Author's Note: Just want to say that this is a very bleak chapter.

Legal junk: I don't own Hey Arnold, but Nickelodeon does and Mr. Craig Bartlett created it. But this fic belongs to me. Clear? Good.

Chapter 8: The Visit

"Where's Arnold?" Miles asked with an impatient tone. He and Stella were already in the car waiting for their son to show up.

"Honey, please be patient, he's probably in the bathroom getting ready." Stella replied with a calming voice to relax her husband. A moment later, the door to the back seat was opened. It was Arnold; he then jumped into the car and closed the door behind him. "I'm here."

"All right, is everyone ready? Because I'm not going to turn back once we're on the road." No word was spoken. "Good." Miles said in relief, and he proceeded to start the engine. The green sedan, which looked like a modern redesigned Packard that grandpa owned, pulled away onto the street and couple of blocks later, onto the main road. The road itself was quiet, with the exception of few cars zooming by and the street cleaning trucks doing their duties. Throughout the journey, none of them spoke to each other as they were each with their own thoughts. But nevertheless, all of them knew that they were concerned about Phil. Feeling that the mood inside the car was too stressed out, Arnold decided that he should do something to ease it up a little.

"Dad, don't worry too much about grandpa. He's gonna be fine. Even Dr. Steiglitz once said that grandpa is the healthiest man his age. Hopefully this is just some isolated incident."

"I know, I know. I'm just a little more concerned than I used to."

"Did your mom tell you anything why he got sick?" Stella asked him.

"No, she only told me that dad's sick and asked us to go to the hospital pronto. I got panicked, said that we're on our way and put the phone down. God, I should've asked her why." Miles shook his head in disbelief. The car sped onwards, only being stopped at the railroad crossing. As they waited for the train to cross, Arnold asked a question to his father, just to clear off his chest.

"Dad… did you know grandpa took part in D-Day?" both of his parents widened their eyes and turned their heads to Arnold.

"No…" Miles said disbelievingly. "Never once he told me that he took part in D-Day. You're not pulling my leg, are you?"

"I'm serious, in one of his letters he told grandma that he actually participated in Operation Overlord." He answered believingly. Are you sure he never once told you this before?" Arnold asked his father again.

"No… never…" he replied incredulously as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Why did he want to keep it a secret?" the train had finally crossed over the road and the gate risen up. Miles shifted the gear and continued their drive to the hospital. Upon arrival, Miles dropped Arnold and Stella at the front entrance and soon after that he drove to the parking lot. As Arnold and Stella entered the reception area, they saw the boarders, looking very stressful and melancholy.

"Oh, God… I'm so glad that you guys are finally here…" Suzie said with a relief as she hugged Stella. "Where's Miles?"

"He's finding a parking space. He'll come here soon." They then released each other's grasp.

"The hospital guys said that we can't come into the ward at this time of hour, unless you're a family member… stupid half-wits." Ernie explained irately.

"How did it happen?" Stella asked.

"We don't know. You see, Kokoshka here went down to the kitchen to have a midnight snack, but when he arrived there he saw gramps lying on the floor unconscious. It's lucky that we found him sooner, who knows what'll happen to him if nobody found out earlier."

"Yeah, I saved the old man, I'm a hero! Eh heh heh heh…" and everybody glared at him fumingly. "What? I just want to lighten the mood."

"Wait a minute… Suzie, who's minding the babies?" Stella asked her in a worrisome tone. "I brought them with me. I left them with Oskar… wait, Oskar, where are the girls?" she demanded.

"Uh… I was… I put them…" he stuttered nervously.

Angrily, Suzie stomped to him and grabbed him by his shirt collar violently, "WHERE. ARE. THE. GIRLS!?!!" she demanded an answer furiously through her clenching teeth.

"Uh… oh, hmm… OH, YEAH! I think left them at the seat near the vending machine." Said the negligent father as he tried to free himself from her clutches, "I'll – I'll be right back, d-don't worry about it." he said as he ran off to search for his daughters.

Suzie shook her head in disbelief and disappointment of her husband, "I swear to God, that man will be the death of me…" she said depressively as she rubbed her forehead.

After he felt that the whole fiasco was over, Arnold asked to them, "What does the doctor say?" in a worrisome voice.

"No… the doctor didn't say anything yet. They are diagnosing him right now." Mr. Hyunh interjected. Suddenly, Miles appeared from the front door. "I'm here," he said, panting, "Where's mom?"

"Grandma is with your pop – Third floor, room 203." Ernie informed him as he pointed to the elevators with his thumb, "We'll be right here, incase uh… if you need anything."

After saying thanks to Ernie; Miles, Stella and Arnold quickly made their way to the elevator so they could reach the third floor. The door opened, but the place was dimly lit as a part of the hospital's effort to conserve energy. As walked through the hallway, they turned their heads from side to side in searching for the said room. The room was at the end of the hallway, and upon entering, they saw grandma sat beside him, grasping grandpa's hand tightly as Dr. Murray Steiglitz attending him. Grandpa was lying in his bed unconscious with life support system monitoring him consistently.

"Stroke…" grandma said melancholically and brokenly to them as tears ran down from her eyes. The family stood aghast when they heard it. They then walked over to them with Miles hugging grandma to console her, whilst Stella and Arnold went to the side of the bed, looking at the vegetative grandpa, who was breathing weakly but in constant rhythm.

Calmly, Dr. Steiglitz pulled the stethoscope away from his ears and his hands away from examining Phil's chest. "His condition is stable," he said evenly. "I wouldn't worry about him much if I were you." He said assuredly to reaffirm that grandpa will be all right.

"Doctor…" Miles said after he swallowed poignantly, "please be honest…" he said in disbelief of him. With such heavyhearted and reluctance, he caved in into Miles' plea. "Phil is… weakening…" he finally said morosely, with his head lowered down. "I'm… I'm sorry."

Grandma was taken aback, but still unconvinced by his words and had faith about him getting well back. Grandma tried to compose herself and said to him, "I'm not saying that I don't believe you Murray… I still have hope… but could you let me stay by his side throughout the night? I mean… incase if he's awake, I-I… really need to be by his side…"

Dr. Steiglitz was moved, and agreed. Grandma gave him a weak smile as to thank him for being considerate. Slowly, Dr. Steiglitz walked out from the room, with Arnold accompanying him out. Outside the ward room, and after the door was closed, Arnold asked him to inquire about his grandfather.

"Dr. Steiglitz, I… I-I don't understand this… why? He was healthy and fit the day before… how come--"

Murray cut him off, "maybe it's just his time to go, Arnold. It's all a part of life's mystery." He said as he put his hand down on Arnold's shoulder. "Take the words of an old man such as myself…" he continued as he placed his other hand over his chest, to emphasize that the words came from his heart. Arnold was edging in tears as he looked down at his feet with his hands in his pockets, trying to compose himself. And after a while, Murray took his hand off slowly from him, and left him by himself as he walked away to the elevators with Arnold looked at him with gloom. Contemplated on his words, Arnold went back into the ward; and saw Miles tried to reason with his mother.

"Mom… I know you want to be by his side, but I think you should need some rest… please." He pleaded concernedly. "I'll be staying with him tonight."

"Oh, Miles…" she sobbed as she hugged his son tightly. Stella started to brim in tears and Arnold was moved at the affectionate display, and again he was nearly in tears. Gerthie then released him but still holding his shoulder, "You take care of your father, all right?" she implored to him with a broken voice. "And call me if he wakes up. I'll come back tomorrow, okay dear?" she informed as she rubbed her son's cheek.

"Come on, Gerthie. I'll drive you back to the boarding house." Her daughter-in-law cordially invited, as she wiped her tears away.

---

Later that evening…

"Thank God it's Friday." Stella said in relief to his son. They were both in Stella's car on their way to the hospital. Her car was a small, blue car imported from South Korea. The sun was on the very tip of the horizon, casting a dim orange sunlight onto the surface. It was beginning to rain too as small droplets of rain began to form on the windshield. The thundering clouds battled over the city against the glimmering sun, nearly cutting the light source, in what looked like a contra of Ying and Yang. To avoid the dreadful rush hour traffic, Stella had to drive through the old, narrow neighborhood street, which to the local people, was more convenient to take if there was a traffic jam or to cut through the city in less than approximate time expected.

"Dad actually took a day off to take care of grandpa?" Arnold asked her inquiringly.

Stella nodded at his question, "Yep, just so you know he is very concerned about him." she said as she concentrating on the road.

"Yeah…" he replied sheepishly. "Aren't we supposed to pick up grandma?"

"Your dad already took care of it. He's now at the hospital with her. By the way, about last morning – what was that all about?"

"Huh? About what?"

"You know, you said grandpa was in the Normandy Invasion. I was really shocked when I heard it because he never told anyone about it before. Why did you bring it up all of the sudden?"

"I don't know… it was really quiet in the car so I thought I should say something to ease the mood a little bit. 'Sides, it's nothing to be ashamed about. Grandpa fought bravely, and survived to tell the tale, and I'm proud of him."

"Well, you certainly weren't doing a great job easing us." She chuckled. "I want to know myself why grandpa keeps it a secret until now."

Arnold fell silent, smiling weakly as he gazed at the scenery outside the car as they drive by it. He probably had already known why.

"And why are you bringing those letters that grandpa gave to you?" she asked referring to a yellow binder that Arnold brought with him.

"You're telling me, I don't know myself!" he exclaimed. "Somehow, I just have a feeling that I should – no, must bring them to the hospital today."

"Well, suit yourself. Just don't ask me to carry it when you get tired of hauling it." She told him good-naturedly.

"I won't." he replied back. A momentary pause, "You think grandpa will be alright, mom?" he asked with a worrisome tone.

She contemplated for a moment to gain an answer, "I hope so. You said it yourself, grandpa is the strongest man his age. I'm sure he'll bounce back on his feet again eventually."

"You're right." He agreed doubtfully. "And I hope that the doctor is wrong and I'm right about grandpa…"

---

Arnold knocked the door to the ward room. A moment later, the door opened up, showing a tired Miles casting a weak smile of relief at them. He let them enter the room, which the son and the mother being upset and not surprised at grandpa's condition, which still was the same like last morning – in a comatose state. And like last morning, grandma sat next to her beloved husband, looking at him with concern as her frail hands clutching grandpa's hand tightly, in hoping for a miracle.

"Grandma?" Stella said as she walked over to her, "I brought some fruits with me. You can have them if you want." She said with a weak, beaming smile as she put the plastic bag carrying the fruits on the table nearby.

"You've been a dear," grandma finally responded.

Arnold on the other hand, stood next to his father who was sitting at a nearby chair. "Does grandpa show any signs of getting better?" he inquired.

With a sigh, Miles replied, "Unfortunately, no… Dr. Steiglitz said his condition still hasn't improving." He shook his head.

The whole room went silent again, with the exception of the heart monitor bleeps and sound of the raindrops thumping on the window, gradually becoming louder and louder. But wait… the bleep became fast, but still weak. Everybody turned their heads at grandpa. Miles got up and with Arnold joined the rest of the family at the bed. Grandpa's eyes opened up slowly, which drew delight and ray of hope from everyone. But, there was no room to celebrate right now, grandpa was still weak.

"Dad… dad?" Miles called him. "You're feeling right? You want some water? Want me to call the doctor for you?" he bombarded the questions. But then Miles gazed at grandpa's eyes and reading it, and felt grandpa didn't want any of those. Grandpa then saw Arnold, and smiled weakly at him. Arnold shot back a soft smile.

He tried to open his mouth, but could manage to say some coherent words to him, "You were right… short-man. There are no such… thing as… a family curse…" He said with a weak voice, alternating between light coughs. Then it hit him first, and then the rest of the family. They knew what grandpa meant by that. Arnold held back his tears, composed himself and said to him, "grandpa… please don't say that. You're going to be fine." He said assuredly, being the optimistic person he always is, although he already knew it was a false hope.

Grandpa snickered softly at him, reading his grandson like an open book. "Letters… bring them?"

Arnold nodded, "Read… the last one…" grandpa asked weakly. Quickly, Arnold dashed to his binder located near the chair Miles sat earlier. Grandma meanwhile, stroked his cheeks in gentle tenderness of love. Grandpa could only smile back because he was too weak to move. He then shifted his eyes to Miles and Stella, looking at them with a warm, calm smile. They were hesitent to return the smile back as they held back their tears, but they eventually did. Arnold came back, and read the last letter as to fulfill grandpa's last wish.

"Thank God I followed my instincts…" he thought as he unfolded the last letter, and started to read it in a broken, sobbing voice.

March 20th 1945,

Dearest Gertrude,

I'm back at the hospital again, after delivering those bad Chams. It wasn't an accident that caused all this, but rather, an unforeseen event that literally changed my life forever. I was captured by the enemy and being held as their prisoner of war. It was a hellish five days with them, until I got rescued by the boys from the Airborne Infantry. Thinking back, I am lucky to be alive. It was the bitterest experience for me and I hope that my child won't have to hear this story or any of my war stories from anyone else until the day I die.

Miles and Stella finally know why.

But I learned something precious from the whole ordeal, that in the limited time we are given to live in this world, we need to appreciate each and every second of life. Which, I have decided to spend mine with you, my dearest. We have known each other very much, everything from our childhood to our present. And from the past three years, we've seemed to be connected more than just friends. You are the light that shines my day, the beautiful person who gives me joy, and your tender love that gives me a reason to live.

Arnold noticed that grandma's maiden name was blurry.

Gertrude --------, will you marry me?

Grandma let a tear rolled down her wrinkly cheeks from her eye when Arnold read that. Grandpa smiled at her reaction as he felt that grandma tighten her grip to his hand.

Please give me an answer after I arrived home, which am going to depart back to the States this coming Saturday. And trust me - your house will be the first one that I will knock first. Heh, I don't know which will arrive first - me, or this letter.

Love,

Phil.

Arnold wiped a tear out from his eye, folded the letter and put it in his breast pocket.

"I… love all of…" but grandpa stopped there, wheezing out a very weak, lengthy breath. A momentary pause from all of them.

"Grandpa…?"

"Phil…?"

...