Author's notes: A title change was made to this chapter on 11-17-2003. It was originally titled "Beaned 2, part one," but later I thought up the more original title you now see in the drop-down menu. The same thing goes for chapter nine, which was originally "part two."

Disclaimer: Hey Arnold! is not owned by me. Chapters 7-9 are based off the episode "Beaned," written by Michelle Lamoreaux.

A hush passed over Gerald Field, a silence not heard there since the days when it was a mere vacant lot. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as Ludwig's pitch connected with its target, sending him into the mud face-first. The ball ricocheted off and rolled to a stop at Helga's feet.

The benches and bleachers cleared out, and all the players on the field and off ran toward home plate. Mud flew and water splashed about as the sea of kids fought their way through the remnants of the infield. Gerald slid in under the legs of the crowd and made his way to Arnold's side. "Arnold! Hey Arnold, you okay?" Others standing adjacent echoed Gerald's worries, but Arnold did not respond. He was out cold, with a huge lump forming just above his left eye where the baseball had connected.

Lila waited until the other kids in the bleachers cleared out before she slowly made her way down the first base line. There was no question that she was concerned about Arnold's well being. Still, part of her felt hesitant to approach the plate. It may have been she was afraid to see how badly he was hurt, or perhaps she was contemplating what the other kids would think of her rushing to his side like his damsel in distress.

She had to do something, even if it was just talking to someone else and sharing the concern. Lila walked over and spoke to the only other person on the field who didn't rush the plate when Arnold got hit. "Oh, this is ever so terrible! I'm so worried! Do you think he's okay, Helga?"

Lila's addressee was still sitting on the bench in the same spot she had when Arnold went to bat. Helga looked empty-headed, almost paralyzed. Sitting still as stone, her mouth hung open as she stared blankly across the field. It was the most unbelievable thing she had seen in her recent life, and had the potential to be the most traumatic. Her beloved was lying on the ground, breathing, but nothing more. Waves of guilt swept over her petrified body, as if her angry thoughts from a minute prior had materialized into reality.

Being a firm believer in the jinx-like quality of her thoughts, Helga decided to take responsibility for Arnold's condition, and to the effect set out to right the wrong. "One side, Lila," Helga spoke flatly as she rose to her feet and marched off to deliver justice.

Wolfgang and Ludwig stood a few feet away from the gathering around the felled Arnold. "Man, Ludwig, I didn't know you had such a devastating pitch in ya!"

"Yeah, I guess I really got him good," Ludwig spoke nervously as he took a step backward.

"Hey, where are you doing?"

"Uh, Wolfgang, I think maybe we should think about hightailing it outta here."

"Are you serious? Come on, he'll be fine! It's not like you killed him or anything."

"I know; it's just that I don't want to be around when he wakes up and tries to retaliate."

"Arnold retaliating? Are we talking about the same kid here? Ludwig, chill out! Even if he's mad about it, there's nothing him or any of these other brats will or can do about it!"

"Yeah, I guess you're ri—" A hand grabbed Ludwig's arm and spun him around. He instinctively swung his fist, but only found air. A quick glance downward revealed the arm-puller. "And just what do you think you're doing, Pink Bow?"

Helga glared at Ludwig, intimidated not in the very least. "I believe you've done something that I don't quite agree with."

"Oh, really? Are you mad that I beaned your little boyfriend over there?"

She smiled slightly at hearing Ludwig's reference but remained in focus. "No one lays a hand on the football head except me."

Wolfgang and Ludwig both oohed at that remark as Ludwig continued, "So you think you're going to do something about it?"

"I don't think it; I know it for a fact that you two are going to get what's coming to you."

The two sixth-graders looked at each other and broke into laughter. Helga remained motionless as they continued until they were almost crying. Wolfgang turned and walked away as Ludwig gave Helga some parting words, "Oh, man! That was really good! Thanks for the laugh, we'll see you later, One-brow."

He turned to follow Wolfgang, but Helga latched onto his arm again. Ludwig tried to pull away, only to get pulled in further by Helga. She tightened her grip, digging her fingernails into his arm as she drew him in until they were eye-to-eye. Ludwig continued to struggle, "Ow! Hey, what's your problem? Let go of my arm!"

"Cram it! Listen up, and mark my words because I haven't spoken anything more truthful than before now. You will regret what you have done today. I promise you, at some point in the future, I will return the favor; not only that, I'll return it ten-fold. And you'll know it when it happens. Any questions?"

"Yeah, I've got one. Why do you care so much about what I did to Arnold? You got a thing for him or something?"

"That's none of your beeswax. Now am-scray before I lose my composure." She released his arm, leaving behind four, dark red marks that looked bad enough to leave scars. Ludwig backed off slowly, looking at his forearm in mild horror. He then directed his gaze at Helga, ready to retaliate in some fashion until he saw a fire in her eyes like he'd never seen before.

"Look, uh, tell him I'm sorry when he wakes up and stuff, and no hard feelings, okay?" He promptly ran off in Wolfgang's direction without speaking another word.

Helga now redirected her attention to the home plate area. At this point it looked like Arnold was beginning to stir as Gerald had stood up and started backing people away, "Give him some air, folks! Give him some air!" Now faced with the prospect of dealing with Arnold, her focus waned and her mind began to race.

Thank God, it looks like he's okay. But what do I do now? Should I really go over there? I mean, what'll all the kids think of it? Especially Gerald, I can never put anything past him, give him credit for that. Then again, why does it matter what they think of it? I care more about his well being than all of those chumps put together! Okay then, enough thinking! I'm going straight over there and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure he's okay.

With that, she resumed her march, splashing water high in the air and she stomped through the flooded field.

"Arnold, come on, man! You've got to come around any minute now!" Gerald slapped Arnold's face around and shook him by the shoulders as Arnold very slowly regained consciousness through a series of low groans.

Phoebe came over and opined, "Gerald, I think you should let him rest for a minute. He'll wake up when he's ready."

Gerald looked at her. She looked confident in her judgment, which was good enough for him. He backed away and waited with the rest of the crowd.

"Get a load of the size of that bump! It's almost bigger than the baseball!"

"Golly, Sid, I think you're right. It looked to me like those two planned that calamity the whole time."

"Speaking of those two, anyone see where Wolfgang and Ludwig went?"

"I took care of them."

The low murmur that was present in the crowd fell to silence as Helga arrived, brandishing Old Betsy. As expected, Gerald began firing questions. "You took care of them? By yourself?"

"That's right."

"And may I ask why you risked physical harm in doing so?"

"Because I felt like it! And if anyone's going to bean the swollen football head over there, it should be me."

"Oh, so what you're saying is you did this out of some kind of 'bully pride?'"

You put the words right in my mouth. "Bingo, Bucko."

The argument was about to proceed when the subject suddenly sat up. Gerald and Helga both dropped the conversation and went over to Arnold's side.

"Finally! Arnold, how you feeling, buddy?"

Arnold glanced at Gerald, then at Helga and the rest of the crowd of kids. "What's going on? Who are all of you?"

Silence again fell over the crowd of kids. As if to confirm that they were all experiencing the same feeling of déjà vu, Rhonda broke the silence, "Oh…my…God."

Gerald stood up and began pacing. "You have got to be kidding me! Those two jerks gave him amnesia!"

Phoebe got up and followed Gerald around. "Don't panic, Gerald! We don't know how bad it is yet."

Everyone began turning to the nearest other person and sharing their disbelief. It was only five months prior that Arnold had hit a high fly ball and struck Helga squarely in the head with the same result, except that Arnold was now on the receiving end.

As Gerald, Phoebe and the rest of the kids got up and started making a commotion, Helga remained perfectly still, sitting on the ground by Arnold. He was distracted by the brouhaha and didn't notice her presence, which she was thankful for, on account of the fact that she was speechless. Oh, sweet and bitter irony, how you mock us! 'Twas only months ago that fate caused a wild foul ball to smack against my own skull and plunge me into a sea of forgetfulness, and now, the tables have been turned. My love, guilty only of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, is now in the same unfortunate position I had previously been in myself.

Hey, wait a minute. Her thought tone changed. If he's the one that doesn't remember anything, then that means someone has to take care of him! How fitting would it be for me to get the chance to take care of Arnold? It's almost too perfect! I must think of a way to get out of here with him in tow!

She was about to formulate her grand scheme when Arnold suddenly looked in her direction. Helga had been staring at him while she brainstormed, and only now had he returned the favor. The meeting of their eyes startled her, halting her thoughts with the effect of a freeway pileup. She searched for something to say that wouldn't offend him in his vulnerable state, and was about to settle on a simple "hello" when he spoke first.

"I like your bow."

"You…what?" Helga was taken completely aghast at that remark. First, she quickly recalled the fact that, even though she was dressed as Olga from neck-to-toe, she had left her pigtails and trademark pink bow intact. Only after this did his words register in her brain, which promptly set off the mental fireworks. He said he likes my bow, again! That's the same thing he said to me the first time we met! This is unbelievable! It's almost like we're starting all over again!

The wheels once again began to turn, as Helga shut her eyes and grinned in anticipation. All I have to do is grab the little shrimp, hightail it to the boarding house, and take it from there! His grandparents wouldn't mind if I stayed around to help fix him up, and the whole time I can be in his presence without worrying about how he'll react! This is too good! This is…

She felt something pulling at her head. She opened her eyes just in time to see Arnold pull her bow right out of her hair. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

"I wanted to get a better look at your bow, it's really nice." Arnold smiled as he took a closer look at the pink piece of fabric.

Helga was at a loss for words. Her instincts wanted to berate him for invading her personal space, but she overcame them and gave him special consideration based on the circumstances. "I'm…glad you like it…"

He looked up at her as she spoke. Seeing the confusion and shock on her face, he appeared to get an idea. He took off his blue hat and offered it to her, "You wanna trade?"

Helga took the hat in silent agreement. She looked at the object she had once desired to possess and placed it on her head; ironically, it stayed put in the same manner as it did on his, despite its size. The whole situation continued to puzzle and interest her at the same time. Arnold went back to examining the bow in his hand, similar to the way a young child would inspect something new and foreign.

Look at him, he's like a little kid with that bow. Oh well, why am I complaining? He gave me his hat. She took the hat off and inhaled the sweet aroma left behind from his hair. After doing so, she noticed Arnold had watching her smell his hat, which prompted him to mimic her and run her bow along his nose. He did not just do what I think he did…

"Helga? Helga, are you okay?"

"Huh?" Helga slowly came to, still feeling very dizzy. She rubbed her eyes and was greeted by the presence of Phoebe at her side, holding Helga's pink bow. "The bow!"

"Yes, I've got your bow right here. Arnold gave it to me when we came over here."

Helga had sat up straight at this point and looked around. Arnold was over in the bleachers talking with Gerald, who seemed to be very frustrated at the moment. She turned her attention back to her best friend. "Pheebs, what happened just now?"

"I don't know what happened, but I glanced over at you while Gerald and I were talking about what to do with Arnold and you appeared to faint."

"I fainted?" That'll make a great impression on him, Helga thought. She turned and looked in Arnold's direction again. "So wait, is Arnold still all screwed up?"

"I'm afraid so. Gerald came over here and walked him to the bleachers to talk to him. He didn't have a clue who we were when we approached him, but he seems to be himself otherwise."

Obviously you weren't watching him when he was running my bow under his nose like a perfume sample in a magazine. Helga continued to devote most of her attention toward the other side of the field as Phoebe explained every detail that had transpired in the five minutes Helga spent in unconsciousness. Man, Gerald looks like he's having a lot of trouble with him. She wasn't able to hear them clearly, but Gerald was clearly upset by the whole situation. Arnold, meanwhile, kept looking around with an inquisitive look on his face, as if he'd never been alive before he woke up after the beaning. At one point, Arnold pointed up at the sky, apparently at the remnant cloud cover, which caused Gerald to slap his forehead and yell something about clouds at Arnold.

"Helga?"

"Hmm?" she answered absent-mindedly.

"Are you ready to go home? I was going to tell Gerald we were leaving."

The question regained Helga's attention in Phoebe's favor. Helga noticed that pretty much all the other kids had left, except a few of the girls from their class, namely Rhonda, Sheena and…Lila? Why is she still here? She'll ruin everything! And never mind the fact that Rhonda and Sheena are there, too. I can't run the risk of him attaching himself to one of them instead of me!

"Helga? Are you coming with me?"

"But Phoebe, what about Arnold?"

"What about him? Gerald's taking care of him; you don't need to worry."

"No, that's not it." Helga gave Phoebe a certain look, which Phoebe recognized immediately.

"Oh, Helga, I don't know about that."

"Come on, Pheebs! I wouldn't ask you to help, except…well, you know how Gerald will be about it if I go over there!"

"Helga, I really think we should leave Arnold alone in this situation. Gerald can walk him home and make sure he's okay."

"I suppose…" Helga turned to start walking with Phoebe. The two of them reached the edge of the field, the point at which Helga stopped and looked back. Phoebe continued on for a few yards before realizing what happened, then returned to Helga's side.

She put her hand on Helga's shoulder as Helga stared across the field. As they stood there, Gerald talked to the other girls while Arnold played with his hat. After a few moments, Gerald and the girls waved to each other, and the girls all left, prompting a sigh of relief in Helga's thoughts.

"Helga, we really should be getting going. The streetlights are coming on."

Helga continued to stand in the same spot, sinking into the puddle in which she had stopped. At Phoebe's latest request, she turned and looked at her friend with a pleading look on her face. Phoebe frowned in return, shaking her head. Helga clasped her hands together, silently mouthing, "Please." Phoebe looked into Helga's eyes and saw true, sincere worry, the kind you'd put next to the word in the dictionary.

"All right, Helga. I'll try."

Helga hugged Phoebe in gratitude and followed behind her as they walked over to the bleachers.

"Okay, Arnold. I'm going to walk you home now."

"Home? What's that?"

Gerald slapped his forehead yet again. At this point it looked like he had a handprint tattooed across his face. "Home is where you live, man! Don't you remember anything?"

"I don't know, what am I supposed to remember?"

"How about anything at all? Okay, I've got one! There's no way you could have forgot this." Gerald held his hand up to Arnold's and made a fist.

Arnold looked at it, perplexed. "What's that supposed to be?"

"Arnold, you're kidding, right? You have to remember our secret handshake, buddy!"

"Well, you must be doing a good job at keeping it a secret, because I sure don't know it!"

Arnold laughed at his own joke as Gerald stood up and paced in frustration. He was ready to give up and take Arnold home when he saw the two girls approaching. "Hey, Phoebe!" He paused as he recognized the other girl in the dim twilight. "What's she doing here?"

"Gerald, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure thing." He walked with Phoebe a few yards away from the bleachers. They began talking at a low level as Helga nervously approached Arnold, who was now lying on his back, staring up at the only star in the sky in the early evening.

"What is that?"

"Huh?" His sensing her silent approach startled Helga. "What's what?"

"That white dot up there." He pointed off in the direction of what he saw.

"Oh, that's Venus…I think."

"Venus. That's a nice name." He sat up and looked at her. "I don't think you ever told me yours."

"Helga. Helga G. Pataki." She spoke it as proudly as she could but could tell she was blushing at the same time.

"Helga…that's a nice name, too."

I think Phoebe may have had the better idea. I don't know how much complementing I can take from him, even if it's not from the "real" Arnold. "Uh, thanks. I chose it myself."

He laughed. "Wow, sounds like you're pretty lucky. I wish I could pick my name. But they tell me it's Arnold."

"Yeah, that's what it's supposed to be." Helga looked at him, smiling back at her. I know I'm not really, technically talking to Arnold, but this is still too much!

The conversation was about to continue when Gerald's yelling interrupted. "Oh, no! No way, Phoebe!" He began walking toward Helga, now directing his comments to her. "Helga, I don't know what you're trying to pull here, but I'm onto you, and I'm certainly not letting you get anywhere near him to try and pull one of your little schemes when his defenses are lowered!"

Why you little… Helga jumped off the bleachers and met Gerald before he made it halfway back. "Just what are you insinuating?"

"I don't know; whatever it is you're planning, that's what I'm referring to!"

Helga wanted to break Gerald in half. "Listen, Gerald!" This caught his attention immediately, the lack of a deriding nickname. "I wasn't planning anything funny! Just like any other normal human being, I'm concerned about how Arnold's doing!"

"Yeah, sure, is that why you're always picking on him all the time, making his life a living hell?"

Phoebe stood by worried, as Arnold ignored the whole situation, watching a flock of seagulls flying overhead toward the purple sky in the west.

"Why do you always have to question my motives?"

"Why do you always have to butt into our business?"

Helga quickly searched for a reason to gain even a small amount of credibility with him. "Look, as hard as it may be for you to believe, I've got this little thing called honor."

"You're right; that is pretty hard to believe."

Helga glared at Gerald and moved in closer to finish her explanation. "And as a person of honor, I'm obligated to help Arnold out wherever he's done the same for me."

Gerald nodded. "So you want me to believe that because Arnold took care of you when you got hit with a baseball, you're going to do the same for him."

"That's right."

They glared at each other for a brief moment, looking like they might actually reach an agreement.

"Forget it, Pataki! You're not…"

"You know something, Tall Hair Boy? I oughtta…"

The two of them started yelling at and over one another. Phoebe looked over at Arnold with a worried look on her face. Somehow, he was still ignoring all the arguing, now trying to take off his sweater, but getting it stuck over his oversized head. She decided she'd better do something while she had a chance.

"All right, that's it! Let's go, Helga! You and me!"

"Oh, it'll be my pleasure, Geraldo!"

"That's enough! Both of you!" Gerald and Helga both backed away from Phoebe, who had stepped in to prevent things from getting ugly. "Why don't you two wake up and realize why you're fighting?" She pointed over at Arnold, who looked like he was being eaten alive by his sweater. "Now put your petty differences aside and get along, for Arnold's sake!"

Gerald and Helga looked at each other, and seemed to finally reach an understanding. Gerald spoke first, "Okay, Phoebe. You're right. Helga, sorry about that." Helga nodded in acknowledgement as Gerald turned to Arnold. "You ready, buddy?"

Helga glared at Phoebe as Gerald presumptuously approached Arnold. "Phoebe, do something!"

"Helga, I can't. Could you please just let Gerald take him home? I don't want this to get ugly."

"But Phoebe…"

"Helga, you're being selfish. I know you don't want me telling you this, but it's true. It's not your business to be taking care of Arnold. Gerald is his best friend, and he has every right to decide what happens to Arnold."

Helga sighed. She knew Phoebe was right. "Okay, I'll see you later then, Pheebs."

"I was going to walk with you if you'd like."

"No, that's okay." Helga put her hands in her skirt pockets and sulked away across the field.

Phoebe was about to go with her anyway to try and brighten her mood before Gerald called her over to the bleachers, "Hey, Phoebe? We've got a problem, here."

Helga sat down at the bus stop bench a block down the street from the field. She didn't feel like walking all the way home, and figured she'd probably be safer on the bus as the last streetlight finally began to glow over her head. She slouched down on the bench and glanced at her watch in the dim light. 7:30, the bus was due to arrive any minute.

She glanced up at the sky again. The streetlight managed to block out most of the stars, but Venus was shining brightly through. The sight of it now made it sick to her stomach. Phoebe was right. I've got no business butting in between Arnold and Gerald like that. I should probably just butt out altogether. As long as Gerald's around, I've got no chance to get close to Arnold even if I want to.

The bus was now approaching from about a block away. Helga got up and stood at the curb, hanging her head low as she did so. The bus pulled to a stop, the doors opened, and she was about to step aboard.

"Helga! Hold on a second!"