Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold

Summary: A 26 year old Helga has a near death experience with a drug addiction that sends her into rehab. While there, Gerald begins to dig into the past and brings out a skeleton in her closet that has haunted the both of them. And what exactly does all of this have to do with Arnold anyway?

Restless Sinner

"These 4 walls,

Are blistering,

I watch the paint peel,

But I cannot wake from this dream." -Black Light Burns (4 Walls)

Much to Helga's surprise, the judicial system proved to be a formidable opponent, and her ability to talk her way out of any situation, as equally fruitless. The 26 year old had never faced a real trial, and she was admittedly, a bit scared about it. She'd been held less than three days in her 'cage' as she referred to her cell, before she was sent to be appointed her punishment.

Lovely...

There she stood, awaiting her fate in a cold hard courtroom. She looked less than presentable, with her hair pulled up in a messy pony tail, the deep purple circles under her eyes from a new batch of insomnia, and of course the God awful attire that Bob had been so kind to drop off to her.

For lack of a better term, she was a hot mess.

Or cold, rather, as she shivered at the frigid air that circulated the room. The loud bang of a wooden mallet against a dense block jerked her from her day dreaming spell, leaving her more than bewildered at what as going on when she looked up. She quickly turned to her court appointed lawyer, as Bob had refused to hire her one.

Her lips parted into a 'what' expression, and before she even asked, he cut her off, "12 months of rehab," He pulled his leather briefcase up and onto the table.

"Rehab?" She repeated. That couldn't be right.

Her lawyer opened his briefcase, shoved in a few papers inside and closed it.

"To be quite honest, Ms. Pataki, you should be going to jail, it amazes me that you're not. Be thankful."

She scowled, "When do I go?"

"Now, you're to be escorted over there now."

"Ms. Pataki," A heavy voice boomed behind Helga. She swirled around with a questioned expression on her face. An officer stood there, one arm on his holstered gun, the other dangling by his side. He reached out and grabbed her arm and pulled her around in front of him to escort her out of the court room.

Helga walked slowly into the lobby of the inner city rehab center, in which she'd be spending the next 12 months of her life. An officer stood behind her until an employee could escort her to her room. Helga looked around the white tiled stainless steel building. It reminded her of a 'looney' bin. She scowled, glancing around at the occupants moseying around the area.

A giant white mass smothered her vision. Helga stepped back and stared at a jolly looking woman walking towards her, carrying a clipboard. The jovial woman smiled at her and her outward happiness made Helga cringe inside.

"You must be Ms. Pataki," The woman spoke out in a merry voice.

Helga shuttered,"Yeah,"

"I'll take her from here," She smiled warmly at the officer, "Now, if you will follow me I will show you to your room." The woman began to walk away and Helga had no choice but to follow along. They walked up a flight of stainless steel railed stairs to the second floor and down a hallway to her prescribed room.

Once inside, Helga stared around the space, crinkling her face in disapproval. The woman just smiled.

"You have a roommate already here. Dinner is at 8, but we expect you down at 5 for your first group meeting," She popped her head, as if to say, 'got that?'

Helga nodded, "Yeah, yeah, sure 5, got it," She waved off the woman as she flopped on the hard bed. The woman walked out of the door, shutting it behind her. She sighed and stared at the ceiling, her eyes becoming heavy and soon she drifted off.

The door clicked open, and in walked a girl, about Helga's age, carrying a box. Helga jolted awake, staring around frantically, whipping her eyes with her hands and staring at the stranger.

"So, you must be the newbie," The girl smirked at her. "Helga? Is it?"

Helga nodded.

"This box was sitting outside the door with your name on it," The girl plopped the box down on Helga's bed.

"Thanks."

"I'm Jessica, by the way," The girl sat down on the edge of her own bed. Helga opened up the box and found some clothes, bathing items, and the like. She also found a white envelop of cash, which she'd been stripped of when she was jailed. She removed the money from the envelope and stuck in her pocket before grabbing the box and sitting it beside her bed.

"So, what did you do to get sent here?" Jessica asked.

Helga shrugged, "Just being myself I guess."

Jessica laughed, "Catch 22," She stood up and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

Helga looked over, noticing a phone on her bedside table. She scooted back to the bed headboard, propping her back against it and hauled the bulky contraption into her lap giving its spinner nine whirls before listening to the rings murmur.

Bob picked up with a heavy 'hello.' that signified that he only picked up because he felt that he had to.

"Hey Dad," She grumbled. "Thanks for my stuff."

"I'll bring you some more of your clothes later in the week, that should do you for now." Bob replied.

"Okay..." Helga sighed, "Have you and Mom talked to Sender yet?"

"No, we haven't. We had planned to sit down and have a talk with her tonight."

"Don't...um...I'll tell her. I need to talk to her, I haven't seen her in days..."

Bob agreed and the receiver went quiet for a few seconds as he retrieved the young girl. A few minutes later, the elated voice of a girl barely 6 pierced through Helga's end.

"Hey mama!"

Helga smiled, "Hey sweetheart, how are you?"

"I'm good! Grandma and grandpa told me that you went on a trip. Are you coming back?"

Helga's heart fractured at the sound of Senders innocents to the situation at hand. She sat there in a beat of silence, struggling to find the words to explain everything, "Sender, I'm not going to be coming home for a while."

"Why?"

"Well...I'm sick sweetheart. I've got to get better...before we can go home," Helga bit her lip. Sick was the best thing she could come up with and it wasn't that far off the mark though. Surprisingly.

"Are you real sick?" Sender asked.

"Yeah sweetie, mommy's real sick."

"Will you get better?"

Would she? Probably not. But she'd fake it to make it all the way.

"Yeah, baby...I will. You just have to be good for grandma and grandpa while I'm gone okay?" Helga ran a hand through her hair.

"Okay."

"I miss you, and I love you."

"I love you too."

Five O'clock had rolled around and Helga found herself sitting within a circle of sick people spilling their inner most demons, and desires and thoughts, and it was nothing but a bunch of bull. At least to her it was. As she sat in her chair, with her legs pulled up under her, her hands trembling, something they had started doing four days ago and hadn't stopped, she stared at the floor, solidely refusing to be apart of the group.

She hated the world more than ever.

"Helga?" A voice broke her stare. She looked up bewildered. "We're yet to know anything about you, how about you share next?" The councilor sitting across the circle from her suggested.

She pulled her legs out from under her and sat back in the chair.

"I don't think so," She shook her head.

"Well, at least say something."

She rolled her eyes and stood up, "Listen bucko, I'm not going to be conned into playing this cute little game with you people. You think talking about something fixes it? You must think I'm stupid!" Her heart started pounding dangerously fast.

An anxiety attack.

She grabbed her chest with a shaky hand, closing her eyes and beginning to breath in deeply. Finally getting a grip of herself she headed for the exit.

"Admittance is the first step to acceptance, you can fight your demons," The councilor called after her.

Helga's eyes narrowed and she whipped around and glared at the man.

"You don't know anything about the demons I live with," She replied, her voice cracking, but controlled and precise. She breathed in again, glaring around the rest of the group of people before turning and storming out of the room.

Helga Pataki was not about to be labeled a 'Sick rehaber,' she was not about to have somebody tell her what she was dealing with. In the midst of her thoughts, she stomped up the stairs to her room, slammed the door behind her, marched into the bathroom, slammed that door too and turned on the faucet.

She stared into the mirror at her own reflection, breathing very hard. She glanced down and splashed water over her face. It was bitterly cold, but it felt good and it slowly calmed her down, splashing a few more handfuls over her face.

She turned off the faucet, dried her face and walked back into the room, glancing around the room as she paced. She couldn't stand it. She felt like she couldn't sit still, she couldn't focus on anything.

Finally, she let out a loud sigh of distress.

"I can't do this!" She yelled to know one as she ran her hands through her hair.

I've got to get out of here...

She walked over to the edge of her bed and grabbed the box of her things, tossing it up onto the bed. She rooted through it, pulling out a jacket and pulled it over the fleece she already wore. She peeked out into the hallway, looking both ways down the hall before exiting the room. She walked to the stairs and looked over the railing into the lobby.

The coast was clear.

At that, she hurriedly bounded down the stairs quietly and skipped across the lobby area to the front entrance where she slipped out the glass doors and into the dark cold night. She zipped up her jacket to keep out the bone chill, stuck her hands in her jacket pockets and walked down the concrete steps onto the road.

The place was guarded by a cast iron fence and a patrolled gate. She chuckled at their feeble attempts and discouraging people from escaping. She faced worse obstacles to escape from in her life of mischief. She crept down to a secluded spot of the fence and hosted herself up on to the brick foundation that the cast irons was grounded in. Grabbing the top horizontal bar, she hosted herself up with a quick jump from her feet and slung a leg over in between the iron spikes spaced just far enough apart to sit her body. She shifted her weight over and slung her remaining leg over and jumped to the ground.

She was home free.

That was way too easy.

Helga walked out into the street shoving her hands back into her jacket pocket. She just had one stop to make.

A/N: Chapter 4. Hooray! She pretty much can't do anything right, but then again she's not make THAT much of an effort to. Anyway, hope you guys liked the chapter, please R&R.