For Her
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A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched
Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging.
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All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer. Oatmeal and cheese... oatmeal and cheese.... la dee da deee daaaahhhhh. Mooo. Muh? Elephant! Er, yeah. Right on.
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AN: And the plot thickens like Easy Mac! W00t! Many loose ends get all tied up in this chapter, all pppuuurrrdddyyy like (I hope...) And forgive me, I don't know much about planes. If it doesn't make sense, remember how crappy of a plane it is!
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Chapter Thirteen: Death
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Point of View: Arnold
Time: Future
Location: The Oblivion
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I gasped, looking back at my wife, who was holding our daughter's blanket. This had to be some kind of joke, how could she not know me? The same girl who had built shrines to me back when she was younger. "You don't who I am." I didn't ask her, I stated it.
"Should I?" She asked back, and I shuddered. "After all the crap you put me through, Alfred," she sneered, using the name for me that her father had called me by, "I waited years. You never called. Not once. You told me you cared..." she continued to ramble on this topic. I stopped her quickly. "
What on Earth are you talking about?" I asked, worried.
"Oh that's right, Einstein, you obviously don't remember me. You barely even waved goodbye to me when I moved to New York all those years ago. You never called. You never wrote. You never cared."
I closed my eyes, trying to remain calm, "Helga, please, just tell me how you got here! I want to help!" She looked me square in the eyes. "You didn't even bother to come to my funeral. Nothing turned out as it should have, Arnold. Nothing. The timeline was broken, I didn't get to go to heaven. I was put here, Arnold. If you hadn't broken it, Arnold..." she sobbed. "And look at you, you don't care. You just don't care."
"Please, trust me." I whispered into her ear. "Why did she have Princess's blanket then?" I pondered silently. "If I'm from the true timeline, why am I here instead of me from the alternate timeline?" Helga began to cry a little louder. "And... " she sniffed "You musta' died too. How?"
"I didn't die, Helga, I'm from the real timeline."
"If was all real, Arnold. I'm real, you're real. You died Arnold. You're dead, just like me. Our hearts, Arnold. It's our hearts. We couldn't take it anymore. We could never be apart."
I looked down at the fading, worn, pink blanket in Helga's hands. "And if we died, our daughter would never be born..."
Helga half smiled "I think I'd rather like your timeline, if I wasn't so... ugh at you."
"I'm sorry. I don't know what happened to you, but the same, I'm sorry." I paused. "Wait, if I died in both timelines, how come there isn't two if me? Or if there isn't two of me, why don't I know the other reality along with my own?"
"You do, Arnold. You're not looking hard enough." She scoffed, as if it was obvious. I was torn. What had I done to ever hurt her like this? I tried to concentrate and remember his other-timeline actions, but to no avail. Sadly, I looked up. She was facing away from me now.
"Why are you mad at me? You know both timelines, Helga. I've been a faithful husband, please," I paused to think, then said the only words that could even began to describe... "Please, don't hate me!"
She turned back around, lowering your eyes. Her voice was cold. "There's someone in our pasts that shouldn't be there. Someone who doesn't want us to be together." She took a deep breath. "But I have a hunch, Arnold, he didn't know what he was getting into. He didn't want us dead. He wanted us to suffer."
"Pardon???"
"Look inside, Arnold. Tell me, please" Helga was beginning to sob again. "Tell me if could be anything other then that." Her voice grew grave. "But if you did, Arnold, you'd be fooling yourself. You might be good at that, but you can never fool me."
I closed my eyes once more, concentrating as hard as I could. "Give me something to go on, Helga." I said softer then I had anticipated to. I got a little louder. "Around the time you think the timelines split."
"Seventh grade, Arnold. Think seventh grade."
Seventh grade. It had been a good year, as I recall, of course, the fond times that I recalled were from my own timeline. Myself and Helga had gotten closer, and though not exactly considering ourselves an item, we knew we would be eventually. It had been the year that I had given Helga a new locket (she got a kick out of that, as I recall), and the year we shared our first real kiss. I looked back over at Helga, who was holding the tattered blanket close to her, tears streaming down her face. I closed my eyes once more.
I could see it. My own stupidity. How could I have ever acted like this? There were no excuses, I should have known better! Even if someone had gone back in time to change things, to change me, I STILL SHOULD HAVE KNOWN! I was angry at myself for being so dense more then the person who had changed my blissful reality.
Eugene
getting beat up day after day, and I didn't help. Acting like a jerk
to Gerald and ruining our friendship. And watching, watching the
Pataki's car drive far away, and not running after it. I wished I
were dead. I gave a short laugh at that thought. What was I thinking?
I was dead.
"Well,
then. I wish I would have died sooner." I mumbled out loud,
sarcastically.
Helga spun around. "What did you say?" Her voice was low and frantic.
"Forget it."
"I refuse to. What the heck did you say?"
"I wish I would have died sooner." I mumbled again.
She glared at me. "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say. Never, I repeat, never" her voice got louder, echoing within the vast nothingness, "say that again!" She paused for a moment, clinching her fists. "The timeline diverged when we were in 7th grade. Up to that time when some idiot tinkered with our lives, you were the most amazing person I had ever had the honor of knowing."
I shook my head. "You're misunderstanding me, Helga." I took a deep breath. "I know how I died, now..."
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Point of View: Arnold
Time: Present
Place: Altered Timeline
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"Are you sure that the pilot can land this thing?" I asked from my seat. I was buckled up tightly, but a foreboding feeling had taken over me anyway. The stewardess rolled her eyes at me, and blew a big bubble from a ridiculously large wad of gum she had just put in her mouth. I wished it would have popped and gotten stuck in her mousy brown hair.
"Yeah, kid. He's landed one of these before. How much harder can it be with people on board it?"
I really didn't like that answer. "So, he's only flown commercially once?"
"No, no, you've got it wrong, taco face" She tugged at her gum a little, then stuck it back in her mouth. "This is the first time he's flown commercially. The size of plane shouldn't matter that much, either, now should it?"
"That isn't safe!!" I protested, gaining a death-grip on my seat.
"Heck, what were you expecting for such cheap tickets?"
I grimaced as the pilot came over the intercom. "Um, hey there, peoples! Your pilot's speakin' to ya's. Hope you had a nice flight, and um, we're landing. Oh yeah, buckle in!" I heard a click, and guessed that was him turning off the intercom. He must have supposed he had too, and yet we still heard his voice loud and clear over it. We heard the sound of pages ruffling. "Okay, chapter eight, 'How to Land a Plane'"
Someone in the back yelled out first, "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!!"
The whole cabin of the plane was in a frenzy. While some people were screaming and crying, I saw still others, fear etched in their faces, clasping their hands, lowering their heads, and praying.
"God," I whispered, eyes shut tight, "If we don't survive this, let Helga know I love her, and that..." I cleared my throat, trying not to get too emotional, "And, please, Lord, let her know how much..." The plane was going down, fast, at a painful angle. People tried to brace themselves, and still others unbuckled in a final act of defiance. My lip had gone numb from how hard I was biting it, and the rusty taste of blood filled my mouth. Tears escaped out of the corner of my closed eyes.
I didn't even hear the sound of the plane crashing over the wails of the dying passengers. In a frenzy, I broke open the window next to me, the glass cutting into my hand deeply. The fire around all of us burned even hotter as it lapped at our flesh and consumed our belongings, and the smoke grew so thick that I had to stay low to the ground to breathe. Every survival instinct in me told me to just jump out of that window that I had broken, yet everything in my heart told me that I wasn't going to make in anyway.
I spotted a woman, holding close to her a tiny baby. She too, was crawling on the floor, gasping for breath. "Help" she whispered, her voice rough from the smoke and the pain. Another explosion sounded, and I knew time was growing short. "The window." I pointed up to the one I had broken. We were up at the front of the plane, so it was closer to the ground then the windows back further on the plane. "I don't know how far of a drop it is, but it's the only way out." Others had tried the emergency doors, but they had been jammed shut on impact. She nodded, determination in her eyes. She thanked me briefly, and then, hugging the baby closely, got up to the window. She looked out frantically, and noticed that rescue crews were outside, ready to save her as she fell. She announced this loudly, then jumped.
A line formed, and I urged everyone to move quickly. About three minutes had elapsed from the last explosion, and while I was no expert, I expected the main fuel tank to explode at any moment. Many, make that most, of the people in the plane had died on impact, or moments afterward. As the last of the survivors jumped to safety, I looked around to see if anyone else remained who could be saved.
Just then, the fuel tank exploded.
I felt my entire body careen forward and hit the worthless cabin door.
I was on fire. Oh God, I was on fire.
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Point of View: Arnold
Time: Future
Location: The Oblivion
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I sighed, "I was supposed to surprise you that evening. Your New York friends had me fly in for a blind date with you." Helga looked back up at me, wide eyed. "You probably thought you had been stood up. You could have thought a lot of things... and I'm sorry. I wanted to make things better, not worse."
Guiltiness marred Helga's countenance, and a long silence followed. Blinking back tears, she sighed heavily, "Now, how to get out of here?"
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(AN: Confused in any way, shape, or form? Please tell me! I want to make this work, as it will most likely be my last Hey Arnold fic! I'm pretty proud of it, and I want others to like reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it!
God Bless Y'all!
Miss Matched
Oh! And if you believe that this chapter should up rating from PG to PG13, please do say so when you review!)