfed all over your floor."
"Don't worry about it," Arnold repeated softly, gently manoeuvring her over to the door. "Let's just get you to the bathroom."
"Arnold?" Stella's concerned voice drifted up the stairs. "Is everything alright up there?"
"Um… not really…" Arnold replied hesitantly, with a quick glance at Helga. "Helga's just been sick."
A sound of rushing footsteps reached the two kids ears, and before either of them could say or do anything, the door was suddenly whisked open to reveal Stella, whose attention immediately turned to Helga as soon as she entered the room.
"Oh honey, are you alright?" she asked gently, upon seeing the pallor of the young girl's cheeks.
"Just peachy," Helga drawled, as Stella wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders. "I mean, it's not like I just ruined Arnold's floor or anything." She threw a tentative glance over towards the mess.
"Don't worry about it, hon," Stella said kindly as she helped the trembling girl down the stairs. "It can easily be cleaned up. It's you I'm more concerned with."
"What's going on?" Miles stuck his head out the door at the commotion. "Is everything alright?"
"Helga's just had a little accident, that's all," Stella explained to her husband gently. "Her dinner didn't agree with her."
"Ah," Miles said, with a nod of understanding. "I'll go and clean that up, then."
"I'll help," Arnold said swiftly, gently taking his arm away from Helga's shoulders.
Helga snorted. "That's just what I wanted. For my boyfr… urgh… friend…to clean up after me." She chuckled weakly at the slip.
Knowing what Helga was about to say, Arnold's face turned a bright shade of pink, but made no move to address it. Now was definitely not the time.
"I don't mind, Helga," Arnold said kindly, throwing her a warm smile. "I just want to help."
Helga's face reddened slightly.
"I kn-" Pausing mid-sentence, Helga's eyes suddenly widened in horror.
Oh, crimeny, not again! Not now!
"Helga?" Arnold asked worriedly.
Unable to answer him, Helga suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth, before making a mad dash to the bathroom, slamming the door violently.
Helga's eyes streamed as her stomach contracted aggressively into the toilet, her chest and throat burning painfully at the acid that was layering it and her mouth tasted like bile. Reaching a shaking hand to her mouth, Helga gently collapsed onto the cold floor and closed her eyes as she leant up against the coolness of the porcelain behind her. Sweat broke out in large beads upon her forehead as a wave of exhaustion washed over the fragile young girl.
Crimeny, of all places to barf, I just had to do it in Arnold's room, didn't I?! she thought angrily. If I'd just gone downstairs like I should have, this never would have happened! Stupid! I'll be lucky if Arnold will ever want me here again after all this!
That very thought brought another wave of nausea over the girl, and she quickly leaned over the toilet once more, just as a rap sounded on the door, which was quickly opened to reveal Stella, who swiftly rushed over and dropped to her knees beside her. Helga felt the woman gently pull back a few stray strands of hair that had fallen dangerously in front of her face, before tucking them back onto their normal pigtails.
"Thanks," Helga said weakly, glancing up at the woman gratefully, before disappearing once more into the toilet as another wave of nausea hit her delicate stomach.
"Let it all out, honey," Stella said gently, rubbing small circles on the girl's back. "It'll pass."
"I don't want to let it all out," Helga moaned feebly as she re-emerged. "It's disgusting."
"I know," Stella said understandingly, pulling up a chair beside the frail young girl. "But your body is trying to get rid of something it doesn't want. Don't try and fight it."
Helga moaned. "I hate this."
Stella smiled softly. "It'll pass eventually, don't worry," the woman assured her, standing up from her chair to grab the thermometer from the cupboard behind her. "It's just going to get a little worse before it gets better, that's all."
"You sound like my sister," Helga mumbled, leaning up against the toilet bowl while there was a lull in the nausea. "Always trying to make things sound better than they are." She scoffed. "Heck, Olga is the only person I know that could find something good in being sick."
"Has she always been that optimistic?" Stella asked inquisitively, bending down beside the girl. "Hold still for a minute, hon," she said, placing the thermometer into the girl's ear.
"Pft," Helga scoffed, upon hearing the little machine beep. "Cheerful is Olga's middle name. The woman doesn't know the meaning of sad! She's enough to drive a person around the bend, she is." She glanced up towards Stella, who was looking at the temperature reading with a concerned look on her face. "Bad?" she asked.
"103.5," Stella confirmed, with a nervous glance in the girl's direction. "Any higher and I might need to put you into a bath. If that's okay with you that is," she added, seeing the surprised look upon Helga's face.
"Hey, if it will stops my head from feeling like an oven, I don't care what you do," Helga said quietly. She wiped an arm across her clammy forehead, before suddenly letting out a distressed moan once more.
"Oh, not again," Helga groaned, before once more vanishing over the rim of the toilet. Her eyes watered as she re-emerged a minute later, and sniffling, she reached up to scrub the wetness from her eyes.
"Here, hon," Stella said softly, passing the girl a glass of water. "Rinse your mouth out."
"Th… thanks," Helga said shakily, reaching out to take the cup, where she took a large swig of water and swilled it around her mouth.
A sudden knock on the door startled the two of them.
"No need to worry," came Phil's voice from outside the door. "It's just me. Can I come in or is little Helga still indisposed?"
Stella turned to Helga, who just gave a nonchalant shrug. Her nausea had subsided for now.
"You're okay, Phil," Stella said, and the door opened to reveal Phil, who quickly glanced over at Helga with a concerned glance crossing his weary face.
"Oh, you poor darlin'," Phil said sympathetically, taking in the young girl's pale face. "You look as if you've been in the wars."
"I feel it too," Helga mumbled in reply.
"I don't doubt it," Phil said, throwing her a kind smile. "And I thought you'd just like to know that you don't have to worry about anyone barging in on you. I just spoke to the others and they've all agreed to use the downstairs bathroom for tonight. Although if I'm being completely honest, I don't think Oscar will come within a ten mile radius of the place," he added, emitting an amused chuckle. "That's one way to keep him out of your hair anyway!"
"Thanks for that, Phil," Stella said gratefully, throwing her father-in-law a smile. "I know you didn't have too."
"Nonsense," Phil said, waving a hand at the woman's comment. "I wasn't going to have Arnold's little friend disturbed any more than she needs to be. Especially now." He threw the eleven year old a gentle smile. "You get better, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning."
Despite everything, Helga couldn't help but throw the elderly man a small smile in return.
"Thanks Mr Shortman," she said, as a wave of nausea suddenly engulfed her, causing her face to turn a nasty shade of green.
"That's my cue to go," Phil said quickly as he quickly stepped backwards and pulled the door shut behind him, just as Helga threw up for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
"This sucks," Helga said hoarsely as she sat up once more a few minutes later.
"I know it does, honey," Stella said gently, handing Helga the glass of water once more. "But there's nothing much we can go until it stops I'm afraid."
"You know, you don't have to stay in here with me, you know?" Helga said tetchily, as she accepted the glass off the woman. "Surely there's better things to do than watching me puke all night."
"That's not the reason why I'm in here, Helga," Stella said kindly as Helga passed the glass back over to her. "I'm here because your fever is high and I need to keep an eye on you. Everything else is just extra."
"Well, I'm fine, so there's no need to worry," Helga said irritably, crossing her arms in front of her chest; mostly to mark the fact that she was beginning to shiver. "I'll call you if my fever gets any higher. Just go back to bed."
Stella raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in the girl's tone.
"I'm not going to do that, Helga, so you might as well give it up," Stella said calmly, moving herself into a more comfortable position on the chair. "You're sick. I just want to make sure you're alright."
"I'm fine," Helga said stubbornly, despite her shivering, which she was trying desperately to hide. "I don't need anyone's help."
Another wave of nausea derailed her protests.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Helga said tearfully as her stomach contractions ceased. "How long is this going to go on for?"
"Not much longer, I'm sure," Stella said as she rubbed circles on the girl's back. "Just try to bear with it."
"I feel like death," Helga muttered, dropping her façade slightly as her arms drooped from their position over her chest. "And who opened a window?" she asked drowsily, looking around for the culprit. "It's freezing in here."
"There's no window open in here, hon," Stella said worriedly, quickly snatching the thermometer beside her. "I think the fever might be getting to you. Hang on." She quickly placed the little machine in the girl's ear, and within a few moments, it beeped, and quickly glancing down at the result, Helga watched as Stella's own face paled.
"That's it," Stella said anxiously, jumping out of her seat. "We're getting you into a bath. Your temperature is 104."
"Swell," Helga mumbled tiredly, as Stella quickly poked her head out the door, where she could be heard talking to someone down the hall, before making her way over to the bath where she swiftly turned the taps on, adjusting the water to the appropriate temperature.
"Come on, Helga, let's get you into the bath," Stella said, bending down in order to help the weary young girl up. "You don't have to strip all the way. Just down to your singlet and panties is fine. I'll get you dry clothes afterwards."
"I don't mind," Helga mumbled, pulling her pyjama top up over her head. "I mean, we're both girls."
"You can pull up your singlet when we need too, Helga, but it's not necessary," Stella said, helping the girl out of her pyjamas, then into the bath, where Helga shivered slightly at the lukewarm temperature, but quickly relaxed as Stella began quickly sponging water over her exposed skin.
"I thought you dunked people with a fever in ice water?" Helga asked drowsily, as Stella continued to work.
Stella glanced up at the girl in surprise.
"Is that what your parents do when you have a fever?"
Helga scoffed. "Heck, no," she said quietly, holding up her arm so Stella could run the sponge underneath it. "I don't think Bob and Miriam have ever done this." She frowned thoughtfully. "Most they've done is give me a few doses of Tylenol and come in to check on me." Helga frowned thoughtfully. "Actually, I think the last time I was sick, Olga looked after me. I can't remember the last time Miriam actually stayed with me in the bathroom when I was sick."
"And your father?" Stella asked quietly.
Helga shrugged. "I don't think he's ever done much more than give me a few doses of Tylenol. He's never been one for that sort of stuff."
Stella frowned. "So who looks after you when you're sick?"
Helga shrugged again. "I look after myself mostly," Helga admitted. "I mean, Miriam will bring me some medicine once she notices and will check on me every now and then, but other than that-"
"-you're on your own," Stella finished for her, throwing her a sad smile. "What about your sister?"
"Olga's been known to look after me even when I'm even slightly sick," Helga said irritably. "When she's home anyway," she added. "She actually looked after me last year when I had a stomach virus." She shuddered at the memory.
"That's very sad, Helga," Stella said softly as she continued to dab water onto Helga's skin.
Helga threw the woman a small smile. "Eh, don't worry about it," she said. "I'm used to it. It's just the way things are with them. And they have been known to come through when you need them. Sometimes," she added quietly, with a glance away from Stella, who smiled sadly at the girl in front of her.
"Helga, if there's anything we can do for you every once in a while, don't hesitate to ask, okay?" Stella said kindly. "I know Arnold will do anything for you."
Helga scoffed. "After tonight, I doubt he'll ever want to be around me again."
Not after I threw up in his bedroom anyway.
Stella threw the girl a sceptical look.
"You really think Arnold will stop wanting to be your boyfriend just because of a bit of sick on the carpet?"
"Even Football Head has limits," Helga muttered, before her brain suddenly caught up with her. "Urgh… I mean…" she stuttered, her cheeks reddening brightly as she spoke, "…why would you say boyfriend? I mean, just because I like the guy doesn't mean I want to go out with him!"
Stella chuckled. "It was just a slip of the tongue earlier then, was it?"
"You're darn right, it was!" Helga exclaimed, causing the girl to wince as the louds sounds reverberated through her aching head. Her hand shot up to her head. "Owww."
"Don't work yourself up, Helga," Stella chided gently. "I know you want to keep up appearances, but now is not that time."
"How would you know what I'm doing or not?" Helga snapped.
What did I say that for? Idiot! Even when I'm sick, I have to open my big mouth! Stupid!
"I'm sorry," Helga mumbled, throwing the woman an apologetic glance. "I didn't mean for it to come out that way."
"It's alright, Helga," Stella said. "But please remember, it's just me talking here. You don't have to hide from me."
"I know," Helga mumbled, quickly glancing down at the water lapping around her so as not to look at Stella's concerned face. "Huh," she said surprised. "What do you know? I think it's working."
"Are you feeling better?" Stella asked her, pulling out the thermometer in order to check her temperature.
"A little bit," Helga admitted as the device was placed into her ear. "I don't feel like my head's going to burst into flames anyway."
Stella smiled. "Well, you're half right," she said, bringing the thermometer into her line of sight. "102," she read aloud. "It's still a fever, but it's better than it was at least."
Helga raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Gee, who would have thought a bath of warm water would bring down a fever? You learn something new every day!"
Stella chuckled. "Actually, it's lukewarm," the woman corrected her. "But you're pretty close. Cold water would have just confused your body and made you feel worse."
"That so?" Helga said, genuinely interested. "Well, I've learnt something." She threw a grin up at the woman's direction, only for her eyes to widen in horror as a familiar sensation gripped her insides.
Oh, no, not again!
Realising what was happening, Stella quickly sprang into action, grabbing a bucket beside the toilet, and swinging it back, reaching Helga just in time for her to empty her bubbling stomach's contents into the bucket.
"Urghhhhh," Helga moaned, reaching up to push some loose hair off her sweaty forehead. "I thought that had stopped." She leant her head onto the coolness of the bath. "I just wanna go back to bed."
"I know, hon, I know," Stella said sympathetically, reaching over to put Helga's damp hair up into a loose ponytail to keep it out of her way. "But for now, let's get you out of here and I'll put down a pillow and blanket for you. Or are you comfortable staying in here a little bit longer?" she asked, seeing Helga's weary expression.
"I'll probably fall asleep if I stay in here," Helga admitted hazily as exhaustion began to take over her.
"Alright, let's get you out, then," Stella said, reaching out in order to help the young girl out of the bath, who couldn't even raise the energy to object, except to throw the woman a pointed glance as she clambered out of the bath and back to her spot beside the toilet, which she unfortunately used no sooner had she sat down.
"I never want to see another toilet as long as I live," the girl slurred as she leant her head uncomfortable against the rim of the toilet, before closing her eyes.
"I think that might present some problems," Stella quipped, earning her a tiny smile from the exhausted eleven year old's mouth, but she made no move to open her eyes. Even a sudden change in temperature, courtesy of a cold washcloth being placed upon her forehead, didn't startle her.
The last thing she remembered, despite another wave of nausea, was Stella's gentle hand running through her messy blonde locks as she drifted asleep.
Helga groaned as the sunlight hit her eyes. Rolling over, Helga buried her aching head into a pillow, trying to block out the outside world from returning her to full consciousness. Her mouth felt like cotton and her body ached all over as she lay there, debating as to whether or not she really needed to open her eyes or to keep on sleeping. She was too comfortable. Wait a minute. Comfortable?
Opening her eyes slowly, Helga swiftly raised her head, wincing slightly as the sunlight hit her bleary eyes, only to find herself tucked into a bed situated close to a window. Beside her, a glass of water and a thermometer stood on a bedside table, and a soft breeze was blowing through the window, which was opened just a few inches, moving the curtains situated over the window.
What the heck? What am I doing in here? I'm pretty sure I fell asleep in the bathroom last night!
Recalling back to last night, Helga swiftly directed her attention towards her stomach, which she was relieved to feel, was no longer bubbling away like a witch's cauldron and was feeling still and quiet for the first time since yesterday morning. Testing it out, Helga warily reached out for the glass of water beside her and took a sip and was relieved when the action didn't reignite her gag reflex. Reassured, she cautiously drank some more, which also stayed where it belonged.
"Oh, good, you're awake!"
Helga turned her attention towards the door where Stella was just entering with a relieved smile etched onto her face.
"Yeah, sort of," Helga mumbled, raising a hand to her aching head. "How did I get in here?"
"Miles brought you here after you fell asleep," Stella explained gently, sitting down on the bed beside her. "You hadn't been sick for a while, so I thought it was safe enough to bring you back to bed." She threw Helga a hopeful glance. "How do you feel now?"
"Well, I no longer feel like barfing every time I drink some water, so I take that as a good sign," Helga said as she lay back against the bed head. "But I still feel like I've run over by a truck."
"You still will for a few more days, unfortunately," Stella said sympathetically, pressing a hand to Helga's forehead. "You're right in the height of the flu, I'm afraid."
Helga snorted. "You don't need to tell me twice." Frowning thoughtfully, she glanced around the room. "What time is it anyway?"
"Around ten," Stella replied, as she got to work checking Helga's temperature. "You finally fell asleep at about three this morning."
"After the amount of times I barfed, it doesn't surprise me," Helga said with a shudder. "Chock that up to be one of the worst nights of my life."
"Yeah, well, it should be over now," Stella assured her. "If you haven't been sick after this amount of time, the worst should be over." She removed the thermometer from the girl's ear. "Still 102," she said, with a quick glance down at the screen. "But it's better than last night at least. I'll get you some Tylenol." Standing up from the bed, Stella glanced down at Helga with a smile. "Do you want to try some food?"
At the mention of the food, Helga's stomach grumbled loudly in reply.
"I'll take that a yes," Stella chuckled as Helga's face brightened with embarrassment beside her. "But we'll start on something light. How does a bit of toast sound to you?"
"Pretty good actually," Helga admitted. "And… um… how… how was Fo… I mean Arnold this morning?" she asked the woman nervously, her face barely masking her anxiety. "Was…was he-"
"He wasn't angry at you for throwing up in his room if that's what you're asking, Helga," Stella replied gently, causing Helga to breathe a sigh of relief. "Actually, I don't think the thought even crossed his mind this morning. He was more concerned about how you were. He wanted to say goodbye to you, but after the night you had, I thought it was best to let you sleep."
Helga blushed brightly.
He was worried about me! I haven't scared him off after all! Oh, what a kind, caring person my love is! She inwardly swooned at the thought.
Stella chuckled. "I'll go and get your toast sorted," she said, standing up from the bed. "Make sure you take that." She gestured to the half full medicine cup sitting beside the bed.
"Great," Helga said dryly, eying the cup in disgust. "Oh, and Stella?" She turned back to the woman nervously. "Th… thanks. For last night, I mean," she explained quietly, seeing Stella's perplexed look. "I know you didn't have to do it."
"It was no trouble, Helga, I promise you," Stella said gently, throwing the girl a small smile. "If it helps you, I'm happy to do it. But, Helga-" she continued, her expression serious, "-if you ever need someone to talk to or to do anything for you, don't hesitate to ask okay? Don't ever feel like you can't trust us."
"Well… actually… I already have a… a psychologist," Helga admitted nervously. "Dr Bliss. But I… I guess it would be nice for someone else to talk to. But that better not leave this house!" she added heatedly, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"I won't tell anyone anything you don't want me too, Helga," Stella assured her, unfazed by Helga's outburst. "I promise. It will stay just between you, me, Miles and Arnold."
"It better stay that way too," Helga replied. "I don't want anyone knowing my business."
"And they won't," Stella said kindly. "Now, drink up, and I'll be back soon."
"Swell," Helga mumbled, grabbing the medicine cup just as Stella left the room and glaring it at, before upending it in one swing. She shuddered.
"Should have just let the fever get me instead," Helga muttered after she washed it down with water. "Nasty."
Placing the glass of water back on the end table, Helga wriggled back down under the covers as comfortably as she could, before closing her eyes once more. She may have felt better than she did last night, not that that was hard to top, but it was still a far cry from being well. The eleven year's head and body still burned with fever, her head was pounding and her whole body ached with every muscle she used. She was exhausted, pure and simple.
"Knock, knock."
Helga opened her eyes to see Miles standing in the doorway, holding a tray of plain toast and a new glass of water, with a large smile etched onto his face.
"Oh, hey Miles," Helga said with a smile of amusement. "Stella got you waiting on me hand and foot now, does she?"
Miles laughed. "I guess you could say that," he said, upon entering the room, only to trip over a dent in the rug. "Woah!" Righting himself, he grinned sheepishly. "Well, that was almost a disaster," he said, gesturing to the two pieces of toast that had slipped slightly off the plates. "Nearly didn't have lunch." He placed the tray in front of her with a smile.
Helga chuckled. "And here I thought it was the flu that would get me, not lack of food."
"It's because of the flu that you don't have anything in your stomach," Miles pointed out as Helga cautiously picked up a piece of toast. "After last night, you need something to build your strength up."
"Don't remind me," Helga muttered. "Although I'm not the one who had to clean it up." She threw the man an apologetic glance.
"Don't worry about it, Helga," Miles said, waving her concerns off. "It happens. No harm done. And Arnold wasn't bothered by it either. He was just worried about you."
"Yeah, that's Football Head for ya," Helga said, causing Miles to chuckle at the moniker. "Always worried about others more than himself. Sap." She blushed lightly as she bit into the toast.
"A sap that wasn't scared off after what happened last night," Miles pointed out.
Helga smiled. "Yeah, true, I guess." She glanced down at the toast in her hand, before warily taking another bite. To her relief, her stomach didn't react.
"Just take it slow, and eat as much as you can," Miles said, standing up from the bed. "I'll come back to collect it later." Going over to the door, he tripped up on the same spot, before running into the doorway.
"Ow."
"I'd be careful if I were you," Helga said, throwing the man a grin. "Keep that up and you'll be as bad as me."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Miles chuckled. "Just ask Stella."
"Ask me what?" Stella's voice could be heard outside the doorway, before a giggle could be heard. "You tripped over the rug, didn't you?"
"Um… maybe?"
"Thought so."
Snorting loudly, Helga went back to her two dry pieces of toast, which, thankfully, were just what the doctor ordered. The toast was just bland enough that it didn't irritate her delicate stomach, and it was enough to make her feel better. Chewing through it slowly, Helga made sure everything was going to stay where it belonged, before taking a large swig of water, then lying back down as weariness began creeping over her once more as it clicked into early afternoon.
Throwing an arm over her warm head, Helga closed her eyes, and before she knew it, sleep had claimed her once more.
The sound of rustling woke Helga sometime later, and slowly opening her eyes, she squinted at the figure beside her, only to find Arnold placing something on her bedside table. Noticing that he had woken her, he threw her a sheepish grin.
"Sorry, Helga, I was trying not to wake you," he said apologetically. "I must have been louder than I thought."
"You probably weren't," Helga said, throwing the boy a grin. "For all we know, I have some sort of radar that can tell when you're around."
Arnold laughed. "Well, if that's true, I had no hope then." Sitting down beside her, he gave her a small smile. "How are you feeling?"
Helga shrugged. "I could be better," she admitted, glancing up at him from her place on the pillow. "But at least I'm not barfing all over the place."
"Mom said you weren't," Arnold said, his tone relieved. "I'm glad. You had a rough night."
Helga snorted. "You're telling me. I just hope your floor recovers." She threw the boy a nervous glance.
"Helga, it was an accident," Arnold said kindly, reaching out to place a hand over her own. "You couldn't help it."
"Yeah, well, it probably wouldn't have happened if I'd just come down here to sleep," Helga said, throwing the boy a pointed glance.
Arnold chuckled. "Helga, I knew you were faking it," he said simply.
Helga's jaw dropped. "Wh… how…. How the heck could you have possibly have known that, Football Head?!"
Arnold grinned sheepishly. "You're not as convincing as you think, Helga."
"Gee, thanks a lot, Arnoldo," Helga said, her cheeks burning brightly with embarrassment. "Why don't you just humiliate me even more?"
"I wasn't trying to, I promise," Arnold said gently, squeezing her hand in reassurance. "I just thought you were happier where you were, that's all. I never meant to embarrass you."
"Yeah, well, I shouldn't have done it either, I guess," Helga admitted hesitantly. "At least then I wouldn't have-"
"Helga," Arnold said firmly, instantly cutting off Helga's comment. "Don't worry about it. It's not the end of the world. I'm not going to stop liking you just because you got sick in my room."
"Think you know me so well, don't you, Football Head?" Helga remarked.
Arnold shrugged. "Well, I'm right, aren't I?" he asked quietly.
"Whatever floats your boat, Hair Boy," Helga replied coolly, despite a faint tinge in her cheeks giving her away. "Now, what's all this?" she asked, gesturing to the items on her bedside table.
"Oh!" Arnold exclaimed, diverting his attention back to the items he'd brought in. "Something from the class. Phoebe brought in a Get Well card this morning and before you knew it, Rhonda had got a hold of it, and by the end of the day, the whole class had signed it. See?" He handed the sizable card over to Helga, who opened it with a look of surprise.
"Huh, I'm surprised Miss Priss wanted to sign it," Helga admitted as she scanned through the card. "Thought she would have been only too happy that I was out for the day."
"She's not as bad as you think, Helga," Arnold said. "And besides, no one wishes you to be sick. Even if a few of them did find it funny at first," he admitted sheepishly.
"Gee, I couldn't tell," Helga said sarcastically, gesturing to one particular comment on the card. "To Helga, hope you stop barfing soon. Harold," she read dryly. "Yeah, he's a real poet that one."
"I actually think he was being nice," Arnold admitted. "Because after he found out what happened last night, he turned as green as you were."
Helga snorted. "That I would have liked to have seen. Maybe I should start calling him 'Green Boy' instead."
"That's not very nice, Helga," Arnold remarked.
"Oh, lighten up, I was just kidding," Helga replied coolly. "It's not like I can do much more at the moment. All I want to do is sleep."
"Which is the best thing for you right now," Arnold pointed out. "It'll help you get better faster."
Helga scoffed. "Not fast enough if you ask me," she said, reaching up to press a hand to her forehead. "I still feel like a furnace."
"Mom said she'll give you some more medicine in a few hours," Arnold assured her. "She just doesn't want you to have too much, that's all."
"Believe me, I'm not complaining," Helga said. "That stuff is revolting."
Arnold grinned. "Yeah, I know. Grandma made me drink the stuff when I had a cold last year. I thought I'd never get the taste out of my mouth."
"Yeah, I noticed," Helga said dryly. "It's better than being sick all night, though."
"Anything is better than that," Arnold admitted. "Even Sid and Stinky shuddered at the thought of what you went through last night. Which is why everyone hoped you felt better."
Glancing back down at the card, Helga found her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the sheer number of messages written on every inch of space that could be found. Every single person in the class, as well as people she knew around the neighbourhood had signed it, including people the eleven year old had least expected. Helga had to admit that the gesture was slightly touching, albeit a tad unusual. She knew deep down that her classmates didn't hate her, but they certainly weren't on the best of terms either, even after her and Arnold's new found friendship. Maybe they weren't so bad after all.
"Helga, are you alright?" Arnold's concerned voice pierced her thoughts.
"Huh?" Helga said, quickly glancing up at the boy in question. "Oh, no, I'm fine Football Head. I'm just a bit… well… surprised anyone wanted to sign this, that's all." She held the card up in demonstration.
"The class isn't that bad, Helga," Arnold said gently. "No one wants to see you sick. Especially Phoebe," he added. "She was really worried about you this morning."
"Tell her I'll call her when I feel up to it, would ya, Football Head?" Helga asked. "I mean, I'd do it tonight, but I'm not really in the mood to be on the phone for ages."
"Sure thing, Helga," Arnold smiled. "I didn't think you would be. And neither did Phoebe, which is why she got you the card."
"Well, tell her thanks for me," Helga said sincerely. "It's nice." Glancing down at the card once more, she suddenly chuckled.
"I see Tall Hair boy had his fun," she said. "Hope you feel better soon, Pataki, the class is mighty quiet without you!"
"Gerold was a bit creeped out how quiet is was," Arnold admitted. "Especially since both you and Curly are out with the flu."
"Hey, don't blame me for that one!" Helga exclaimed, holding her hands up in protest. "I didn't go near the little freak!"
"We know that, Helga," Arnold assured her with a grin. "I was just saying. The class is super quiet without the two of you."
"Knock out Miss Priss and you'll all be going loony from boredom," Helga quipped, before she cast her gaze back down to the card in her hand, where she blushed faintly upon finding Arnold's message upon the card.
Hope you feel better soon, Helga. Being at school isn't the same without you. Love, Arnold.
"I wanted to write more, but everyone was watching me," Arnold said bashfully.
Helga snorted. "Always the way, huh?" she grinned, before letting out an unintentional yawn.
"I'll let you get back to sleep. Mom will wake you up later to check your temperature," Arnold said swiftly as he stood up.
"You don't have to leave," Helga protested weakly, despite another yawn. "I'm only yawning."
"You're tired, Helga, don't worry about it," Arnold said, placing a hand to her shoulder gently. "I'll see you at dinner."
"Yeah, okay," Helga said quietly, before Arnold threw her a smile and left the room, causing the eleven year old to give out another yawn.
Ruddy flu! Is it ever going to end?! At this rate, I'm never going to get time alone with Arnold!
"101.5," Stella read out a few hours later. "Well, that's certainly better than last night!"
"Tell me again why I couldn't take this stuff before I had dinner?" Helga asked dryly, holding up the medicine cup in demonstration. "Now all I'm going to taste is this all night."
"Yeah, sorry, Helga," Stella said apologetically, watching as Helga upended the concoction with a light shudder. "I'm afraid I didn't think of that. I just thought it would be better for you to take it before you went to bed, that's all."
"Eh, it won't kill me," Helga shrugged, before giving out a violent cough.
"Someone sounds like they're in the next stage," Stella said sympathetically, listening to the girl's loud barking. "When did all of this start?"
"A few hours ago," Arnold said, from his place on the other side of the bed. "She said she's had a tickle in her throat all day."
"What he said," Helga croaked out, waving a hand in agreement towards Arnold.
"In a way that's a good thing," Stella said. 'It means your body is doing what it's supposed to. Even if it is annoying," she added, upon seeing Helga's irritated expression.
"Annoying?" Helga said hoarsely. "I feel like I'm going to cough my lungs up!"
"I'll get you some cough medicine before you go to bed," Stella assured her. "But the thing for now is to keep resting. This means you're at least halfway through."
"Swell," Helga muttered, before barking out another cough. "Urgh. And here I thought I couldn't feel any damn worse than I did," she groaned, laying an arm over her heavy eyes.
"I'll go get you some cough medicine," Stella said, getting up from the chair beside the bed. "I don't think you'll be staying up much longer."
"Gee, no kidding," Helga muttered as Stella left the room.
"Do you want me to go too, Helga?" Arnold asked.
"Hey," Helga began, removing her arm from over her weary eyes, "I know I'm not the life of the party, but I can't be that boring, can I?"
Arnold laughed. "You're not boring, Helga," he assured her. "I was just wondering if you wanted to get to bed, that's all. I mean, I wouldn't blame you. You look exhausted."
"I feel it, too," Helga said wearily. "But it won't kill me to stay up a few more minutes."
"If you say so, Helga," Arnold smiled.
"Well, I do say so, Football Head," Helga replied with a grin. "I'm not going to let some flu tell me what to do. Although it's doing a pretty good job of it," she admitted, emitting another cough.
"Well, it hasn't been all bad," Arnold said, with a hint of a smile. "When else am I ever going to see you with your hair down like that?" He gestured to Helga's hair, which was tumbling down her shoulders in waves. "It looks really pretty. But then again, I always did find you quite pretty, didn't I, Cecile?" He threw a pointed glance in Helga's direction.
Helga flushed.
"Oh, can it, Football Head!"
I know I had a few people ask me about Arnold finding out about the whole Cecile business, but as this story takes place 3 months after the end of The Jungle Movie, I always assumed that it would been brought up somewhere along the line, so I decided to have Arnold tease her about it instead which is something I could see him doing!
Ok, next chapter Helga will slowly start to feel better and we'll see a bit more of her relationship with Arnold which I am rather enjoy writing. It's nice to see them getting along with each other rather than her picking on him and I hope to extend this some more in the rest of the story.
Ok, so, once again, PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! Although if I'm being honest, I had so many reviews for the first chapter, I was starting to feel a little overwhelmed! Not that I minded, I was just shocked! Just remember, though, I DO NOT TOLERATE FLAMES IN ANY SHAPE OR FORM, but KIND constructive criticism is accepted. I'm aiming for the next chapter to be up in a few weeks.
Thanks for reading!
