Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.
Summary: Helga, never imagined that one rash decision at a party, would turn her life completely on its head six years later, and leave her in a twisted web of secrets, lies and deceit. The skeletons are coming out. For Hillwood, it's the crime of the century. A love/crime/triangle drama! R&R!
A/N: Pre-warning. This is a LONG chapter. I did not intend it to be that way, but I couldn't really find a good spot to break it. However, it moves the plot nicely, since we've got a few more twists ahead, and Helga finally answers some questions about her life moving forward, particularly about the baby, which hasn't been a big focal point of the story. Anyway, enjoy.
Dead man walking tonight.
"I know, Sid. I appreciate it. Have a good night." Helga said before pulling the phone away from her ear and setting it down on the desk in order to rest her head in her hand. It was dark, and it was quiet in the office she was sitting in within her house.
Arnold's office.
She'd never had much use for them. Choosing to work wherever she damn well pleased. There was no reason for her to be in there, other than it felt fitting in some dark way. She sniffed, and sat back in the large brown leather chair, staring at the other items that were decorating the room through the massive shadows cast by the light from the hallway.
She found herself wondering. Wondering how much debauchery had been planned out in there. Had that been what he would do when he'd hole himself up behind that door, claiming he had things to study for. Had that studying consisted of a girl that he was planning to go after next?
Had he brought them there? Had Monica been there too? Had he had her in their bed? Her stomach turned but she was quick to dismiss it. That girl was just as much of a victim as the rest, and any judgment of her deeds in any capacity was utterly uncalled for. It put things into perspective for her though.
How lucky she was.
Those girls got cut down by him like youthful weeds, but she got away. They ended up in the ground but she got to walk away with nothing but a tattered sense of trust and an unique story.
God, did that send a chill down her spin. How had she gotten to walk away? What made her so special?
It made her sick, but more importantly, she found herself becoming downright angry at him. A hateful angry of a caliber she'd never felt towards anyone before. With a huff, she reached out and flipped on the lamp, eyes adjusting from the dark while she stared at the contents neatly stacked atop the desk. She began flipping through it, most of it being junk mail and a random insurance renewal packet.
Sighing, she then reached down and began yanking open the drawers and rifling through them with vigor, not really sure what she was hunting, just…for something.
Something that would…make her hate him more. That's what she wanted. More fuel. Which made the worst sense to her. She wanted a piece of paper that said: I'm Arnold Shortman and I lived a double life. In his hand writing, of course. It was so stupid. Besides, her house had already been sifted through by police and as far as she knew, nothing of value had come out of it.
Because there wasn't anything. She knew he was smarter than that. There had been a reason he'd carried on for so long while she and the rest of the world had been none-the-wiser. Still, she hated it, slamming the drawer shut before reaching across the desk to grab his globe paper weight and spitefully chunk it across the room.
The bang it made against the wall, and the minor dent it left in the old wood paneling was oddly satisfying to her. She then reached over and grabbed her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she came across John Tenants business line and dialed out, bringing it to her ear to listen to the rings. She knew nobody would pick up. It was after hours, but she needed to do it now just for herself.
When it clicked over to the voicemail, she reclined back in chair, "Hey John, this is Helga Pataki. Listen, in light of recent events, I'm no longer going to require your services for Arnold. If he wishes to retain your legal counsel he'll have to do so on his own. Give me a call tomorrow if need be. Thanks."
Four days later.
Helga turned off of the main road onto the side road that doubled as her long driveway, stopping to grab any mail she might have had out of her mailbox before continuing on. As she rounded the small wooded bend, she caught sight of a familiar green SUV parked in her driveway, eyebrows creeping up as she pondered why on earth he would be sitting at her house, seemingly waiting on her arrival.
She vaguely remembered having a missed call from him a few days back, and...had completely forgotten to call him back. That was weird in of itself because he'd never once called her for anything. And now he was sitting at her house.
She pulled up beside him, parking, hitting the garage door button and getting out as he removed himself from his own vehicle. Walking towards the garage, she stopped in front of the front of her SUV before looking back at him as he walked over. "Hey Gerald," She greeted her best friend's husband. "What's up?"
He was usually a friendly guy, and they had had no real issue with one another since they were children. One could even say that they got on better than amicably, however, Helga wasn't blind to the fact that he looked downright irritated with her. And she were clueless as to how that was even a possibility. Surely not over a forgotten missed call.
"Have you been super busy or something?" He asked while he crossed his arms and practically glared at her.
"I mean, yeah. I could use a few more hours in the day," She defensively replied, "Is there a problem with that?" She then crossed her arms.
"You've been ignoring his phone calls."
At that, Helga's mouth parted. Of course. Of fucking course! Gerald was still the ever obedient believer. "So now he's sending you out here to ambush me?" She retorted, throwing him her own well practiced glare. "Fucking insane…" She rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk into her garage bay, completely done with anymore conversation he could possibly want to hold.
"Well, seeing as you can't seem to pick up your Goddamn phone, I had no choice," When that got no reply, only her continued walking away, he frowned deeply, "That's messed up, Helga. You can't just abandon him like this!"
She stopped, inhaling before turning back around to resume her dagger like glare at him, "Abandoned him?" She incredulously repeated, subconsciously finding herself taking a few steps in his direction, as much as she were ready to get away from him, "How about he abandoned all of normal fucking society when he started killing people!" She exacerbated, feeling the heat starting to rise up her neck.
Her blood pressure was probably of the charts those days.
Gerald exhaled and closed his eyes for a brief moment, raising his hand up and balling it into a fist in the thinking kind of way. Helga assumed he was thinking about anything but the logical, and she was ready for him to just say whatever crap he felt like he needed to and leave. His eyes finally fluttered open and he fixed her with a tilted stare, "He didn't do any of this, Helga. You of all people should know him better than tha—"
"—I obviously didn't!" She cut him off, "And neither did you."
"Not true. That's not true."
She sputtered with a laugh that had not a trace of humor in it. Fully brought on by stress and sheer aggravation with the entire situation that had been sprung on her, "So you think I just...woke up one morning and started going about my life like he never existed?" She rhetorically asked him, "You think any of this is easy for me to do? It's not." She swallowed hard, feeling her throat tighten and her eyes turn glassy,"Denial is easy, Gerald. Acceptance is much harder. I loved that man more than any other human being on this planet. But he was a lie. You love a lie. I'm still in love with a lie and I...hurt nonstop because of it. I want to believe him just so the pain will go away, but I can't. There's nothing to believe in," Reaching up, she delicately wiped the bottoms of her eyes with her thumb.
Gerald sighed, "Helga I..."
"Just leave. And don't you ever show up at my house for some crap like this again."
"I thought for sure, there would have been something in the woods where that cabin is," Sid commented as he flipped through the boat loads of photos that had been taken on the most recent scour.
Jeremy looked up from some paperwork that he was filling out, peering at his partner across their desks, "It's mind boggling isn't it?"
"If he was keeping these girls someplace for...extended periods of time. It had to be somewhere that was secluded. The area where this cabin is makes the most sense, but nothing," He went on, becoming more and more disappointed by his conclusion.
"The thing is," Jeremy began, propping both of his elbows up on the desk, twirling his pen around in his hand, "There are so many old cellars out in the woods from houses that are no more, he could have been using one of those almost anywhere around here or in neighboring counties. The odds just aren't in our favor."
He was correct. Sid recalled all the old staircases, chimneys and root cellars they he'd stumbled across out in the wilderness as a kid on various fishing trips. A lot of it was creepy as fuck, and now even more so. Nothing would raise the hairs on ones neck like stumbling across a random dilapidated one room house in the middle of the woods. Jeremy himself had been fascinated by the phenomenon when he'd first moved there, having come from Florida.
"He's got to tell us. If not, it's like trying to find a needle in a hay stack."
Jeremy snorted, "Good luck with that. That dude is willing to take a needle versus admit to this."
"I'm to the point where I'm ready to just...beat it out of him and accept being fired for abusing a prisoner," Sid chuckled, scooting all of the photos back into the folder they came from. "And that's unlike me."
"I get it man. A girls still missing. She could have been saved, and he's playing stupid," Jeremy flatly noted, before leaning back in his chair, "It's why I've gotten back into going to the shooting range in the evenings. Helps me blow off steam."
Sid nodded, "Yeah, I probably should start going back too."
One Week Later.
Helga was walking off of a job site—that troublesome gym—and about to climb back into her SUV when her phone began buzzing away in her back pocket. She threw everything into her passenger seat before reaching around a grabbing the device, only to see that it was one of her parents. She subtly rolled her eyes as she shut the door and turned the ignition over, "Hey," She answered.
"Hey," She heard her mother say, "I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time."
"You're fine. What's up?"
"Well, Olga and Hampton are stopping by tomorrow..."
"Stopping by?" Helga frowned, "They live in Houston."
"They were in Vancouver. Hamp's dad had a heart attack and an emergency surgery. Anyway, they decided to stop before going back home, and I think it would be nice to have a family dinner since it's been awhile."
Helga sighed, but she made sure she titled the phone away enough that Miriam couldn't hear it, "What time?"
"Six, but come as early as you want. I'm sure your sister would like to spend some time with you."
"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then."
Friday.
If her mother thought she was going to arrive several hours early to spend extra time with her sister, she was nuts. She showed up thirty minutes before the time she had been given and even that couldn't spare her the bear hug that Olga wrapped her in the very minute she walked through her parent's front door. "Oh, it's so good to see you," He sister gushed before pulling away, yet still firmly grasping Helga's arms and intently looking at her with that parental type of concern, "How have you been holding up?"
Helga never had much to chit-chat with her sister about. They were amicable, but if she were honest, they'd probably never see each other if it weren't for their parents. It sounded harsh, but it really wasn't. The age gap, the different personalities, the geographical distance, none of it had lent it self to a warm, sisterly relationship between the two. Olga had at least grew to accept that once her younger sibling had hit high school and had wanted not much to do with any family, much less her. But it didn't stop her from still trying.
"As well as to be expected, I guess," She replied, wishing Olga would let her go. She was beginning to feel like that was all she ever told people. Probably because that was all they ever asked.
"I've been thinking about you non-stop."
Helga tightly smiled, "Uh, thanks."
Olga gave her arms another gentle squeeze before they both walked into the kitchen where everybody else had naturally gravitated to in hunger. "Hey Helga," Hamp smiled.
"Hey," She smiled back, "How's your dad?"
"He's lucky. They were able to do a bypass," Olga's husband explained, "So...he and my mom are going to have to clean up their eating habits now. How are you doing?"
"Hanging in there," Helga replied as she leaned back against the counter, silently hoping that it would just get dropped there. And luckily it did. Her brother-in-law wisely chose to just nod. "Where the kids?" She suddenly realized she didn't hear or see her niece or nephew running amuck.
"They stayed with a friend of ours."
Helga nodded, "Smart," She admitted, unable to fathom having to drag a five and eight year old, twenty-five hundred miles on a plane for an emergency family situation. It was at that point that she willingly slinked into the background, watching her dad remove the prime rib he'd had going, out of the oven. The good stuff always got brought out when Olga was home. Her parent were much better about it than they used to be, but in a lot of regards, nothing had changed. She at least understood it more as she got older. Their oldest child wasn't around as much, and hadn't been since the age of twenty. They were chronically excited to see her, because she had been chronically absent.
As much as she loved to travel, she'd never had any desire to move some place random for any extended period of time. Sure, she'd wanted out of her parents house as soon as she'd graduated, but she hadn't felt the need to leave Hillwood to get away. But perhaps Olga's feverish wanderlust had been her passive-aggressive way of getting away from the tense Pataki household. After all, Miriam hadn't officially quit drinking until Helga's freshmen year in college and Bob's work-a-holic self hadn't retired until two years after.
Them becoming retired old people was the best thing to ever happen, as far as Helga was concerned. She actually felt like she had normal parents for once.
Miriam moved all the sides onto the family dining room and Bob provided his prized meat, neatly cut into thickish slabs for everybody to help themselves to. Once the glassware had been set the Pataki clan took their seats, elder parents at each end while daughters and spouse filled in the middle chairs. Plates were filled, eating pursued and so did the chattering. Needless to say, Helga was completely fine with letting her sister and brother-in-law be the carriers of conversation between her parents while she silently ate. As of lately, any chance she had at not being the elephant in the room was a blessing.
Her mind wandered off to the hole still in her patio and how she really needed to call the company that had poured the concrete and schedule a time for them to come fill that thing in and redo it. She couldn't have a crater back there any longer. It was an absolute eye sore, amongst other things. God and the floors up stairs too. Still bare. And there she was, inching closer and closer to her due date and hadn't done a single thing with the room that was designated the nursery.
It had to be done. And she figured the coming weekend was as good of time as ever to start.
"So, Hampton and I have been thinking," Olga began smiling, "You guys should fly out to Houston and spend Christmas with us this year."
Miriam perked up and glanced across the table at her husband, silently chewing a mouthful of prime rib, "That actually sounds wonderful, don't you think B?"
"I guess," Bob kind of grumbled. He hated distance traveling. In any capacity, much less during the holidays. Helga imagined he saw nothing but a giant headache. And, as much as she loved traveling, she would have to agree with what her dad was a hundred percent thinking.
Unfortunately, he couldn't dampen his older daughter's enthusiasm over the prospect though, as much as he would have liked to spare himself the high blood pressure, "It's been awhile since everybody was together for the holidays. We just think it would be nice," Olga continued to try to sell the idea.
"I guess it would be, I suppose," Their dad grumbled again, but finally relenting as he glanced back up at his wife, who appeared eager to fully accept the offer, "If you want to do that this year, we can."
Miriam happily nodded, "Yeah. I think we should," She enthused, already feeling energized by the idea of getting away for awhile, considering the type of year they'd had.
"What do you think Helga?" And of course, Olga's unwanted attention then turned on her, "Our house for Christmas?"
The youngest blonde finished chewing before looking up at her sister's cheerfully awaiting face, "Uh…I mean…maybe," She shrugged while looking back at her plate to cut another piece of steak, however knowing that a vague response like that wouldn't be good enough for Olga, "I'll just have to see if I'm in the mood to travel with newborn. But, I'll be honest...I'm probably not going to feel like it."
There was no way in hell she was going to be spending her Christmas trapped at her sister's house in Houston. Child or not. End of story and she hoped she squashed any begging that could possibly ensue right then or later down the road.
Across the table, her sister's mouth down turned into a curious frown as she looked to her plate to skewer herself a single piece of broccoli, "Hmm. So I guess you're actually keeping her then," She said in a much more quiet voice, trying to make it sound as if it were an afterthought, but forgetting that her younger sister knew her better than that.
It sent Helga's eyes fluttering up, as expected, watching her sister take that bite of vegetable, truly curious as to just what she had meant by that, yet, knowing that she should just…let it go. They were having a nice dinner. There was no sense in adding any tension. But…she wouldn't. Just couldn't. Why? Because Olga clearly wanted her to inquire. She very much knew that, "Why wouldn't I?" She finally took the bait.
Olga didn't bothering looking at her right away, choosing to keep her eyes on her plate as she forked up a second bite of vegetables, all casual like, "I figured…everything considering, that you just probably wouldn't be after she's born."
At that, Helga calmly abandoned her knife and fork in favor of sitting back in her chair a little bit in order to ponder where in the fuck Olga had gotten the audacity from, thinning her eyes considerably at her as she finally asked, "Wouldn't or shouldn't?"
"Well, if we're being completely honest. Shouldn't."
"Because…?"
The eldest blonde sister finally looked up as if she were surprised that she had to say what she considered to be the obvious reason. "Because of him."
"So…because he's a garbage human-being I'm expected to…toss her by association?" Helga very tensely clarified, coming to realize exactly what her sister was implying. "It's not like she's a monster too or something."
"I know that, and it's nothing personal. I simply…assumed you'd be completely washing your hands of him. Which I think would be the best option. That's all."
Helga huffed a sneering exhale that rolled into a short sarcastic little laugh, "Wow. Alright, let me ask you something. If we find out tomorrow that Hamp is a fucking serial killer—"
"—language," Miriam scolded as Helga casually motioned at her yuppy brother-in-law.
"—I can rest assured that you will be dropping Bradley and Kaitlin off at the nearest orphanage? You know…to wipe your hands clean of him. Which obviously you should."
Olga huffed, becoming agitated enough to roll her eyes at her sister's ridiculous suggestion, "That's different, Helga, and I didn't—"
"—How is it different Olga?" Helga asked, completely reclining back in her chair and crossing her arms. "How is anything I just said, different?"
"It's ridiculous, for one."
"You think it's different because you don't think it could ever happen to yourself. So, no need to even consider it."
Olga plated her utensil as she locked eyes with her sister, "No I just don't think that you are aware that you're still in a position to be able to walk away, scot-free from this. You've always had a desire to deal with your problems on your own because you're entirely too headstrong, but you don't have to be this time. Nobody is going to fault you for it either. You're young, you can start fresh, you can…have a normal life again."
Helga darkly chuckled.
Normal.
That was hilarious.
The idea of dating anybody else in any foreseeable future made her brain absolutely throb. Over the course of twelve years, she'd struck out twice. Quite frankly she were afraid of any potential of a third strike. So afraid that she might just stay single forever. As if she could ever trust anybody again anyway. But that was beside the point. Because even with that newly forged thought in mind, she couldn't stifle the swell of anger rising up through her chest. That was why she preferred her sister in very small doses. "Where is all this even coming from? I don't even talk to you. You have no idea about anything with me."
"But we do," Their mom finally chimed in, clearly referring to herself and Bob with eyes fixed on her youngest, "And as reclusive as you've been lately. We have no idea where your plans even are. You don't ever talk to us anymore." It was true, her communication with her parents had waned considerably. Partly because she was busy, partly because she just wanted to be alone, but also because Arnold, surprisingly, had facilitated a lot of her coming to really enjoy their company. And they themselves had liked him a whole lot as well.
Go figure.
Helga wanted to be mad at her mom. She really did. But Miriam's concern was a genuine concern and actual desire to know and not some desperate need to give unwanted life advice. Which led her attention back to her wonderfully overbearing sister, whom she was certain, more than ever at that point, was still trying to shoehorn her opinion in behind some thinly veiled concern. "So basically you just know what mom tells you, as usual," She called her out before clearing her throat once, "Well, since everybody apparently wants to know and-or, give their unsolicited advice. Yes. I'm still planning to keep her."
Miriam visibly seemed like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, which told Helga that Olga was flying solo at that dinner table. "I just don't think you're looking at your future here."
"Oh just say it Olga," She glared at her sister. "It's because no matter what, a serial killer is always going to be the father of my child, and there can be nothing normal about that."
Olga sighed, "Helga…"
"Trust me, I get how that is a black cloud, but Arnold being what he is hasn't changed how I feel about her."
"And I understand that, but—"
"—Clearly you don't," Helga irritably snapped back, "Or you wouldn't be running your damn mouth."
"Girls!" Bob finally barked, looking back and fourth between the two of them, wondering why the hell he was having to referee his two grown daughters like they were a pair of children. Everybody sat in silence for a split second before he finally went on with, "Enough already."
Helga looked at her dad before turning her eyes back to her sister while throwing her napkin onto the table, "Yeah I think I'm done here," She stood from her chair and picked up her plate, "Prime rib was good, dad," She told him before walking to the kitchen, dumping her plate and utensils into the dishwasher, and heading outside into the late summer twilight without so much as a goodbye to anyone.
Rude, yes, but that sister of hers had managed to rub her raw by sticking her nose into business that, if there were measurement, would be the furthest possible notch from her own.
She'd barely made it down the steps and into her curb parked car before hearing the door open behind her, slightly rolling her eyes at the idea that someone was trying to come smooth things over. "Helga, wait..." She heard her sister request.
Sighing, she irritably spun around, "What, Olga?"
Her sister slowly inched down the porch steps and onto the sidewalk, hand wringing, before she finally dropped them to her side, "I'm sorry for what I said back there. It was terribly insensitive of me," She apologized, "And...you're right. It's not my place to tell you what to do." Helga silently eyeballed her, waiting for the catch or the 'but' followed by her trying to tell her again what to do. Surprisingly that didn't happen though. "I...tend to forget that you aren't my kid sister anymore. You're my adult sister. For some reason though," Olga shook her head, but offered the briefest but sincere smirk, "You're still about sixteen in my mind."
"If only..." Helga muttered, popping her eyebrows once as she glanced off momentarily, "Look, I have no idea what I'm doing, Olga," She admitted before cutting her eyes back to her, and shrugging, "I really don't. I'm winging it as best I can. It's not everyday you find out that the guy you're engaged to is a serial killer."
"No. It's not."
"That being said, she's the one thing that I'm looking forward to this Christmas. I got something good out of...out of a very evil man. And, quite frankly, I'm still having to wrap my head around calling him that." She reached up and scratched the corner of her eyebrow, before choosing to fold her arms across her front, "But, I know I'm not making a mistake keeping her, and I know that this is what's best for me going forward."
Olga nodded, "Okay," She conceded, slowly offering up a warm smile, "You know what you need," She then glanced back towards their parents townhouse, "I'm sure everybody is finished eating by now."
"Probably."
"Would you like to stay for dessert?" Her sister's hopeful eyes shifted back to her own, "It's key lime pie."
Helga inhaled, thinking about how much she did like a good key lime pie, before looking back at her car and re-locking it with the key fob, "I guess a slice wouldn't hurt."
Three days later.
Sid fired of his three remaining rounds, aimed at the target out stationed in the range area, before calling it quits for the evening. Jeremy had been right. He'd forgotten how great squeezing off a few rounds was at clearing his head, and actually allowing him to think. And he'd come up with a fairly decent idea while he had been killing targets. He shelled out his clip, and reloaded before holstering his handgun back into his side carrier. Jeremy had yet to wrap up, so he stood there until his friend had emptied out the rest of his clip before deeming it safe to remove his protective eye and ear wear. "I have an idea," Sid shouted at him.
Jeremy turned and gave him a funny look, "What?"
Sid rolled his grey eyes and pointed to his ears. Jeremy sat his gun down on the counter and slide his ear muff down around his neck, "I have an idea."
"About what?"
"What if we use Helga to try and get out of him where Monica is."
Jeremy thinned his eyes in a very skeptical way, turning back to his firearm to pop the clip and shell it out, "This is a game to him man, she's not going to be able to get anything. That's assuming she'd even want to do it," He replied, shoving his newly loaded clip back in before tucking the firearm in his under arm holster.
"Unless you've got a better idea."
He sighed, propping his hands on his hips before running a hand over his hair, "No. I don't." He reluctantly admitted.
"I'm just willing to try anything at this point."
"I know."
"Do you think it's strange that I'm not putting her up for adoption?" Helga asked, seemingly out of the blue as her and Phoebe munched on their dinner at a local Italian place. A girls night. It was something that had been worming around in the back of her mind since she'd had her little pow wow with Olga. She didn't care, she was just legitimately curious.
One of Phoebe's dark eyebrows lifted over top her equally dark rimmed glasses. "Where's that coming from?" She inquired, twirling her pasta up on her fork.
Her blonde friend shrugged, "Just wondering is all."
"I haven't ever thought about it, I suppose," Phoebe replied truthfully, but she knew Helga better than to think that this was anything out of the blue, "Whose asking?"
"Eh...my sister and I...sort of got into it a few days ago, and...I don't know, she acted like it was the weirdest thing that I was keeping her," She sighed, propping her elbow up on the table, "I mean, I don't really care at the end of the day. I love her more than I hate him, so I'm going to do what makes me happy. But...does everybody think it's strange?"
"I don't think either choice is strange at all," Phoebe shrugged, "Either way, she has a good life."
Helga nodded, twirling up some more pasta, "Yeah. I don't know that I'd ever be able to stand not knowing what she was doing through life though."
"Then screw whatever everybody else thinks." Helga gave her friend a fairly surprised look, not sure that she'd ever even heard her say the word 'screw' as a soft curse word. Phoebe only smirked, "What? I'm right aren't I?"
"Yep."
Two days later.
She had been very surprised and a little more than uneasy about the voicemail that Sid had left her, asking if she'd be willing to help him out with something. Of course he hadn't spared any details about what that something was, and she was sure that it wasn't unintentional. However, she'd agreed to meet him at a coffee shop she'd be working near to hear out whatever he had to...propose.
He was already waiting at a table when she arrived, waving her over to the corner of the place. Luckily it wasn't busy so there was at least some privacy to the meeting. "Hey Helga," He greeted her as she walked up, motioning for her to sit in the chair across from him.
"Hey," She replied, "What's up?"
"Uh, not much. So...I'm hoping you'll help me...us," He rephrased, "Out with something..." He trailed off, waiting for her to ask. When she never did he went on, "We want to know if you could meet with Arnold, and try to get him to tell you where Monica is."
"No," She flatly asserted. "I'm not speaking to that man ever again."
Sid blinked with a sigh, "He refuses to talk to us, which is his right but...look," He reached up and began rubbing the back of his neck, "I know that this is a delicate situation for you, and I wouldn't be here asking if I didn't think that it could maybe work. Her parents call me every couple of days, wanting to know if we've found anything. They've accepted that their daughter probably isn't coming home alive, but at this point...she may not ever come home at all. You wouldn't have to wear anything, all we would do is tap the phone at the detention center."
Helga looked off as she nodded a bit. She understood it, she did. She just wasn't sure she had the emotional stamina to confront him, hold it together and hope that he was feeling generous with her request, "I'll think about it," Was the only thing she could agree to at that moment, "And I'll give you a call tomorrow, okay?"
Sid nodded, and his eyes remained hopeful, "Thank you."
That Night.
Helga opened her eyes and suddenly she was back in the doorway of a house she'd only ever been in once. But one she would remember for the rest of her life. She walked through the foyer like hallway, hearing the incessant chatter from the swell of people all around. It felt like a replay. A compete replay. And she was half expecting Phoebe to be sitting on the counter in the kitchen again. Her gut reaction was to head in that direction, but something was off. Something was making her hair stand on end.
She turned to the right to see Arnold casually sitting on a couch across the room of chattering people who seemed not to even notice him or her. Taylor was sitting to the right of him, Monica to the left, along with a collection of other girls, all with milky white eyes. Dead eyes. He had his arm slung over Monica, leaning in and nuzzling the side of her head possessively while running his hand up between her thighs.
She stood there, swallowing hard, not knowing what to do.
He noticed her though, staring at him, finally choosing to look up at her with a pair of pitch black, demonic eyes while smirking so devilishly. It sent her breath catching in her throat. "Hey there sunshine," He called to her in a silky smooth tone that sounded absolutely nothing like him, "Why don't you come and have a seat?" He then beckoned, but Helga refused to move. Frozen in her spot. Iced over by those eyes of his. She couldn't get past them. So soulless, without an ounce goodness to be found, "No?" He sat back on the couch and threw his free arm up over the shoulders of Taylor, "But you belong here. Just like they do."
Helga took a tiny step backwards, finally breaking her gaze with him to glance away to the hallway. She had to get away from him. A futile motion that made him laugh.
That was it for her. Finally finding the courage to move, she took off towards the hallway, catching him rising from the couch out of the corner of her eye. She kept running, and running but the hallway seemed to be a never ending loop of locked doors, and no matter how fast she went, he seemed to always be right behind her, calmly walking. Panicked, she gave up on there ever being an end and darted into the first room she saw open, which happened to be a bathroom.
Another place she'd never forget about. The place where it all began.
Stumbling into the room, she suddenly caught her reflection in the mirror, horrified by her own eyes starting to cloud over with white. Her sharp blue orbs, fading so fast. "No…" She squeaked as she reached up to touch her cheek. Arnold stepped into the doorway, slowly rubbing his hands together, "Come on now, sweetheart," She jumped and spun around to face him. He tilted his head, staring hungrily at her with those pitch black eyes, "You can't get away from me," He walked up to her and she backed away until she collided with the vanity, and had nowhere else to go, "You'll never get away from me," He smirked, looking down at her as he brought his hand up and slowly wrapped it around her throat, despite her futile attempt to push him away. He was just too strong, "I'm a part of you now."
Helga jumped awake on the couch, groggily sitting up and trying to orient herself. She blinked a few times, seeing the TV still on, her dogs, now awake and curled up on the couch with her. That was the first nightmare she'd had in probably six months. She hardly dreamed, much less had night terrors of that caliber. She supposed that's what she got for harboring on the thought of seeing him again right before bed. It had wrapped up about ever other nightmarish thought she'd had to put on quite a production in her mind.
Next Morning.
Helga sat at her kitchen counter, drinking her cup of coffee and munching on a piece of avocado toast. Bland, and healthy. A great combination for her at the moment. She was tired, but she'd felt worse. But she had at least woken up, knowing the answer she had for Sid. She realized that, as much as she didn't desire to face Arnold ever again, if there was even an ounce of a chance that she could help Monica's family bring their daughter home, she'd be selfish not agree to it. She may have been suffering with her own form of severe pain, but they were suffering in a whole different and possibly more excruciating way too.
She couldn't even begin to imagine.
With that in mind, she picked up her phone to let Sid know she would agree to it.
One week later.
"Nothing special, just...try to get him talking. Leave whenever you're ready. I just...I really appreciate you doing this...and so do her parents," Sid told Helga right inside the front doors of the detention center.
"I know," She nodded, "I'll try..." Was the best she could promise.
"Stall eight," He told her, pointing through the series of guarded doors that she was indeed familiar with. Her heart was already beating through her chest with anxiety. It got louder, and louder the closer she neared the booth, really hammering her ears, almost painfully.
When she finally seated herself, she felt light headed. She absolutely didn't want to be there. She'd never been more sure of that. A feeling that became even more unbearable the longer she sat. And then...and then she saw him walking up, very disheveled, looking like he'd lost about fifteen-pounds, but his dimmed eyes seemed to spark to life when he saw her.
It made her sick.
Arnold hurriedly took his seat, snatching the phone from the hook, eagerly watching her slowly unhook her own.
"Jesus! Baby, you have no idea how glad I am to see you. It's—it's just been a complete nightmare..."
Helga found herself kind of zoning out, desperately trying to stay focused on the task at hand, but...it was becoming almost impossible. She watched him sitting there, babbling away, not hearing a word he was really saying because of the anger, and the hurt beginning to surge through her veins. Closing her eyes, she looked away. How could he sit there and pretend nothing was wrong? How could he even believe she was there for him?
How?
"Helga..."
The blonde young woman snapped away from the vortex of thoughts that she had been so abruptly sucked into, realizing that she still had the worn, corded phone receiver pressed to her ear. Her clouded blue, and grimly bloodshot eyes shifted up from the nicked, pale grey counter top she'd been aimlessly staring at, back to the bullet proof plexiglass, back to a creased orange jump suit being worn by...her whole life. Her mouth was so dry, too dry to audibly form any sort of reply to him right a way, because she was desperately trying to swallow down the sickness infested inside of her.
Monsters were amongst us. Monsters were handsome. Monsters were successful. Monsters had gorgeous eyes.
Monsters had families...
...Families that had no other purpose to them, but to provide the perfect camouflage.
As if on cue, she felt a little kick from her unborn child, innocently reminding the tears that were piling up behind her swollen lids of the reason why they were there. It was finally enough to spur them into tumbling over her rims and spilling onto her cheeks in blotted streaks of mascara and heart brokenness. "I sat on that back patio every morning..." She began in a raspy voice, her broken soul being drowned with an unimaginable and unbridled level of disgust she'd never thought possible, having to call upon every fiber of her collective to stop from splintering apart right there, "And they were there the entire time."
His face was ghostly pale with hollowed out eyes that for the first time ever, she couldn't bring herself to look directly in as he whispered, "...you have to believe me. I didn't do this."
"What would have happened to me if we'd made it to Mexico?" She blurted out, going completely off script. "What would have happened to me if you'd never gotten caught?" Finally steeling her nerves enough to ask a question that had left her in a cold sweat upon many a thought, "Would I have disappeared in the desert? Would I have disappeared into a freezer or into those fucking woods?"
"I didn't do—"
"—did you think you could just…marry me, we'd play house and no one would ever suspect the good family man, the good doctor of being this...this monster?!"
"I'm not a monster!" Arnold snapped back.
"You are a monster! Look at the lives you've destroyed!" He steadfastly shook his head, unwilling to yield to her accusations and it was frustrating her to no ends. She couldn't stand a liar. And while she had gone there for one reason, and one reason only, she was bound and determined to stare him down and make him admit to her that he was the devil incarnate while she was at it.
"Deep down Helga…deep down, you know I'm not capable of these things. You know me."
"No, I don't! I don't know you! Nobody knew who you were! Admit that. Stop playing everybody for fools. You aren't as smart as you think you are."
"Helga!" He bellowed, in a voice much deeper than normal, causing her to jump, "I didn't kill those girls."
"So this is all an unbelievable coincidence huh? Coincidence that you wanted that particular house the most, of all the ones we looked at? Coincidence that you were the one that wanted to expand that patio first? Coincidence that your ex-girlfriend was up underneath it? Coincidence that a nurse on your floor is still missing. Coincidence that a dead girl was found in our storage unit? Coincidence enough that lots of their missing jewelry was found in our garage? Do you want me to go on?" Helga glowered at him, giving him a look that suggested that she was deeply offended that he would even think she were that stupid. "You murdered those girls. And...and.." She couldn't even bring herself to say what else he'd done to them, "They each were somebody's child...somebody's daughter. And God I was just..."
She felt so fucking sick and...contaminated by him.
"I know how bad it looks, Jesus Christ do I know…but you need to believe me here. If ever in your life, I needed you to believe me, it's right now, honey. It's right fucking now. Please!"
She sniffed, looking away and shaking her head, knowing she needed to get back on track. He couldn't take control of the conversation, "You need to tell them where Monica is…"
He blinked for a moment, "I can't do that. I wish I could, but I can't."
"Arnold…" She trailed off in a much softer voice, eyes closing as she took a break, "Please…if you have any compassion whatsoever, tell me where she is…" She opened her eyes and stared at him, "Her family is hurting. No matter what you did…the not knowing where she is...is much worse for them."
"Helga...I can't help them."
"For Christ's sake...where is she?!"
Her former lover's expression slowly shifted into that of a slight glare through the plexiglass, jaw muscles slowly flexing in and out, "That's why you're here isn't it?" He spoke in a low voice, "You...didn't come here for me. They convinced you to come here didn't they? To try to get information out of me. Have they got your wired up? Are these phones tapped?" His voice got increasingly more aggravated sounding, as his deep green eyes stared though her, cutting her to the bone, "I don't have anything to tell them."
Helga inhaled deeply, bringing her shaky hand to rest, knuckle side on her mouth,"God, you're making me so sick." She swallowed hard, not wanting to be the one to puke right there on the tile floor in a visitation room. The possibility of staying there any longer was over. She couldn't do it. Steeling herself, she finally took a calming breath, wiping away a few left over tears, "I'm-I'm out of here…I hope they fucking fry you."
Arnold's face collapsed into panic and he reached his hand out and placed his palm against the glass, "No. No, no…please," He tried in a very desperate voice, "Please don't do this. Please don't leave me. Just trust me here, please? Please! I-I love you, so much. Sweetheart, you are my entire world, and…"
"Don't you dare, don't you fucking dare, you sick bastard," She began shaking her head, fighting back a second onslaught of tears threatening her already very bloodshot eyes.
But he didn't stop there, possibly knowing how deeply that he was hurting her, and maybe it was all part of his twisted game. His strained, yet somehow desperate eyes fell to her ever expanding midsection, before jumping back to her tear stained face, "Helga...please...just, please… we're supposed to be married now an—and we're having a baby…that we tried very hard for. Will you think about that for a minute. How could a monster possibly want all that?"
And it finally succeeded in snapping her sorrow. Her eyes darkening, and then narrowing into a pair of thin blue slits. Before she could even stop herself, she was coming up out of her chair, leaning across the counter, with her left index finger stabbing out at him through the plexiglass, "She will never, ever even know you fucking exist, much less know the type of hell you've rained down on this community," She hissed at him in a deadly tone, having been completely overcome with the maternal instinct to protect her child at all costs. And in that circumstance, from it's own father. She inhaled sharply, her blazing blue eyes boring a hole through him, making sure that he understood that that was it for him. "You were just some random at a party. That's all she'll ever know."
He realized then that she wasn't kidding. She really was going to walk right out of those cool grey security doors, and he'd never lay eyes on her again. Her mind was made up. She didn't believe him. And she watched as his eyes shifted from their worn down, dulled green to a flashing, yet desperate shade of indignation.
His jaw was setting hard as his fist grew twitchier and twitchier. If she was going to have an outburst at him, he wasn't holding back either. Quite suddenly he slammed his palm into the plexiglass and angrily yelled, "Fine!" and slammed his hand once again, causing her to jump, "Get the fuck out of here then! You're useless to me. And you want to know why? Because all you ever were to me was a piece of ass," He began pointing at her, "A piece of fantastic fucking ass." He tapped said finger on the glass after every vile word that forked through his teeth, "And then a support system for school, a place to live and…then a lawyer. Oh, and now you're none of that! So here you go: I faked everything to get what I wanted. So, turn around, walk your ass out of those doors…" He mimicked legs walking with two fingers, "…and stop wasting my time with your pitiful search for answers." He then stood up, giving her one last hardened look, "Have a nice fucking life Helga." And with that final farewell, he dropped the phone, got up and walked away.
"I'm sorry Sid," Helga whispered before she hung up the phone, unable to hold back the onset of tears rushing her lids, feeling them tumble in a great wave once more. She was so angry, and frustrated and…so, very heartbroken it was making her absolutely knotted with sickness. Pushing away from the booth, she barely registered her exit from that place, thankful that Sid had had the common sense not to bother her. All she knew was that she had to get away from Arnold. As far away as possible.
As far away from everything as possible.
The quickest escape she could make was to her parents cabin, and it would have to do.
She drove home, packing as quickly as she could for at least a few days stay, the entire time wondering if there was a way to burn the place down and make it appear an accident.
Too much work though.
She tossed her bags and her dogs into the car and went on her way. About a mile from the interstate, she figured she needed to give her parents a ring to let them know she would be up there. Mostly so they wouldn't show up. She grabbed her phone from the cup holder and dialed their home line, hearing it ring all of twice before her mother picked up, "Hey…um, I'm just letting you and dad know that I'm going to the cabin for a few days…No…I'm fine I…" She slowed to stop at the traffic light to merge onto the interstate, "…I had a rough day and I just feel like getting out of town for a bit. I will…okay. Bye…" She ended the call and dropped her phone back into the cup holder.
Beside her, Jack and Rory sat the the passengers seat, excitedly looking out the window, none-the-wiser to their mother's shattered spirit, or the fact that the big guy who had been their dad and who had thrown all those balls around the yard for them, was never coming back. They were just excited about their car ride.
It was something to envy. Especially right then.
When the light turned green, before taking her foot off the brake, she reached over a popped her shifter into sport mode, allowing her car to really move in hopes that the adrenaline would make her feel better.
At least make her forget for a little while.
She floored it, chirping her tires onto the on-ramp and had hit ninety by the time she hit the interstate.
Two Days Later.
Using Helga had been a bust. Arnold was most definitely playing the long game, with the threat of death not seeming to phase him one bit. Sid had to assume that it was the thirst for power. He got off on the power of holding Monica's continued absence over their heads. It was sick. It was twisted. And there was nothing they could do about it.
"Hey losers," Haley walked up to their conjoined desks.
"Hey Haley," They both sort of murmured, flipping through old files.
"Wow...I finally broke you guys," She looked between them very bemusedly.
Jeremy was the first to glance up, giving her a crooked smile, "Snapped us like twigs."
"For the record, you called yourself a twig, not me," She chortled, "Lab results that Bill sent out are in," She dropped the folder down in the middle of their desks, "You're welcome."
Jeremy scooted it to his side first, flipping it open and quickly reading, feeling Sid's eager eyes bearing down on him. "It's not a match..." He looked up at his partner before sliding it over for him to see.
Sid read it for himself, and while discouraging, but not earth shattering. A prostitute had a random semen stain on her clothing that wasn't their perps. He couldn't say it was shocked or anything, "So...she was a working girl...what was on her shirt was probably from another John of hers," He snapped it shut and tossed it back on the desk and shrugged, "Doesn't help anything..."
"But doesn't change anything either."
Four Days Later.
Helga honestly had had a wonderful few days away in the mountains. The fresh air alone did wonders for her spirit. She'd slept, worked, taken her dogs on some great walks, though nothing to the extent that she was used to, and just generally enjoyed the serenity of it all.
But, like most vacation, they ended more quickly than one ever wanted. And though she'd been able to get away with having her two employees cover a lot of her tasks, her presence was once again required in Hillwood. And money wasn't going to make itself.
So back home she went.
And as she pulled off on the Hillwood exit, it was just in time for her gaslight to flip on. Driving sporty ate through gas, that was for sure. Luckily there were several gas station in throwing distance and she simply pulled off on the first one to the right. She was ready to be home, as odd as they felt to her, but she would be even more aggravated if she left it on empty for the next time she went out.
Annoying.
She half rolled the window so her mutts could get some air before popping the cover and getting out to fill it up. With everything pumping away, she leaned against her car, kind of zoned out as she waited to hear the click. "Helga?" Hearing her name jolted her back from her thoughts. Glancing between the pumps she saw a familiar man putting away the nozzle on the other side of the pump beside hers.
"Brian," She realized, "Hey, how are you?" She probably hadn't seen him in four years or more. He still looked about the same though. Most everybody she used to know did. The dirty blonde guy walked over to her, offering her a cheerful smile.
"Good, how about yourself?"
"Could be better," She shrugged, knowing that he would know everything going on. She had not forgotten Jeremy's mention of him being an employee of Hillwood's finest.
"Yeah it's...wild what's been going on," He admitted, right as her two dogs began whining through the window crack, both their head poking out like a pair of turtles. "Look at you guys," Brian's eyes lit up and he reached over tickled the top of their snouts, "You smell my two puppers?"
"Dogs know dog people," Helga commented, as she watched him pet them.
"Truth," He replied, withdrawing his hand, and pocketing it, "Well hey, I don't want to keep you or anything, but, we should catch up sometime or something. I still have the same number."
"Uh, yeah. Let's grab a coffee sometime." She had no real desire to grab a coffee with him, but she assumed he was being as polite as she was. Or hope so anyway, "I seem to be running into everybody from school these days."
"Hillwood can be small that way, even as much as it's grown," Brian marveled before giving her one last wave, "Well, talk to you later then."
Two Weeks Later.
Helga had just sat back down on her couch, a plate full of sliced apples—because she literally couldn't eat enough to even put a dent in her craving those days—when her doorbell rang. She felt her blood gel a bit in her veins, knowing that it couldn't have been anything good. With an aggravated huff, she pulled herself back off of the couch, muttering, "Let's get this over with..." as she walked to the front door.
Opening it up she found...
"Jeremy," She said, un-surprised, eyes darting around him and out into her driveway, fully expecting to see Sid as well, but seeing nothing but his lone pickup truck. Which was a little odd. He'd never showed up solo. "Um…what are you doing here?"
"I uh…was passing through," He thumbed over his shoulder, which immediately elicited an extremely skeptical semi-glare out of her, "Which is the truth. My mom lives about ten miles past here now since she…got remarried," He then sighed, "We haven't talked to you since before you saw Arnold so…I just wanted to check up on you."
"I would have called, if I wanted to."
Jeremy looked off to the side, licking his lips as he nodded, "You're right," He admitted, looking back at her, "This was stupid of me so…I'll be going then," He started backing away, turning and striding back across her front porch.
Helga sighed, suddenly feeling extremely bad for being such an inhospitable jerk. Especially when there had never been any good reason for her to be so hateful towards him, or continue to be so. It's wasn't like he'd ever done anything to her to deserve it, "Jay…wait." Her former flame stopped and peered back over his shoulder at her. "I'm sorry it's just…it's usually not a good thing when somebody shows up at my house these days," She tried on a tiny smile. Felt awkward, but whatever.
"I can't blame you."
"And I'm as well as to be expected. To answer you question."
Jeremy turned and nodded, "That's good. I'll be sure to let Sid know. He's been concerned but hasn't wanted to bother you."
Helga too nodded, "Do you…want to come in?"
"Do you want me to come in?"
"Not particularly," She shrugged, "I wasn't expecting any guests, but you spent the time stopping."
Jeremy shrugged, "Well, sure then," She then gestured towards her open doorway, figuring she'd probably regret it later, but doing a fantastic job at hiding it on her face.
He followed her into the house, and as they were walking down the foyer she asked, "Want anything to drink?"
"What have you got?"
She walked into the kitchen doorway, "Water, some orange juice I think and…some IPA's left over from Arnold if you're into that sort of thing," She commented as she moved to the fridge, leaving him on the other side of the island.
Jeremy exhaled, a tiny smirk pulling at his mouth, "Hell, give me the beer,"
Helga grabbed one of the bottles from the fridge, fishing for the bottle opener in the nearby drawer to pop the top on it before handing it off to him. "Feel free to take them all with you, if you want."
"I might take you up on that," He agreed, upturning the bottle for a good hard swig. He then proceeded to follower her out of the kitchen and into the living room, where he saw two small dogs standing, staring through the back glass before they both began excessively scratching, and a movie paused on the television. She went to let them in before there nails could do untold amounts of damage to the sliding door.
And the barking ensued.
They both circled and weaved around her, growling and barking at him with their skinny little tails tucked firmly between their little legs. Jeremy chuckled. How brave small dogs could act considering how scared they really were. Quite a show, indeed. "Quiet you two!" Helga fussed at them. To no avail. "Crimeny, you act like you haven't see him before."
"They've seen me, but haven't met me,"
The dark headed stranger squatted down and held out his hand, tutting at them before cooing, "Hey guys. Come here," The two beagles skittishly approached him, giving his hand a cautionary sniff and a lick before running back to Helga.
"See. He's not bothering anybody. Now go get in your chair," She shooed them into hopping up in an old cushioned corner chair that was clearly theirs to relax in, judging by the old blanket and raw hide chews.
Helga herself reclaimed her corner spot on the nearby couch where she'd been curled up to begin with, motioning for her guest to sit, "Wherever." He choose the opposite side of the sofa.
"What are you watching?"
"The aviator."
"Ah, good movie."
"Yep," She glanced over at him, watching his eyes look around the room, studying his face, something she hadn't done since they were together, and noticing a pretty important feature of his missing, "No toothpick huh? Smoking again?"
At that, Jeremy's eyes cut back to hers, and a small smile darted back to his awaiting lips, "Sometimes," He willingly admitted.
"How's your mom these days?" Helga found herself wondering out loud. Partly to prevent an awkward silence between the two, but also in a genuine interest in knowing since she had been brought up. She'd actually really liked his mother.
"Still at Boeing and…got married last year." He watched his ex cast him a curious and skeptical glance that he fully expected and completely understood. She knew all about his mother, and apparently hadn't forgotten a bit of it either, "His name is Val and he's retired military and…the best one she's ever brought home. I mean that. He's a good guy."
Helga softly chuckled at that. Lisa Kirk. A wonderfully kind and warm woman, who, though incredibly intelligent, suffered from a crippling taste in terrible men. And when Jeremy's father, an in-and-out of jail lowlife, had finally earned himself the long stent by shooting a man point blank in the face while trying to rob a gas station, she'd taken Jay and his older half-sister and moved back across the country to where she'd grown up.
Though he never talked about it being the reason, she'd always kind of figured that his desire to go into law enforcement had been his own way of proving that he would never be his dad, "I'm happy to hear that," And she actually was. That woman deserved some happiness.
"Yeah," Jeremy agreed, looking very relieved himself, "Me too."
A short little patch of silence rained over the pair for a moment, giving Helga the realization that she had a golden opportunity sitting in front of her. Or to the side of her rather. It was an opportunity to set some things right that had been in tattered ruins for far too long, and now that the dust had begun to settle, she could see everything more clearly, "Jay I uh…I owe you an apology for…how I've treated you since this whole mess started."
He took a bubbling swig from the beer, not appearing all that surprised by it, "I expected it, I guess," He replied before giving her a considering glance, and a shrug, "I can see how it probably felt like I was out to get you, when I went after Arnold. Mostly I think because…we never cleared the air on what happened between us."
"No we didn't," Helga softly agreed, looking down at her lap as she propped her elbow up on the arm of the couch. "Because I never tried to say sorry or…offer you any sort of explanation," She admitted with shrug of her shoulders while tilting her head towards him, "Honestly, I don't have any good reason why either. Other than…just being too proud to accept responsibility."
Jeremy then sighed, and ran his hand through his wavy black hair, "I've found myself thinking a lot about that again recently. Thinking about how if…something had been different. If I'd been different in some way. Would it have happened? Would all of this," He gestured his hand in a half circle, "Have been ours instead?" It was a very martyr like complex for him to take, and it saddened her because she understood what he was really trying to say. He wondered, aloud, if he could have spared her the nightmare she was currently living in.
For her, the answer for would always be no.
With that question at the very forefront of her mind, she found herself subconsciously biting her lip in an effort to put together exactly how to say everything she wanted to. Ultimately she decided that there wasn't any special way to go about it other than, straight to how she felt, "There's nothing you could have changed, Jay. Or anything you did wrong. I think we had…run our course and…I think neither of us could fully see it yet," She softly concluded. "We both wanted different things in life and eventually…I think…the love faded into a love of familiarness. I think I…sort of saw it, but…just…I stayed in denial about it…" She trailed off, feeling that that was the most sincere answer the had for him. Yet she wondered if time had made her remember it that way. She'd always felt that he'd been in the same boat as her, but she did wonder if that street had been more one way than she'd assumed. None-the-less, it still bothered her to hear that he had walked around, thinking he could have changed himself to have made her happy.
He could be so unreadable too. Even when they were together. Nothing had changed. And nothing about his demeanor suggested whether or not he agreed or disagreed with her summary. He only offered a simple nod, before looking down and then away for a bit, swallowing, "You remember…the night that every thing happened I told you…not to come home?"
"Yeah," She doubted she'd ever forget that night, but she wondered where he was taking the conversation, "I do."
"It wasn't because I didn't want to see you again. Far from it. It was because I would have begged you not to leave me…and for us to…somehow work it out."
"For a brief moment, I wanted to go after you that night, but…" Helga admitted, suddenly very vividly remembering how upset she'd been over how everything had gone down, how'd she holed up in Arnold's room, fighting with herself about what to do. It having been entirely her fault for trying to have her cake and eat it too, of course. But she'd realized in the parking garage, no matter how angry she'd been at Arnold, and how much she didn't want to see him for a little while, or how much she hated getting sucked into his web…she was going to go right back to him. There had been no point in even trying to apologize in that moment, "My words would have meant nothing to you and...my mind was made up," She just left it at that.
"For awhile I wished that you had, but…I'm now glad that you didn't." He admitted, taking a sip of beer, before raising his eyebrows high for a moment, "What you did, closed me off emotionally for…awhile, and…I had a hard time trusting other girls I've dated since. I think it probably would have been worse had you come after me."
On the few occasions that she'd spoken to Phoebe about her worry over possibly never ever being able to fully trust Arnold, simply because they had cheated with each other, she'd never once thought about the physiological damage she'd done to Jeremy. And there she sat, getting a taste of her own medicine, but it a far nastier dosage than ever imaginable, "I did a number on you...and then he turns around a does a number on me. I guess in the end I had this coming," She sadly remarked, catching his eyes before glancing away.
Jeremy sat his beer down on the coffee table and turned towards her, eyebrows creased tightly in concern, "Nobody deserves what he did to you and everybody else," He disagreed, shaking his head.
Helga only offered a limp shrug in return, "Him being a serial killer aside. He was still running around with another woman...doing exactly what I did to you. That I should have expected."
Her ex licked his lips and very subtly nodded before quietly exhaling, "It gets better as time goes on," He tried, "You learn to focus your energy into other things. The hate will pass, the hurt will dull, you'll...move past it all, eventually." He reassured as he reached up and ran his hand through his thick dark hair.
"Yeah," She nodded, "I'm hoping so."
"Helga I...want you to know that...I'm here for you if you ever need me," His deep chocolate eyes turned back onto hers, "I'm not trying to...force a friendship in anyway because...I don't know if you really want that and...I'm not sure I want it either myself but...I'm here," He assured her, before quickly adding, "And so is Sid. He's a the world's biggest worrier you know," He smirked slightly, attempting to be funny at his partners expense, "I imagine you are probably getting told that a lot so...sorry if so."
The blonde across the couch from him let a small, but genuine smile slip to her lips, "I am, but...it's always nice to have the option to vent to different people."
"Very true," Jeremy reached over and reclaimed his beer, and downed what remained before sitting it back down, "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"
Helga pointed off to the hallway, "First door on the left."
Nodding, Jeremy rose from his seat, skipped down to said door and ducked into the bathroom. While he was standing at the toilet, taking a piss, he glanced over to the sink, a very familiar wash rag draped through the looped wall holder catching his interest. He knew where he'd seen it before. It was the same type and color as the one pulled from Monica's car. He finished his business, washed his hands, and dried them off with the curious item before folding it and sticking it into his back pocket.
A/N: So, do you guys think Arnold snapped at her out of hurt or do you think he realized she was on to him and just showed his true colors? And what's Jeremy up to with stealing that wash rag?