Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold! nor any of its characters.

Author's Notes: Inspiration has been a little sparse lately, but I did find some today.

...

Curly spent the next week at home, laying in his bed and staring up at the ceiling. His father would come in and out with food and attempt to make conversation with his son to ask what was wrong, but each time, he simply received short, curt answers. The boy thought his words to be useless and looking over at his father, would question how he had been born to this man who obviously had no real understanding of his offspring. As Curly laid there in his bed, tracing and retracing the ceiling tiles, he would relive the beating in his head, his body physically twitching as the memories came along with the pain. He put all their words into a mental soundtrack stuck on replay. At night, he'd stare out the window, listening to the sounds of the city, the sirens crying out in the night, gunshots from far off, cars honking like argumentative couples.

The week passed and Curly was allowed to go back to school. He returned to find that the only punishment the boys had received was two weeks detention, as the principal did not want the incident to become overblown. Curly returned to school as silent as a ghost, but the damage had been done. Glares surrounded him nearly at all times as he walked by. The teasing he had gotten before paled in comparison to the treatment the boy would now receive. His locker had been vandelized, death threats written on it as well as heavy insults. His books and gym clothes had been burned. His right arm ached incredibly, not from the beating a week before, but from having been shoved into walls and the floor in the hallway. Still, the dark haired boy said nothing, only kept his eyes to the ground. His mouth barely moved, no real sign of any kind of emotion. By the end of the day, Curly could barely walk straight to get back home, still without his glasses. His plans were stopped through as a large hand caught his shirt and pulled him backwards.

"Hey, look, I've found the Jesus boy!" Wolfgang proclaimed to his pals, laughing and looking down at him. "Why don't you show us some of your tricks then, if you're Jesus? Come on, go walk on water, turn me into a fish, you freak!" He shoved Curly backwards, forcing him into the boys restroom. "Well, if you can't walk on water, let's see if you can breathe in it." A brief flash of panic went through Curly as he realized what they meant too late, the skinny boy lifted up and his head forced into one of the toilets. The sound of it flushing rang in his ears as he tried to hold his breath. Wolfgang's hand tightened around the back of his neck, the boys laughing madly as Curly tried to breathe while the water went down, finding his mouth and lungs being filled with the filthy water. Arms flailing and choking, Curly could feel his body begging for air.

He was granted that wish as he felt his body being pulled back and thrown, the sounds of running footsteps exiting the bathroom, leaving the soaked boy on the floor.

"Curly, are you okay?" He heard a familiar voice and looked up, the hazed vision of a football head and bright blonde hair appearing.

"They heard me and ran, I think they thought it was empty in here." He could feel Arnold blotting his face with paper towels as he worked to fill his lungs with the air he desperately needed. The sweet boy was very grateful that Curly could not see, as his eyes were starting to tear up. Curly was covered in scars and bruises and watching him suffer was taking a toll on the young boy's heart.

"I don't think you're safe here. Maybe you should talk to your dad about going somewhere else, like another school. I mean, I'd still come see you, but..." He said, hiding the worry in his voice. Curly closed his eyes and slowly stood, his upper body still dripping wet.

"I won't forget you, Arnold." He said, coughing up a bit. Misunderstanding the boy's words, Arnold felt a bit of relief and smiled, throwing away the wet towels. He still felt a foreboding chill in his body that made him worry though. Although Curly was his friend, he felt as though he had no idea what lay inside of the boy...