Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold! or any of these amazing characters. I just get to play with them for a little bit.
A/N: I said in the last part that I had an idea for a continuation and after setting the story aside for all of one day, Arnold just wasn't having it! He wanted the rest of this story told now, so y'all get the epilogue a lot sooner than I anticipated. I hope you enjoy!
Anything underlined is directly quoted from the show-those are not my words! Everything else you can completely blame me for.
"Now, we've got to get you safely out of the building. If you're caught now, all is lost."
Arnold turns the corner, listening intently with the phone still pressed to his ear as he tries to figure out where Deep Voice could possibly be. And then he spots him, a shadowed figure lurking just outside a nearby door. There he is!
"Uh, Deep Voice, tell me how I can get out of here," he says, in reply to the all-too-obvious previous comment. Just stay on the phone; I just need you to talk for one minute and I'll be able to get to you before you notice I'm gone…
"Ok Arnold, listen, you've got to wait until the guards have gone to the other side of the building…"
Yes! Arnold drops the phone and walks toward the door to the roof. He can still hear the muffled sound of his voice coming through the phone as it rests on the floor. Looking through the glass, he hesitates for just a second before throwing the door open. "Deep Voice!"
The figure turns, further silhouetted by the lightning flashing behind him. "Don't come another step closer. Pay no attention to that man with the voice box."
As if that was actually an option, who does this guy think he is? He narrows his eyes. "Who are you?"
"Uh… Uh… No one in particular." The figure waves his hands in front of his face, trying to keep Arnold from getting a direct glance.
He's had enough. Maybe if he wasn't in the middle of the most stressful day of his life, Arnold wouldn't have lost his patience for this man, but neither of them were so lucky. He doesn't care if this is the president of the United States—this man has him on his last nerve, regardless that he has been helping them out this entire time. "No more games, Deep Voice. I'm not doing anything until I know who you are."
He steps forward, slowly backing the man into a corner of the roof. Nearing the edge, the man gets caught up and slips. "Oh!" he exclaims as his back hits the wall and he falls to the ground, his identity finally revealed.
What seems like an eternity passes as Arnold stares at her. Her. When conscious thoughts resume, they come directly out his mouth, "Helga?! You? You're Deep Voice?" His mind has locked up on him but he's doing everything he can to fight it and make sense of this situation.
"Huh huh, looks like it," she drops the voice box mid-sentence revealing her non-masculine pitch, further proving the reality of the situation.
"But I don't get it. How come…how come you couldn't just tell me what you knew? Why'd you have to make up all this crazy secret identity?" I knew she was good at hiding secrets, but this is insane!
"No reason."
You've got to be kidding me. The stress and frustration are back, winning out over shock for the moment. "But Helga, you just risked everything to help me save the neighborhood."
"So, what's your point?" she replies with her usual attitude, seeming to have finally regained her composure after being discovered.
Oh, no. No. Not this game again. I am not letting her take control that easy. "That's a pretty amazing thing to do for someone you claim to hate." That's right, Helga. He challenges her in his mind. I said "claim to hate" …how are you gonna field that one?
"Yeah, well, I'm a pretty amazing person, Football-Head."
He sighs internally. Can't argue with you there… "But I…" Maybe I'm looking at this the wrong way. I have spent the last several weeks trying to see if she'd let anything slip accidentally. Maybe I need a different approach. "I thought you were on your dad's side. I thought you were gonna get rich off the whole deal."
"Money isn't everything." She looks away from him.
Another internal sigh; geez, she's stubborn. "Helga, why'd you do it?" Am I really doing this? Now? Am I really going to press her? Am I going to make her tell me? Right here?
"It…it's my civic duty."
"Helga." What am I doing? Maybe I need to let her tell me herself; do I really want to force her to say it?
"…'Cause I love a good mystery?"
Her blatant lies push his frustration to overrule his concerns about pressing her too far. His stress level has been through the roof and he finally snaps. "Oh come on!" he all but yells at her. "What's the real reason?"
"Oh I don't know Arnoldo, I guess maybe I just took pity on you and your stupid friends!" she lashes back, seeming a bit like a caged animal.
"Well, why?" he backs off a little, sensing she's nearing an emotional edge.
"Because…uh, 'cause maybe I don't hate you as much as I thought, okay?" Did she just…? Is she actually going to admit that she likes me likes me? "I guess… maybe I… I even kind of… like you a little. Heck, I guess you might even kinda say I like you a lot."
She said it! She actually said it; I can't believe it! Remember—I have to be surprised! She'll kill me if she knew I already knew because I went through her closet…crush or not, Helga G. Pataki would not let anyone live who invaded her privacy. He gulps, "You do? You did this for me?"
"That's right, Hair Boy! I mean, criminy! What else are you supposed to do when someone you love is in trouble?"
Wait, what? "Love?" There is nothing forced about the shock on his face this time. I know her poems said... And in her closet.. But I… I…
"You heard me pal, I love you! Love you! Who else do you think has been stalking you night and day, building shrines to you in a closet, filling volumes of books with poems about you." He knows this, he knows he knows this, he's seen it with his own eyes, but she's telling him, more like yelling it at me actually. "I love you, Arnold! I've always loved you—ever since I first laid eyes on your stupid football head." The words are freely flowing out of her mouth and as much as he wanted to hear them from her, as much as he pushed her to say them, it's too much. She's too much. "And from that moment and every moment since, I've lived and breathed for you dreamed of the moment I could finally tell you my secret feelings, could grab you and kiss you and…" She's being sweet and loving and gentle. Do I even know her at all? He feels like he's trying to drink form a fire hydrant and is drowning instead of being refreshed. "…oh, come here you big lug!"
She grabs his shoulders and yanks him forward so fast that he doesn't even have time to realize what's happening before her lips are on his and his brain shuts down entirely. It takes him several seconds to recover before he can pull himself from her grasp and try to figure out what just happened.
"I'm confused." He blinks a few times holding his head, doing everything he can to get his brain functioning again. "Did you just say you love me?"
"What are you deaf?" she yells at him.
He finds some relief in her tone. That's the Helga I know. She's harsh and rough and mean. I mean, yes, she's good and nice too, I always knew that, but.. but…
Loud static cuts through his thoughts as he hears Gerald call his name, "Arnold!"
Before he can even process where Gerald's voice had come from, Helga has grabbed the walkie talkie from his side and yells into it, "Not now!"
"'Not now?' Who the.." Gerald's reply gets cut off as Helga tosses the walkie over her shoulder and turns her attentions back to Arnold.
"Oh Arnold, just hold me." She reaches for him and attempts to wrap her arms around him. He sees her face coming near his again and he panics, ducking out of the way he grabs his head and looks up at her.
"I… I—I—I, I need to think…" She's trying to kiss me. She did kiss me. We've kissed before, but that was acting, that wasn't us…
"Yes, I suppose you'll have to do the thinking for both of us now, darling." She manages to get her arms around him this time and runs a hand through his hair. He freezes in her embrace, terrified of how she's holding him, but not entirely hating it either. Get it together! When she leans in for a third time, he snaps out of it and ducks out of her arms again.
"Whoa. This is all happening too fast. I feel…" He looks up, seeing two Helga's in front of him. The bully he's known for all of his life; the owner of Old Betsy and The Five Avengers; the tormentor of the entire fourth grade; the iron-fist of the playground; the girl who has single-handedly made his life a nightmare for years. And this new, loving, sweet, gentle, poetic, feminine girl who genuinely cares for him and has apparently, from the first day she met him nearly seven years ago. "I feel dizzy. I need to lie down."
"Wonderful; I'll go with you."
Realizing her arms are yet again wrapped around him, he nearly shouts at her, "No! I mean, there's no time for that!" "No time for that?" What am I even saying? But something had finally registered in his brain, the reason why they were on this roof to begin with, the reason why this conversation even started. "We've got twenty minutes to get back to the neighborhood before the bulldozers roll!"
"Bulldozers?" she asks in her same dreamy tone.
He pauses at the confusingly-feminine sweetness. Later. I'll figure this all out later. His urgency and the survival of the neighborhood had finally returned to the forefront of his mind and they needed to get going. Now.
"Helga. The neighborhood? We have. To save. The neighborhood." He punctuates his sentence very clearly, trying to snap her out of it. He needs her to be back to her old self—the one who is a leader of their class and can make people do what she wants with just a look. He needs the Helga who can scheme her way into and out of things better than anyone he knows. He pulls the grappling hook from his side, "Come on let's roll."
At least thirty minutes have passed and Arnold finds himself standing on Vine Street surveying the wreckage around him. They were alive—which was probably the most miraculous part of the whole day, considering they had to drive the bus that was jumping holes in the overpass. But they had done it: the mayor had declared their neighborhood a historic landmark and no one had to see their homes or shops destroyed.
He turns to see Murray make his way out of the over-turned bus, only to be confronted by Mona. It's a very sweet moment actually, as the two declare their love for each other and embrace. He's glad to see the heartbroken man finally got what he we wanted so badly. It's not until he glances right to see Helga watching the scene as well, that this touching sight suddenly makes him feel very uncomfortable.
I still don't even know how to handle this just yet. What am I supposed to do from here? Is everything going to change? I'm not ready for that yet; I'm still adjusting to the fact that she has feelings for me in secret. I'm definitely not ready for her to be sweet and caring all the time like she was on the roof! Didn't we just save the neighborhood from change? How is it possible that everything is still changing even though it's not?
He sighs to himself. No way to know but to face it, I guess. He looks at her more directly and plunges in. "Pretty crazy day…" he starts, nervously rubbing his arm.
She turns to him, a content smile on her face from watching the reunion play out in the street. "Yea we uh…ooh…" her eyes widen as she seems to realize herself what is about to be addressed. "…said a lot of really nutty things back there…"
"Yea…" Okay, so we both know what we're talking about…is she freaked out too? She seems kinda off…but this whole thing has brought out a side of her I don't know how to read…
"Uh yea. Oh, well, um…" Is she…scared? Is Helga G. Pataki nervous? About me? "About all that stuff I said, Arnold. I—uh… I mean…" Maybe I did push her too far back there. She's calling me 'Arnold' for crying out loud! Maybe she's not ready for everything to change yet either… "It was crazy back there and…"
"Yea, with all the excitement we just…" Man, how do I fix this? He rubs the back of his neck, nervously looking down. "We just kinda…"
"Uh… got carried away?"
His heart rate picks up as he realizes she's trying to downplay it all. Really? Yes! I can make this work… "You didn't really mean all that, did you?" Come on Helga, take the bait. "You don't really love me right?" He looks her in the eye, trying to lead her with his words.
"Right." She says it a bit hesitantly, as if trying to figure out how to handle the situation herself.
"You were just…" he pauses for a second, choosing his words very carefully he continues, "…caught up in the heat of the moment, right?"
"Right!" she exclaims, seeming to catch on now.
Okay, time to seal the deal. "You actually hate me don't you?" With a significant look in his eye, he leans in close. Come on Helga, this is where we agree to keep our world the same. We need the stability. You love playing games; play this one with me. Come on…
She turns away from him and for a second his stomach drops. Oh no, did I upset her? Did I push too far the other way now? I don't want to hurt her… But before he can finish the thought she's whipped around again and is yelling at him, in the most comfortingly-familiar tone, "Of course I hate you, you stupid football-head! And don't you ever forget it!" She pokes a finger sharply in his direction, "Ever!"
Relief floods his body at her words. Thank God! She's not mad at me! And we're back to normal! We can pretend for now that this isn't happening and we can both take some time to let all of this sink in more. Ah... "—h, okay," he replies; his thoughts blurring into his words.
He straightens up and visibly relaxes as a mere second passes where they look at each other, knowing that they both know the truth. They both know her feelings and they are both going work together to keep it under wraps.
Then, as quickly as it came, the moment is broken as Helga stomps off, fully embracing the truce they've called. He can't help but smirk as she goes. What an interesting girl. I never know what to expect from her. At least we are on the same page every once in a while, though.
He watches her disappear behind a building as a full smile takes over his face. So she has some pretty intense feelings for me, and I'm not ready for that yet, but she doesn't really seem ready for that yet either, so we're ok. She's ok. I mean, I think we understand each other pretty well.
His mind continues putting together how well the complement each other, even with all of their differences, as Gerald approaches. Well, at least he didn't hear any of that. There's no way he would have let that slide without trying to find out every detail. Especially since he hasn't asked how Helga ended up with us to begin with…guess I'll need to figure out what to tell him about that too. Eventually he's going to remember to ask…
They walk through the debris on Vine Street toward the park and Arnold can't help but take one last glimpse over his shoulder. He fakes a cough to cover the snort that had made its way out. She's skipping down the street away from them with her arms thrown in the air. Is she singing?
He turns back to Gerald, continuing their conversation on autopilot. Basketball is a great, Gerald, but I think my favorite game is whatever Helga and I are playing…
Helga G. Pataki. Bully, friend, tormenter, helper, angry, kind, loud, sweet, brash, loving, tomboy, poet… The words all pass through his mind in less than a second, and he finally thinks he can see that missing piece of the puzzle he had never been able to place.
Grandpa was right.
Grandma was right.
Maybe Helga is right, too.
Maybe someday, all of these pieces will finally come together.
Unnoticed by even himself, a smile creeps across his face. I mean really, who wins against Helga Pataki anyway?
A/N: That's it! Please R&R to let me know what you think! In the meantime, I'll try to cook up some other ideas for my next piece!
