I don't own Hey Arnold!

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"What are you drawing?"

SNORT

Milo, who, up until now, had been by himself in the boardinghouse kitchen, looked up from his sketchbook and saw Arnie wearing the usual emotionlessly blank expression.

One eye blinking at a time…

A skin-tone the same shade as a grey ball of lint…

Oh, let's not forget the uncanny and (disturbing) resemblance this guy shared with a certain-and definitely more popular—Football-Head.

Anybody else would have shuddered at that face.

Milo…?

He gave a big grin and patted a hand on the spot to his left to motion Arnold's wayward cousin to join him. Arnie happily complied...well at least as happily as Milo could actually tell.

"I'm trying to come up with some ideas for a new villain, but I've hit a drawing block. You got any ideas? I know I want this villain to be a chick, but I can't decide what to base her off of."

The younger boy's brow furrowed as he explained this situation of his.

"Happiness…"

That word, ironically enough, had come from Arnie.

'What the—'

Milo's raised eyebrows and glanced inquiringly at the blank-faced 9-year old.

"Well, most villains are based on dark stuff, right?"

Shifting his face to Milo's direction, Arnie continued his explanation, still no expression giving his thoughts away.

Nodding his head in comprehension, Milo gestured for Arnie to go on.

"Maleficent, (snort) Venom, Darth Vader, (snort) Voldemort—a lot of villains are color coded, so it'd be pretty hard to miss them."

"Too many color-coded if you ask me…," griped Arnie's companion. In spite of his own tone, though, Milo, as far as Arnold's cousin could tell, was really getting into the conversation.

"Exactly… (Snort)… Plus, some cultures view women as life-bearers since they're the ones who give birth. You'd really turn heads if you twisted that view around. That's why I think you should base your new villain—"

Arnie stopped right there, expecting his younger acquaintance to follow through. Milo did not skip a beat.

"'—on happiness?" finished the baffled 7-year old.

Before the boy had a chance to question Arnie any further, said farm boy continued on.

"Yeah, just think for a moment. (Snort) Most bad guys may want revenge, world domination, or just plain destruction. Other times, what they want might be too much of something—too much power, too much wealth, too much fame-"

Milo's eyes suddenly widened as realization finally sunk in.

'…or sometimes too much joy…'

Then, almost immediately, a pencil's tip was dancing straight across and all over the surface of a page of fresh, snow white paper.

In the middle of drawing an outline, however, Milo paused momentarily to give Arnie a grin of gratitude.

"Thanks, Arnster!"

Arnie, disinterestedly "(Snort) Yeah, sure…"

With all the thanks stated and over with, the brown-toned artist proceeded with his upcoming masterpiece.

Ah, but Arnold's cousin apparently had a few more words to share…

"Why?"

Once again, Milo raised his eyes to face Arnie, only this time, the action was in confusion.

"Why? What are you taking about?"

For the first time since anyone in Hillwood had actually known Arnie, the country boy suddenly gave a slow but heavy sigh, which seemed to ease down the indifferent air around him.

Just a bit…

"You never have a problem around me. You never bat an eyelash at me whenever I come over. You never freak out or get grossed out when I show off the lint I've collected. (Snort) Even when I read off the ingredients of foodstuffs, you shrug off or ignore whatever I do like it's no big deal."

Throughout this unexpected confession, Milo couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt bubbling up.

"Are you…um…upset that I haven't been paying you attention so much?" Milo started hesitantly, concerned about hurting the guy's feelings.

'Hey, just because he doesn't express emotion, that doesn't mean he has none.'

"Nah… (Snort) you just treat me like you treat everybody else. Your mom does the same thing. Everyone else…? They either just shudder or back away from me. Even Arnold gets a little freaked out when he's around me."

A widened pair of eyes was a not the response Milo gave to those words.

His actual response was a shake of the head.

A clear sign of disappointment—well familiar disappointment but still…

'Oh brother, Arnold, do you have to be so…so sensitive?'

Realizing there was still another person in the kitchen besides himself, Milo once again looked towards Arnie.

"Look, Arnie, you can't help being the way you are. Part of you was born like that,"

Milo, though he had now closed his eyes, raised his gaze to the ceiling.

"… and the other part is because of what life's thrown at you."

Out of the blue, an interesting idea than sprang into the insightful child's head, the boy opening his eyes back open and giving a smile in consequence.

A raised eyebrow from Arnie was all the response Milo needed to continue.

"You know what? You're just like Quasimodo! Both of you are actually good guys deep down."

Believe or not, Milo was telling the truth.

He knew, of course, that Arnie wasn't perfect.

Hey, though, since when was any human perfect, anyway?

However, the younger boy had also seen Arnold's cousin have moments of which the other folks of Hillwood never took notice.

Arnie had given a piece of uneaten bread to a starving dog.

He once removed a kid's kite from a tree (although he, Milo and Bonnie, the last two of whom had been walking by at the time, and the kid were the only witnesses of that feat).

And all those times people would mutter the worst of insults behind his back…

Arnie never retaliated, not even gave off as much as a glare.

'He doesn't have to worry about losing self-control. He can take whatever the world's got to throw at him…and yet he'll always stay standing in the end.'

All of a sudden, Milo sensed brewing envy inside of himself.

'Am I actually…jealous that's Arnie's so hard to read?'

Maybe that envy was aimed towards Arnie's lack of facial expression. After all, the face was a prime indicator of emotion.

Rid the face of that emotion, and you might as well as be trying to watch a rock weep.

'Why can't I be strong like that?'

Arnie, however, never noticed the heavy expression on the younger child's face and thus responded to the last words the boy had said.

"You know, what you said makes a lot of sense. Actually, I think me and Quasimodo are more alike than you might think."

"Oh, how so…?"

"Like you said, we're both mistreated because of what we are, but…"

Arnie turned his oblong head in the younger boy's direction.

His words had Milo's full attention.

"We also have friends that stick by us, people we can share our emotions with. I guess that's why I feel happier when I talk to you like I am right now."

Whoa…

Did Milo just hear correctly?

Milo shook his head as if to correct that thought.

Nope, he heard Arnie just fine.

The emotions Arnie's words evoked—those were what made the kid shell-shocked.

In effect, the subject of Arnie's warm words rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, all the while doing his best to hide the crimson blush on his cheeks.

"Oh…heh, glad I could help then," Milo murmured modestly.

Arnie nodded slowly but deliberately.

"Yeah, I'm actually starting to see why Arnold likes having you around so much. You just seem to make others feel right at home."

"Well, I do what I can, I guess. Listen, though, Arnie, everybody's got a weird side, even Arnold. I don't see why you should be any different."

"Thanks. (Snort)"

Silence now reigned in the presence of the farm boy.

Getting the message, Milo nodded his head in return and went back to his sketchbook intently.

He never noticed the diminutive but content smile growing on Arnie's face.

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