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?

Little Sister: Fine For Now

"If God has a master plan,

That only He understands,

I hope it's your eyes He's seeing through,

Things get damaged,

Things get broken,

I thought we'd manage,

But words left unspoken." -Depeche Mode (Precious)

Oh her body was so stiff. So very, very stiff. She felt like she'd been hit by a truck. Not just any truck either, a huge truck. She felt terribly sore as well. All this from just moving miniscule amounts before her eye lids even pried themselves open.

Yes, Helga Pataki had lived.

But, damn if she couldn't get her lids to stay open.

It seemed that the hand of prolonged sleep refused to ease its clutches on her, and she was pulled under once more into a blissful, dreamless slumber. It was probably some of the best sleep she'd had in a long time.

She didn't know how long she fell back asleep. A few minutes? A few hours? A whole day? She had no idea. She woke up much more easily on her second try, not feeling overwhelmingly groggy like before. It had to have been some sort of medicine she had been given.

She was disappointed though, at how utterly exhausted she still felt.

Her muscles felt unbelievably sore. She batted her eyes a few times, trying to adjust them to the light. The cool air coursed over her lids, and stung them a bit. Looking around she discovered that she was in a hospital room. Her blue orbs darted everywhere before dropped to her body, examining the wires and things attached to her.

What in the…?

She immediately noticed her right arm. It was cast in a splint running from her elbow to her purple swollen knuckles and her thumb was completely entombed, and immobile. Her whole arm felt solidly numb, like a plank of wood.

It all started coming back to her at that point. Rehab, Gerald, the mirror, the glass…

...her very stupid mistake.

She shuttered, feeling her throat tighten up.

Her ears perked. She heard soft footsteps approaching in her direction.

"You're awake!"

She heard Olga's breathless voice shimmer through the air. She slid her eyes from her arm to her sister. The older blonde crossed the gap and enveloped Helga into a warm, yet hungry hug, trying desperately to be gentle in her haste.

Olga pulled back and looked at her sister, her eyes damp from oncoming tears. Helga opened her mouth to speak but realized that her throat was dry as a bone. She coughed, feeling that itchy scratch for the first time since waking.

"Water," She managed to finally croak between coughs.

Olga unblinkingly grabbed a pitcher off of the bed side and poured the water into the accompanying plastic cup. Grabbing the cup, she brought it back up to Helga.

The younger blonde was silently thankful that it had a straw as she sucked the liquid down. The soothing feeling it left on her throat was pure bliss. She sucked the cup dry, not realizing how thirsty she really was. Olga refilled it twice for her before she felt satisfied.

"My mouth felt like a dry bone."

Her voice still didn't' sound totally normal yet. That intense dry probably mangled it for life.

Crimeny… She thought. I'll sound like Demi Moore forever.

"How long have I been out?"

Olga still sat on the side of the bed, looking her over in a thankful manner, "About 16 hours," She paused and looked at her sister tenderly,"You scared us so badly," She whispered.

Olga's makeup was less than perfection, she had bags under her puffy eyes and she stared at Helga as if she were a lost toy. She looked like somebody who hadn't slept in awhile. Somebody who just waited all night to see if their worthless, selfish, pathetic excuse sister would survive an attempt at offing herself.

Oh yes, it was all coming back to her now.

I nearly…died.

The thought shook her core.

Helga brought her palm to her face, wiping her eyes as she attempted to sniff back the tears that were fighting to push past her eyes.

I nearly died.

"Hey," Olga reached out and brushed her slender fingers through her hair, fingertips glided across the remnants of dried blood still caked to her blonde strands fracturing her heart over their meaning.

Helga shook her head, no longer able to contain the tears. They flowed over her lids and down her cheeks like a river. "Olga…"

"Come here," Olga pulled her into mass, wrapping her up in a tight hug, "It's okay."

Helga barely allowed herself to be contained before she came completely undone.

She sobbed.

It felt like every emotion she had ever felt had come rocketing to the surface at the same time. Her past, her present, her future, all of her fears, her insecurities, her once happy thoughts, everything.

Perhaps that was what knocking on the deaths door does to a person.

She really couldn't say what caused it, nor did she dwell on the subject. The only thing she knew is how she felt in this very moment.

Olga placed her cheek on the top of her sister's head as she rubbed her back soothingly. She felt no need to say anything. It was Helga's moment to let go, and she was perfectly okay with being involved. That was what family was supposed to do.

Helga didn't know how long she cried. She just balled until there wasn't anything left to cry. Her breathing finally began to calm, as she felt some of her emotional tension begin to evaporate away. Poor Olga's blouse probably looked like it had been in a wet T-shirt contest.

She finally quieted, but didn't make any attempt to move. As much as she berated Olga about her love of hugging, she was immensely thankful of that particular trait right now. It did feel good to be embraced by someone.

"Did I ruin myself?" She asked in a whisper, gazing down at her pathetic looking arm.

Olga's gaze immediately followed hers.

"No," She shook her head, "They were able to fix you. But you won't be able to use your thumb for awhile."

Helga took a deep breath, and pulled away from her sister's embrace, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," She confessed and wiped her eyes free of water.

Olga gave her free hand a squeeze, "Talk to me."

Helga knew what that phrase meant. It was her sister trying to understand everything. It was an invitation for her to vent and possibly receive some advice. As light hearted as she tried to make it sound, Helga couldn't deny the fear and desperation that overshadowed every word.

Olga was scared.

The young blonde groaned, "I…I was just so scared…and cornered and, and depressed that I couldn't even think straight."

Her sister squirmed.

"You should have told somebody you were feeling that way."

Helga sighed and stared at her lap.

The silence continued festering and a light bulb finally illuminated in Olga's head, "What aren't you telling me?" She carefully asked.

The thick bile began building in the back of Helga's throat again, tightening it painfully. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

Olga sighed, "Don't be a clam with me. Please?"

No nibble.

"Whatever it is, it wasn't worth this."

"I've done a very bad thing, Olga," Helga breathed heavily. Tears were beginning to fall once again. "I…I think I killed him….I killed Arnold."

Olga stilled, a look of bewilderment had cloaked her face and she looked like she was at a loss for words.

"Why would you say that?" She asked in a hushed tone.

Helga sniffed, "Because it's true…"

Olga blinked, "I don't believe that. I don't believe any part of that."

The tears ran freely once more and Helga began crying heavily for a second time as Olga stared at her mournfully. She looked like a child, devastated over a broken toy.

"I did," She sobbed frantically, "Gerald is right…and then there, there was L-Lila and, and…he was leaving me and—"

"-Helga."

"There was nobody else…Olga! O-Only me!"

"Helga…calm down," Her sister tried again, "Please, calm down."

This time the younger girl obeyed, silencing herself, though she continued to breathe heavily.

"Who is Gerald? Who is Lila?" Olga continued.

Helga's face contorted painfully at the mention of those two names. She groaned loudly and then an eerie calm possessed her. "Gerald was Arnold's best friend and he's a cop and he's been interrogating me over the last few months. He's convinced that I did it. I killed Arnold."

Olga stiffened, "He told you all of this and you believed him?"

Helga nodded.

Olga pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index, sighing as she did, "I'm not sure what I'm more upset about, this cop harassing you, or, you buying into such nonsense."

"It's not nonsense, I have no memory of that ni—"

"-It is nonsense!" Olga interrupted, "I know this because I was there with you in the weeks after his death. Did you forget? I watched you in the wreck that you were. I'm still watching you in a wreck. You grieved for loss, not of guilt and you radiated that loss with every fiber of your being."

Helga continued staring at her lap.

"You are a good person Helga. I see it. I've always seen it, and Arnold saw it too," Olga paused, "You never ever allow yourself to see it though." She whispered.

The young blonde's gaze slipped from her lap to her sister's face. Her eyes were so blurry they could barely make out her siblings facial features. "I…I just...I loved him…so much…so, so much."

Olga pulled her forward into a warm embrace, "I know you did," She whispered, "I know you did."

"I want to let go so, so badly, but I can't. There is something inside of me that just won't allow me and I'm…I'm afraid that is something dark," Helga confessed.

"You confuse your heart with something much more sinister. Letting go begins with accepting that sometimes, things happen that are beyond our control. Though, sometimes it's much harder to convince the heart than the head of that."

Helga sniffed, "I have tried to tell myself that and…I don't know."

"Have you tried to accept it? Or have you just buried it with substance?"

Helga remained quiet briefly, chewing over the relevancy of her sister's words, "I…" She began, but paused, swooshing her own words around in her mouth some more, "I've…buried it."

"I thought as much."

Helga inhaled, "It runs much deeper than just that though. I'm in thick and I….I need help."

Olga hugged her a little tighter and smiled in relief, "It's okay to ask again, just promise me something:" The tears began welling up in her eyes heavily, threatening to tumble over her lids.

"Please, please…please," She begged, "Don't ever do something like this again."

Helga pulled back and locked eyes with her sister's matching blue orbs. She reached out and grabbed Olga's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Never again." She finally whispered.

And that was one promise she would have no trouble keeping.

Olga beamed through blurry eyes. That awkward elephant that had been lurking since Helga awoke had finally left the room.

"I love you, baby sis."

A small smile grew on Helga's face at that age old nick name of her sister's. Normally she would squawk about her hatred of it and how it annoyed her, but she really couldn't say she minded at the moment.

"I love you too."

"Are you in any pain?" Olga tapped her arm splint very delicately.

"You're like my mother," Helga griped.

"Somebody has to keep watch over you," Olga noted. She perked a perfectly manicured eye brow, seemingly daring her for a smart rebuttal.

Helga shook her head, "No, no pain. It's completely numb, in fact."

"They nerve blocked it, though I'm not sure when it will wear off," She paused, "They are not allowing us to give you any sort of pain killers because of your… history. Ibuprofen only."

Olga withdrew from her position on the bed edge and retreated to the bedside chair. The damp spot on her shirt from Helga cry session was almost gone. She began rummaging through her purse, eventually retrieving a packet of tissues and whipping her eyes with them.

Helga stared glumly at her arm, "Crimeny," She whispered, barely audible.

"Are you hungry?" .

She hadn't thought about it since she woke up, but at the mention of potential food, her stomach grumbled aggressively. She couldn't really remember when the last time she ate was. "Maybe a little hungry." She reckoned.

Olga stood from the chair, grabbing her purse off of the nearby counter. "What would you like?"

"I'm sure all of it will make my taste buds cry. Just pick whatever looks least bad. Please."

Even at her very lowest, she still hadn't lost her cynicism.

"All right, I'll be back in a bit," Olga strolled out of the room gracefully.

Helga relaxed back into her pillow, allowing her lids to shut. She remembered now why she avoided crying at all costs. Damn if it wasn't exhausting.

It seemed that just as quick as she left Olga was back. Helga's eyes snapped open to see her carrying a small brown box and a fountain drink of some sort. It smelt like pizza. Hell, it could have been tofu, she didn't care, she would devour anything at the moment.

Olga set the box and drink down on the food tray and swung it over the bed.

"Thank you," She said before demolishing the personal pizza in probably a less-than-graceful way. What could she say? She was starving.

Getting some food in her stomach certainly made her feel 10x better than she did. The over baring bad feeling had subsided a bit, though she still felt utterly exhausted.

"The pizza was great, thank you again for getting it for me," Helga smiled at her sister. The pizza truly wasn't all that bad tasting. Or maybe she was just too hungry to notice.

Olga nodded, "You're welcome."

Helga relaxed back into her bed patting her full belly. A lengthy stretch of peaceful silence erupted between the two.

"Olga, is there any way I can see my baby? I miss her terribly," Helga asked, breaking the silence and glancing at her sister.

She knew she sounded mushy. Even more humorous was that, for once, Helga Pataki didn't care that she sounded sentimental. That's still how she was feeling inside. She hadn't seen her daughter in too long and it gnawed at the deepest walls of her heart.

Olga blinked.

"Well, Grant took her home with him very late last night. She may still be asleep. I can get him to bring her up here later, if you want?" She suggested.

"Yeah," Helga nodded, "I would like that. No offense, but she's the one person in the world that I want to see the most right now."

Olga smiled gingerly, "No offense taken."

"How has she been?"

"She's doing fine. Just misses her mama."

Helga smiled sadly.

It had been a dreadfully long night. Just dreadful. And it had ended with Phoebe dragging Gerald home, kicking and screaming when the sun finally broke the horizon.

She pried her eyes open to the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting across her nostrils. She yawned and stretched, reaching out beside her for a familiar bundle of warmth, but finding only a cool spot. She sat up and rubbed the blur from her eyes, wondering what time it was. Judging by the light outside, she guessed late afternoon, and after finding her glasses, a quick glance at her bed side clock confirmed her suspicion.

The java aroma became more and more concentrated, chasing away the bits of sleep left and alerting her senses. She at least knew Gerald was still in the house. A relieving thought at the moment as she climbed out of bed, and prodded her way to the kitchen.

She was disappointed to find it empty and silent, save for the coffee maker brewing away. Sighing, she grabbed a mug from the cabinet, poured herself a heaping cup and left the room.

When she rounded the corner into their living room she found Gerald seated at the couch, head in his hands. A bottle of Irish whiskey sat on the coffee table in front of him. It was extremely rare of him to ever drag out that bottle, and judging by the steaming mug next to it, she guessed that he was trying to get the most kick from his coffee. It sat next to that ever familiar manila folder that had haunted their residence for some time.

He picked up his head when he heard rustling, catching her eyes when she stopped. His eyes were bloodshot with deep dark circles pitted beneath them and a needely blanket of hair lay across his normally clean shaven face.

He'd never gone to sleep.

"Hey," He said in a hoarse voice, "Sleep well?"

Phoebe's brow creased. She wasn't terribly interested in discussing the quality of her sleep.

"Gerald," She sat down on the coffee table to face him, "Honey, you need to sleep."

"I can't," He shook his head slowly, "I'm just too…angry…" He trailed off, "…I didn't think I could possibly hate her any worse."

Phoebe reached forward and gently grabbed his hand. As vague as he may have sounded, she knew exactly what he meant. He was still as shell-shocked as she was. After all, it hadn't been long ago that he'd clawed at her arm, begging her to confirm that he was hallucinating. She couldn't tell him that though. It would have been such a lie. Instead the two of them had sat in a tense silence, watching the child from afar.

They had watched those familiar green eyes and finally the tell-tale ear to ear smile she flashed them before shyly looking away. She could recall turning to Gerald and seeing him devoid of all color, his jaw muscles tightly clenched. He had then stormed from the room moments later.

"I know…I know," Phoebe replied, sadness in her voice.

Gerald reached passed her and grabbed his mug of coffee, downing most of it in a single gulp, "I just don't understand…I don't understand her. I don't understand how somebody can be like her. So… self absorbed," He guzzled the remaining coffee, "Arnold's probably been doing fucking flips in his grave and…and, and that poor child is probably so screwed up because of her. And I…I can't believe that I—"

"-Gerald," Phoebe interrupted, "This isn't your fault. Nobody could have known."

"But how could I not have known?" He challenged dejectedly, "I'm a cop. I spend my life looking into other peoples backgrounds. How could I have missed this?!"

"You find criminal wrong doings Gerald. You and I both know that the only way it would have shown up in that folder is if she had harmed that child in some way," She reasoned.

Gerald gritted his teeth. He reached around his raven haired companion a second time, retrieving the bottle of whiskey from behind her and pouring a liberal amount into his empty coffee mug, "She would be fucking spotless there…not one goddamn hiccup," He downed the liquid.

"Would you listen to yourself?" Phoebe gaped. Helga was a lot of things, be she wasn't about to sit there and speculate on the mothering capabilities of her former friend.

He ignored her and instead poured himself another liberal shot of whiskey and knocked it back.

"That's enough," She scolded and snatched the bottle from his possession. She quickly located the top on the table, screwed it back on and tossed the bottle into a cushioned chair nearby.

"Sorry," Gerald dropped his head into his hands, "I just never expected there to be a rabbit hole this deep when I opened that folder," He paused, "It's just…overwhelming."

Phoebe leaned forward, tilting his head towards her and cupping his face between her palms. His tired eyes radiated a conflicted anger, "You need to sleep," She pressed again.

Gerald finally deflated and slowly nodded, "I know…"

He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead before standing up and trudging off to their room. He collapsed; face first, onto the bed, not even bothering to undress himself.

Back in the living room, Phoebe let out a relieved sigh, thankful that she'd managed to convince him to get some rest. She stood up and collected the whiskey and coffee mug, replacing the bottle on its rightful shelf in their small liquor cabinet across the room. As she turned to make her way back to the kitchen, she stopped in front of the white board resting in the corner.

She stared at the diagram and the notes that detailed an intense cat and mouse game. The cat had fooled the mouse and the mouse had fleeced the cat.

What would happen next?

Helga didn't know when she had fallen back asleep. She assumed she must have dozed again sometime after she finished eating and talking to her sister. She stretched out her muscles for the millionth time that day, welcoming the expanding burn they conjured.

It looked to be late afternoon outside, judging by the color of the light filtering through the lidded blinds hanging from the window. The day was passing quickly, and no matter how much Helga slept, she still didn't seem to get any closer to feeling well rested. Her body was tired, that was obvious, but her mind was rather restless. She heard a one sided conversation taking place across the room to her right and her eyes curiously investigated.

"That's just what she said," She watched Olga say into her cell phone. "I…I honestly don't know," Her sister stood some feet away, leaning against the door frame, facing the hall way, "Well regardless, I've got some things I've got to discuss with you later so we'll figure out something then," She paused, listening, "Oh, geez, I don't know. I guess it'll be okay to park there."

"I know they don't clearly mark anything," She paused, "304. All right, see you in a bit."

She stood there a little longer, scrolling her index down her phone and browsing at something. She finally blackened the screen and turned away from the hallway, smiling when she caught her sister's eyes, "I was just about to wake you up."

Helga chuckled tiredly, "I beat you to it."

Olga glided across the room to the nearby counter and retrieved her purse, "I'm surprised. You were out like a light," She said, as she slipped her phone back inside of the bag.

"I know," Helga groaned, "I don't even remember falling asleep."

She sat up a little further and inhaled a deep breath as she cracked her neck a few times to relieve the stiffness. Hospital beds were the worlds worse. Then again, she had slept on worst than this on more than a few occasions in her life. Who was she to complain?

"So, is somebody coming up?" She inquired, still trying to wiggle the kinks out of her body.

"Just Grant, the boys and Sender."

Helga grinned as a warm and happy feeling ran through her. Olga had kept her promise.

"Thank you," She said, "For getting Grant to bring her up here."

Olga waved her off and smiled.

They sat in silence, listening to the pad of footsteps up and down the hallway until the wrap of knuckles against metal stirred their attention. Grant stepped through the threshold of the door frame with a grin. Sender and his youngest son Scott trailed behind him chatting amongst themselves.

"Hey!" Grant greeted.

"Hey!" His wife lit up. She hopped up out the chair and closed the distance between them, giving him a peck on the lips.

"Turns out," He pulled back from their kiss, "I was able to park there."

"Good," Olga nodded.

Grant's brown eyes wandered from his wife to his sister-in-law perched in the bed across the small room, "How are you feeling kiddo?" He crossed his arms as if he were there to inspect the situation.

Helga snorted, rolling her eyes at his terminology. She was very well aware that he was trying to act normal in a tense and probably awkward situation and, for the most part, she appreciated it.

"Like I've been run over by a truck," She wise-cracked, though it wasn't entirely a joke.

Grant winced and shook his head, "Well, for future reference, just so you know, we like having you around, so don't try anything again, okay?" He said and cracked a small, but loving smile.

Helga genuinely grinned and gave him a two fingered salute with her left hand.

"Dear, where are Brett and Daniel?" Olga interrupted, a mild amount of concern crossing her face as she glanced back towards the doorway in search of her oldest and middle son.

Her husband turned and quirked an eyebrow confusingly, "What do you mean? They're at a friend's house."

"Oh," Olga exhaled, "I thought you said you had the boys with you."

Grant chuckled, pulling her into a sideways hug, "I probably did out of habit," He kissed the top of her head. "Or you're losing your mind," He teased.

"Probably the later," She admitted.

While her Aunt and Uncle continued chatting about her cousins, Sender weaved around them and straight to her Mother. She smiled a toothy grin at her and Helga brightened.

"Hey sweetheart," Helga greeted her.

"Hi mama," Sender replied as she clumsily climbed up onto the edge of the bed and flung her arms tightly around Helga.

"I've missed you," Helga breathed, wrapping her left arm around the girl tightly.

"I missed you too."

Helga would have loved to have stayed like that, but her body just wouldn't allow it. Sender wasn't heavy by any means, but the right side of her upper body just as bruised and tender as could be.

"Sweetie," She patted Sender on the back, "How about you roll over to the side here," She removed her arm and patted the channel of space beside her.

Sender peeked up at Helga and then with a huge grin proceeded to climb over her body and settle in beside her. In the process, Helga took knee to the gut, causing her that horribly uncomfortable feeling of rocketing down the first big hill on a rollercoaster.

Kids, She sighed mentally, clenching her jaw, Bless their hearts.

"Helga..."

She looked up with a pained expression still firmly perched on her face as she tried to rub the spot out with her palm.

"We're just going to run and grab a bite to eat. Will you be all right?" Olga asked as she grabbed her purse and flung it over her shoulder.

"Yeah," Helga nodded, "I'll be fine. You guys go. I'll see you in a bit."

She watched them leave before turning her attention back to the small girl now plopped down beside her, and resting her head on her shoulder. Helga lifted her arm up and put it around her so she could be more comfortable. The gut punched feeling in her stomach had finally subsided, thankfully.

Helga tilted her head at her silent daughter, curious about her muteness. She saw her staring intently across her body, the gears in her head churning away at something.

"Did you break your arm?" Sender suddenly asked. Her eyes were fixated on Helga's right arm as if it were an unbearably strong magnet.

Helga smirked, "Nah. I ran with scissors."

The girl giggled, and shook her head, "No you didn't."

"Uh huh," Helga assured. "I fell and got cut. That's why you should never do that."

"Oh," Sender's eyes became large as she shifted her glance from her mom's arm to her face. She gulped before looking back down, "Does it hurt?"

"Not right now. It will though..." Helga replied, unenthusiastically, mentally groaning at her own reminder of how that was going to feel once that block wore off. It wasn't going to be pretty that's for sure.

"Mom, how much longer do I have to stay with Grandma and Grandpa?"

Helga sighed, and tilted her head, looking down at her daughter again, "I don't know, why?"

"'Cause, I'm tired of staying with them. They're boring!" Sender huffed, clearly agitated with her current living situation. She looked back up at Helga, her small brows furrowed together and her mouth down turned in an unhappy scowl.

Helga laughed, unable to suppress the giggles brewing in her chest. Oh, she was just precious when she was disgruntled. Sender did a pitiful job of 'angry.' She truly did. No matter how hard she tried, she just ended up becoming more adorable.

"Boring?" She repeated, laughter still threading her voice.

The young girl nodded adamantly, "They don't like to go to the park or color or paint or play games or any fun stuff like that."

"Well sweetheart, they're old. Sometimes old people don't like doing stuff like that."

Sender exhaled and looked down, that scowl still as prominent as ever on her little face. Helga had to bite her bottom lip rather hard to keep from laughing, "I told Grandpa and Grandma that they're not fun like you are."

A snicker escaped Helga's throat, despite her best attempts to keep anymore laughter suppressed.

"So, I guess if I'm fun then I'm not old and boring huh?" She humored her daughter.

"No, you're young!" Sender fervently nodded.

Helga gave her a squeeze, still giggling, "I'm so flattered that you think so."

"So, I'm sure you've been doing a bunch of fun things in school though, huh?"

"…I don't like school anymore," Sender shook her head.

"And why not?"

"'Cause there's this kid in my class that's mean to me."

Helga blinked, "Well, what did this kid do?"

Sender's face down turned, "He's just mean. He picks on me and calls me names."

Helga sighed, shaking her head with a slight chuckle, "Oh, a boy huh? What's his name?"

Sender perked an eyebrow and glanced upwards at her mom, "His names Riley… and he's stupid," She huffed.

"Sender, he likes you."

The young girls face puckered into sheer repulsiveness, "But! But he threw a rock at me the other day!" She protested.

"So? Throw one back—ah, on second thought, don't," Helga quickly amended, "You don't need to be getting into trouble. Trust me, he's just being mean to you because he likes you, that's all."

"Eww," Sender wrinkled her nose, "I don't like him."

Helga gave her a squeeze,"Well I guess you'll just have to ignore him then."

The girl nodded, "I'll try. He's just so annoying," She yawned, tucking her head back against Helga's inner shoulder.

"Are you sleepy?" Helga asked.

Sender nodded again, her eye lids drooping like heavy weights, "Uncle Grant didn't take me home till late."

"Well, if you want to nap it's okay. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Promise?" Sender asked.

"I promise," Helga reassured. "I love you," She whispered.

It didn't take long before Sender was out cold. She hadn't been kidding when she said she was sleepy.

Helga stroked her daughter's soft blonde locks while resting her cheek against the top of her head. She quietly listened to the shallow rhythmic intake of her breath, finding it incredibly soothing.

It was nice to feel even slightly normal for a moment. Though, she felt a little guilty about being able to laugh after everything. She could argue that it was the years of pretending that nothing was wrong that allowed her to turn on the pleasant facade. But, Sender always did have a way of lighting her up inside, even in her most down and terrible moods.

She was suddenly filled with a surge of nostalgia. A feeling that heavily reminded her of the few non-turbulent things in her life. The lazy Sunday afternoons that she and Sender would spend catnapping on the couch and watching movies. Mostly because she was hung over or burnt out on a 'suicide-tuesday.' Or the occasions when she'd wake up in the morning to find a little blonde mass snuggled up to her in bed from a bad dream the prior night.

Near death had been something. Sure, she'd been swiped by the reaper's blade in an accidental overdose months prior, but this time around, the impact was deep and jarring. Intentionally seeking death was far more paramount to ones mental health than happening upon it by accident. That was for sure. And she had intended to die; satisfied with canceling out her own hopeless future.

But that hadn't happened.

Imagine her surprise when her eyes cracked the light of day and everything started flooding back into her mind. Nobody ever talked about the intensity of emotions. Nobody ever talked about the intensity of regret.

Waking up to find Olga with her brought on a gust of emotional remorse she could no more explain than she could help. But even that didn't hold a candle to the amount of guilt and shame that consumed her when she thought about her daughter.

The person she'd wanted to see the most.

In her eyes, Sender was most perfect little being in the world. The one person who had kept her tethered to reality, even if only by a single thread. It now frightened her to know that she'd reached a point in her life where even her own flesh and blood hadn't been enough to stop her from wanting to hang on.

And what did that say about her character?

It said that she really didn't deserve to be a parent. An assessment that made her stomach churn. She physically felt sick recalling the splintered thoughts she'd reassured herself with while she lay in a pool of blood. How she'd selfishly convinced herself that Sender didn't need her. She didn't need the one parent she had. She'd be fine, she was a trooper, she was a good kid.

Jesus Christ, could she have been anymore selfish?

Truthfully, no matter what she may have tried to convince herself of, a little voice in her head said that it wouldn't have fared well. And she knew it was correct. It sent a chill up her spine and an even worse feeling knotted itself in her stomach.

She loved that child more than anything else in the world and she was failing her miserably. She had an obligation to get this right, and she'd made a promise to do so, but so far everything had been derailed. It took more than just staying alive too. She wouldn't be able to hide what she was from her forever. Sender would eventually come to know her as a drunk and a drug addict.

She certainly didn't want that, and it seemed easy enough to change, but she knew better. If it had been that easy, she would have stopped years ago.

With that being said, she was livid with herself because she knew very well the consequences of the type of parenting that she was engaging in to a certain extent. She knew exactly what it could result in. A child who walked around with a major chip on her shoulder.

The idea of Sender becoming a broody, angry pre-teen and snowballing into a troubled adult all because 'mommy didn't love her enough' or never paid enough attention left an awful taste in her mouth.

She didn't want Sender to become a monster. She might have been one, but that didn't mean she had to raise one.

Of course, every eye-opening realization she'd finally been enlightened with would be right out the door if things went south. She couldn't forget the reason why she was laying in a hospital bed with a splinted arm.

It was one of the two things that had been at the forefront of her mind ever since she'd opened her eyes.

Jail.

She quietly groaned and closed her eyes. She really didn't feel like thinking about it. She was calm, she had her child, and she just wanted to be. It was impossible to ignore though.

She didn't want to be a murderer. Nor did she want Sender growing up knowing reality as: Her mother sat in jail for killing her father.

The cold logic of her mind was certain that she was a murderer though. But sitting there, in the rarity of peacefulness, it felt all wrong. Like an ill-fitting jacket. She had declared that she didn't put anything past herself anymore, and she'd awakened that day clinging to that same belief, but something Olga said earlier made her question what she really did know about herself.

Could the same heart that held her most intense feelings of love have the capability of being dark and cold as well? She and Arnold weren't a perfect couple. By any means. They had their ups, their downs, they fought, and constantly towards the end. They had clicked perfectly just a little more than they had not.

She found it hard to believe that she could be the icy hearted being who pulled the trigger and killed the guy she loved while also being the person who, despite her pitfalls, had been a loving girlfriend and then a loving mother to their daughter.

Her mind was starting to scream bloody murder. Guns, blackouts, abrasiveness, suicide, Lila…

It wasn't getting its way.

She chose to ignore it because she just couldn't reconcile those two perceptions together anymore, like she had the prior night. They couldn't possibly exist in the same body.

It wasn't often that she did this, but she agreed to give herself the benefit of the doubt.

She'd eluded death twice now. Miraculously. And though she had never put much stock in religious connotations, she had to admit, it felt like somebody or some thing wanted her alive.

Maybe it was her second chance to figure everything out.

Whatever it was, whatever the reason, life didn't seem to want to be done with her yet. It would be hard moving past here, but she'd do it. She'd do everything in her power to convince Gerald that she wasn't as evil as he thought. She'd do everything in her power to stay out of jail. She'd do everything in her power to stay clean for good. And she'd do whatever it took to be a good mom again.

She planted a soft kiss on the top of Sender's head, "I'm going to try and not screw this up for us anymore," She whispered, "I'm sincerely going to try."

A/N: Sorry guys, took a while to update, I know. It took so long partly because I wrote three different versions of this chapter. I ended up settling with this one because it felt more organic for the situation. I know Helga has a habit of being sarcastic and grouchy all the time, but I think in this situation, even she would bare all and be overly emotional about everything. Also, as I'm sure you observed, she and Olga are, to a certain degree, very close. You'll find out in later chapters how they developed that bond, but Olga does lay hint to it in this chapter. Also, I brought Sender back and had Helga do a little bit of self reflecting on herself as a human being and as a mother. Anyway, thank you guys for reviewing and keeping up with this story! R&R it keeps me motivated.