Author's Note: I do not own these characters. But I do love them.
This story does not follow the Jungle Movie - think of that as a dream. This is post FTi only.

5.

"OOF!" The wind was knocked clean out of Arnold's lungs and his head ached where their heads had collided.

"What the hell, Patty!?" Helga was sliding off of Arnold's back and onto the ground.

"Are you ok, Helga?" Arnold choked out.

"Yeah yeah - I'm fine. Criminy she really packs a punch."

"What was that about?" Arnold was slowly getting to his feet and reached out a hand to Helga. She looked at his hand maybe a moment too long before answering.

"Nothing - boxing stuff. She still hits harder than me. I kinda asked for it - so." She took his hand and he pulled her up but - "Woah."

Helga's hand reflexively slapped her forehead to stop the world from spinning - it didn't help.

"Oh - woah. You lightheaded? We really hit our heads together, huh? Let's get you sat down." Arnold was still holding her hand and reached around and took her arm too.

"Hands off, Football head! Who said you could touch me?" Helga couldn't resist the impulse to push him away.

"Cut it out, Helga. Just let me help you!"

"I don't need your-" Helga's tone was strong but her head betrayed her again. "Well, yeah, Ok."

"Thank you - now, come on." Arnold was finally moving her toward the patio couch. Helga would usually be pissed off that Patty hit her that hard, that someone had knocked her off her feet so easy. But she had to hand it to the big gal - she knew exactly what she was doing and Helga's heart was beating wildly at Arnold's touch. Thanks, Patty.

"Ok - sit down. But slowly," Arnold said. He positioned himself on his knees a little lower than eye level with Helga as she perched on the edge of the couch. He gently touched the back of Helga's head and found a swelling knot there. Helga winced, squeezing her eyes shut.

And it was there, in the darkness and tension of that pain that Helga felt something incredible: Two hands sliding softly, one along each cheek, to cup her face and hold it in place. As Helga opened her eyes, which she prayed didn't betray her panic, she found Arnold looking directly back at her. His gaze was intent. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Well - I don't think - I don't think you have a concussion. Your pupils are dialating."

"Huh - what?" Helga realized that her ears were flushed and burning and she hadn't heard a damn thing he said. But she was coming back to reality now.

"Your pupils are dialating. You have a nasty bump on your head, but -" Arnold was sinking a little lower on his knees and let his hands slide from her cheeks. Helga's heart dropped momentarily until Arnold let one hand rest on her thigh. "I don't think you have a concussion. You feeling ok?"

"Ha, yeah. Being dizzy isn't - I have a pretty hard head." Helga said in a low voice. Briefly she thought if she spoke too loudly the isolated bubble she found herself in, just off to the side of the party with him, might burst.

"Yeah, I would have to agree," Arnold gingerly touched his own head too. "I'm gonna go get us some water."

"You don't have to do that, football head." Arnold waved his trailing hand as he walked back into the kitchen. He fully expected her to stay right there - which was good because Helga didn't think she could move if she tried anyway.

Helga had never given up on Arnold, not really. She still loved him with every fiber of her young body - and it was still her worst fear to have that knowledge exposed to the cold light of day. Of course Helga still had a life, she dated - a little - kinda - she hooked up a couple of times with a couple of people, some more consistent than others. But no one had ever formally taken her on a date - unless you counted the dinner she had with a 9 year old Arnold while she was in disguise as a French girl named Cecile. Helga privately did count it.

Helga hadn't ever stopped picking on Arnold either, but her ferocity and frequency were affected by her growing list of responsibilities and activities. She had a job at a local thrift shop and she attended a couple of writing intensives over the years; she joined the Boxing Club at Dr. Bliss' suggestion, as a way to exert her more violent energies; in a similar effort, Helga made it her mission to see as many Wrestlemania shows in person as possible before graduation (this was her idea though, not Dr. Bliss'). As they got older, Helga often only depressed herself when she would bully Arnold, so she did it less and less - though that didn't preclude the common insults or sarcastic comebacks in casual conversation. Helga's reputation as tough and sharp tongued was intact, but she didn't need much to keep that going at this point.

Arnold strolled back toward her with two glasses of water - not red solo cups, but glasses from the cabinets.

"Here you go. I don't like the static feeling of drinking water out of solo cups, so -" he said.

"So, sensitive," Helga scoffed lightly. "Thanks, foot - I mean - Arnold." He sat down next to her, chuckling.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Helga spat.

"Don't give me that attitude - if I hadn't made you sit down you probably would've gone after Patty and you'd be fully passed out by now."

"Oh thank you, great savior, oh gracious Arnoldo - is that better? Is that what you want? Helga couldn't help the edge in her voice, and she worried it would push him away prematurely. But to her relief, he laughed.

"You are such a pain in the ass," he said. Helga smiled back.

"Yeah, yeah. So, I've been told." Helga took just a moment to swallow a little bit of pride and said, " thanks, I guess."

"You are welcome. What are friends for?" He said it so casually, she almost didn't catch it.

"Friends?"

"Yes, Helga, we're friends." Arnold rolled his eyes. "We've known each other our whole lives. I would call us friends."

"I don't know, man. My gut feeling is closer to arch enemies than friends."

"Ha - yeah that works too." He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. Arnold's mind was suddenly swimming in a memory. He was on top of a building - Helga was there. Wearing a trenchcoat. "Although, if I remember correctly - " but then he thought better of it. Maybe it was a dream.

"What?" Helga's heart skipped a beat.

"Nothing - it just slipped right out of my brain." What was he going to say? Arnold felt his cheeks flush and hoped she didn't see it. She was finally speaking calmly - he didn't want to give Helga another reason to rag on him. So, he changed the subject. "You got a date for Homecoming, yet?" That wasn't what he meant to say.

"Ha! No. Of course not!" Helga reclined back as she scoffed - happy for the change of subject.

"Really? I thought you and Jeremy -" but Helga cut him off.

"Oh god no. No, we are not dating."

"He really likes you, you know?" Arnold sat back next to her, confident that his blush had subsided.

"Yeah, yeah I know. I mean, we've done - uh -" Helga didn't mean to say that at all. "Stuff but…"

"Stuff?" Arnold laughed.

"Shut up. He's not my boyfriend or anything and I sure as shit ain't going to Homecoming with him." Helga took another gulp of water.

"Why not? He's smart, he's nice. You have the whole writing thing in common -"

"What about you?! You and that summer girlfriend of yours planning on - "

"Nope."

"I thought - "

"Yeah, no. Erica broke up with me back in August." Arnold was pleased to find that he didn't feel much when he said it this time. He adjusted in his seat, more comfortable now, and somewhere at the back of his mind he was aware of his arm pressed against Helga's.

Helga was stunned, but only for a moment.

"Whadyoodoo, hair boy?" She gave him a sidelong look and a smirk.

"Ah you know - I was just a little too," he was searching for the words that would sound the least pathetic, "much for her."

"Hey, I get that, man. But anyone who thinks you're too much isn't worth the time anyway. Her loss." Helga drained her cup. She understood 'too much'.

Arnold, surprised at this response, said "Thanks, Helga." He turned his head to look at her and as she lowered her cup, he caught her eye. The glow from inside gave him a soft, warm aura. Helga could barely breathe at the sight of him.

Finally, she managed - "Yeah yeah, whatever!" Helga leaned forward and stood up. Her speed shocked Arnold out of his slight daze. He lurched forward after her.

"Hey, be careful."

"I'm ok, Arnold. Seriously." She felt a lot better and got to her feet without issue. "I think I need to find Phoebe."

"Oh, yeah, sure. It is getting pretty late - oh shit, it's 2am." Arnold was looking at his watch. "Yeah I should find Gerald too."

6.

The party was becoming unruly - in that 2 am kind of way. Time had slowed, inhibitions had lowered, and the music was turned up real loud. Moving through the crowd was a slow process.

"I don't see them anywhere, do you?" Arnold said into Helga's ear. She was about 2 inches taller than him so he assumed she could see more, but all Helga could think about was Arnold's breath on her neck. She shook her head. "Last we saw them they were in the bathroom. Maybe they took one of the beds - Phoebe probably had to lie down."

Arnold took the lead, squeezing through a blob of dancing bodies, taking Helga's hand to pull her through. Helga suddenly felt light headed again, but it had nothing to do with the knot on the back of her head.

As they reached the hallway with the doors to the bathroom and guest rooms, a short, curvy girl with curly hair was walking back into the fray, looking worried (maybe frustrated was the word). But first she stopped to ask, "Hey Arnold, have you seen Iggy? I can't find that dumbass anywhere. You were talking to him earlier - "

"Hi Maria. Yeah, but I haven't seen him in an hour or more. I know he was - we were talking about you, I'm sure he's looking for you too." Helga rolled her eyes listening to Arnold running interference from a 3rd tier friend. Helga moved forward, opening the door to the bathroom, empty - but there was Phoebe's phone next to the sink. There were a couple of texts from her mom - asking if she was sleeping over at Helga's tonight. Helga deftly opened the phone with her best friend's passcode (a niche math based joke only Phoebe would find funny) and replied to her mom in her best impression:

Hi Mother! 3 So sorry for the delay. I left my phone in the bathroom - yes, I will be having a sleepover with Helga tonight. I love you and I will call you in the morning! We are off to bed now!

Arnold walked in behind her now. "Is that Phoebe's?"

"Yeah - they must have passed out. She wouldn't leave this otherwise."

"I think there are two or three guest rooms on this hallway."

Helga followed Arnold out. Helga went two doors down and Arnold went to the first. Helga was the winner though. She found Phoebe sprawled out on the bed, relegating about a 5th of the space for Gerald, which he took happily, snoring. She was about to signal to Arnold when -

"IGGY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" Arnold was standing in the doorway and yelling. If it hadn't been for the music, the whole party would have screeched to a halt. Helga threw Phoebe's phone at the bed and darted over.

"What the hell are you shouting about, Football head?"

But when she looked into the room she about got the picture. Iggy was disheveled and scrambling for a pillow to conceal himself and Dodie/Sarah was hurriedly putting her shirt back on - backwards. "Hey Arnold - can you keep your voice down, man?"

"Maria is looking for you! We were just talking about how - "

"Yeah yeah, I know! I was actually trying to follow your advice!"

"How is this following my advice, Iggy?" Arnold's eyes were wide, his jaw slack. Helga was cackling freely.

Iggy stood up and wobbled dangerously, Dodie/Sarah rushed past Iggy and Arnold and sneered at Helga - then she disappeared back into the party. It was clear Iggy was very drunk - why was Arnold even trying, Helga wondered.

"I went right up to Maria - and I - I I kissed her. And I sssaid 'i want you baby, right here and now' - and she slapped me! She slapped me, Arnold!" Iggy was in Arnold's face for the second time that night, but his breath was much worse now.

"Iggy, back up, back up man."

"Hey Arnold -" Helga was batting at his arm because she saw something he did not. "Arnold?"

"Hold on, Helga." Not even looking her way, he continued, "I'm sure that you aren't seeing this clearly - and now you are just sabotaging -"

"AAArnold!"

"What!?" Arnold turned wide eyed - but before Helga could say anything, Maria burst between them and right into Iggy's chest, tackling him back into the room.

"DID I JUST SEE DODIE COMING OUT OF THIS ROOM SHIRTLESS?" Ah - it was Dodie! Helga could see Arnold leaning in, his foot lifted to step in - but Helga grabbed him by the collar and pulled him from the room. The front door was in sight, slightly ajar from the last patrons who left.

"Helga - Helga stop! I just - this is -" Arnold was sputtering and choking but Helga was halfway through the foyer. She spun Arnold around in front of her, she kicked the door back with her heel and pushed him onto the front stoop. She was right on his tail, and once she cleared the threshold, she slammed the door.

"Criminy, Arnold! This is not your fight!"

"He asked me - " He reached for the handle. "My advice - "

"No, you schmuck! This is a them problem - not a you problem." She had her hands up, standing firm. She was still an intimidating force. He stepped back and down a couple of stairs.

"This is my fault, Helga." He was defeated.

"How? How the hell is this your fault?" Helga stepped down to the bottom of the stoop, no longer afraid that Arnold would burst back into the house.

"I told him that he should show her he wants her and -"

"He's drunk. He's horny. And that relationship has been sour for months." Arnold sat down, looking rather pathetic. "It has nothing to do with you."

He looked up at her, slightly nodding his head. "Yeah - I know you're right. I just thought that- "

"I know what you thought." Helga cut him off, digging in her pocket.

"Oh yeah, what was I thinking?" He watched her pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. It was quiet out here and the air was cool and still. Helga pulled out a cigarette and lit it with only mild awkwardness. Arnold didn't really like smoking, but he noticed as the smoke encircled her head in the light of the streetlamps; she had an ethereal quality for a moment.

Exhaling, Helga said, "You were thinking you were saving young love. You thought that you were helping a friend in need. You were thinking this relationship was worth saving - because stasis is peace, and peace is good. Good is Happiness."

He listened to her, surprised at her insight. She continued, "But the truth is, football head, that most high school relationships - especially those of our peers, as far as I can tell - are going to end bloody. But that's life. Hell, that's adolescence. And all those little tragedies that feel so big today are important. They have to happen. So that one day, Iggy in there is ready for bigger, harder tragedies." She took another drag of her cigarette and said on the inhale, "It's not the end of the world, it's the way of it."

Arnold was quiet for a moment, listening to Helga exhale and take another drag. He found himself searching his feelings. A pit had formed in his stomach and he wasn't sure why. His mind wandered back to Erica sitting in front of him on his roof, the letter in her hands. Her face was stone, totally unreadable when she said 'I don't love you and I don't think you know what love is.' At that moment, Arnold had realized that maybe he didn't know. No, not maybe. She was right. He knew desire and flirtation and affection. He knew what it felt like to help people. He knew what it felt like to be needed. He knew what it felt like to ache in empathy with a person he cared about - but now he was truly confused about how love, romantic love, anway, fit into all of that. That thought felt tethered somehow to the pit now plaguing him.

"Do you believe in love, Helga?" She started coughing, violently.

Helga coughed hard enough that she saw stars. Arnold was on his feet, smacking her on the back.

"Why do you smoke those things?"

Grateful for the change in subject, Helga said, "They make me look cool, obviously!" She smiled weakly. "Ah get off me, Arnold."

"How long have you smoked, anyway?"Arnold asked, leaning against the pillar of the stairs.

"Well, Olga smokes 'em and I found out about 6 months ago, and so -"

"So you're blackmailing her?" Arnold guessed with a smile.

"Essentially. She doesn't want the parents to know so I make her buy them for me every now and then." Helga turned to look down the street and flicked the butt to the ground. "They give ya a little buzz. Make me all shivery…" A moment of easy silence passed between them

" Well, I think it's that time, football head." Helga said, about to take off- hoping he forgot all about his question.

"You mind if I walk with you?"

"Whatever floats your boat, hair boy." Arnold, hands in his pockets, followed up and they headed towards Helga's house, into the dusty blue night.

7.

They didn't speak much between Rhonda's and Helga's. It seemed enough just to walk near each other. Arnold was daydreaming, naturally, letting his feet take him away, letting Helga lead him homeward. He found himself thinking of Iggy and Dodie - before they realized he had caught them. Dodie had her legs wrapped around Iggy's waist, she had her hands in his hair, clutching him to her. Iggy had one hand smoothing down her lower back, his fingertips sinking beneath the edge of her jeans - while the other was firmly pressed to her chest, one breast in his hand.

Quickly, the characters faded and were replaced with Arnold himself and that anonymous partner. He let the bodies dance in his mind for a while. He realized he craved it, a warm embrace that let his mind turn off - just be. It was a nice distraction from the stress he was still carrying. The older he got, the more stress lingered long after a problem was solved. Maybe Helga was right - he wasn't too much, but he held a lot. Did people think he let it all roll off of him?

"Welp, this is me." Helga broke the silence. Arnold looked up and found she was standing at the bottom of her stoop, looking at him. A rare soft gaze on her face.

"Yeah" They both stood there awkwardly for a moment, looking at each other. Arnold realized he had something to say. "Thanks for tonight, Helga."

"Wha-what do you mean, f-football head?"

"I don't know - for - for" There was something in his mind he couldn't quite put his finger on. In this pause, Helga nodded and walked up the stairs. Finally, he said, "For seeing me."

Helga gasped ever so inaudibly. A tender moment - a real moment - don't fuck this up, Helga ol' girl! "Yeah well that weird head of yours is hard to miss, so-" Damn it.

Arnold clapped back, "Helga, I mean it!" Only sharp enough to get her attention. "I just mean that you called me on my shit, and I think it's made me realize something."

"W-what's that?" Helga grabbed at her left arm with her right, trying to slow her breathing.

"I don't quite know yet - but still, thanks." He smiled.

"What are friends for?" Helga managed.

"Good night, Helga."

"Good night, Arnold."

As he turned toward home, Helga let out the tiniest of sighs. Arnold seemed to hear something on the wind.