A/N Wow. Just wow. Thanks to everyone who left such kind feedback! I'm simply blown away. I really hope you keep enjoying the story!

SILENCING NATURE

Chapter 3 - A Special Word

"I'm... an imbalance?!"

Helga practically hissed the words, sincerely hoping for the old man's own sake that she had badly misheard. Now there was a fresh insult! Just what was he implying? That Helga G. Pataki was some kind of mistake? That she shouldn't exist? She was more than capable of bringing up those unpleasant questions on her own time, thank you very much! Her fists were clenched so tightly that her nails were digging painfully into her skin, her knuckles turning white. This was in stark comparison to her face, which was becoming increasingly red; her jaw was clenched every bit as tightly. If her attention hadn't been extremely focussed on Tiukwí in that moment, she may have noticed Arnold's audible gulp; he had a nasty suspicion that, if he had still been holding her hand, his bones would have been reduced to a fine powder. The vast majority of people, or at least those who knew Helga even a little, would probably have followed standard 'duck and cover' protocol. Arnold, though, had always been the sort to throw himself on a grenade.

"Helga, I'm sure he doesn't mean it as bad as it sounds." His voice was soft, low and very, very careful. As he dared to place a hand on her shoulder, he quietly regretted that it was his dominant hand; he tried to reassure himself that people could live full, happy lives with only one arm, and prosthetic technology was remarkable nowadays... But somehow, the gesture worked. He knew it, but he couldn't quite pinpoint how he knew it. The fire in her eyes hadn't burned out in the slightest, and was still blazing directly towards Tiukwí's face – the old man was still grinning, heaven help him – and her body was still as tense as a snake about to strike, but it was like an invisible, inaudible 'all clear' whistle had been blown. Her rage level had dropped from 'ruthlessly homicidal' to 'extremely hazardous'. He could just feel it. Plus, he apparently got to keep the arm as a bonus prize! That being said, he chose that moment to break the contact before he pushed his luck too far; somehow his hand, completely independently and without consulting his brain, had started to gently caress her shoulder with its thumb. He sheepishly wondered whether Helga had noticed; she was a little distracted.

"That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen..."

To the shock of both children, the old man's eyes were brimming with tears again. Arnold might have attributed it to fear, given his narrowly-missed consultation with Ol' Betsy and the Five Avengers, but Tiukwí's grin was wider and more joyful than ever. Helga, unfortunately, was reminded of the look Olga got on her face whenever she saw something adorable. Like a kitten.

"What in the name of crimeny is wrong with you!" She threw her hands in the air in exasperation, her brow set in a deep scowl; she was increasingly suspicious that Tiukwí was nothing more than an insane old man. He HAD been asleep for years, after all – that has to do something to a person's psyche. "First you say I'm some kind of freak of nature, then you act like you've seen the face of God in your morning toast! Talk straight and just tell me what you think I'm supposed to be, exactly! And what the heck to you mean 'beautiful'?"

Tiukwí seemed to take several moments to compose himself before responding, looking down at her kindly. "You are not a freak of nature. When El Corazón was stolen, the disturbance allowed your spirit – a powerful spirit – to pass into this world. Perhaps it was accidental. Perhaps your spirit chose to do this. Perhaps it was always your purpose to defeat Lasombra. Who can say? But nature demands balance. Without it, the earth shook. The volcano spoke. Chaos approached, until an equally powerful spirit followed in your wake, his arrival restoring the balance. Am I wrong to think that, of the two of you, Helga came first?"

"No, you're right," Arnold quietly admitted with a small nod. His mouth had become dry on hearing Tiukwí's claim; what the old man was suggesting was frighteningly intense. He wondered just how the deep, dark cavern in which they were standing became so stiflingly warm, and he tugged at his collar in discomfort. "Helga's around six months older than me. Your birthday is in March, right? ...Helga?" He frowned as he looked at the girl; all of her fury seemed to have drained away, and her face now wore a faraway look, as though she had been concussed. She was in the middle of processing something that, for Arnold, had been a terrific shock, but for her was just a slight step beyond Earth-shattering. "Helga, can you hear me?" Arnold waved a hand in front of her eyes, hoping to at least get a blink, but the she was apparently lost deep within her own mind. What Arnold wasn't to know was that the creative recesses of Helga's brain had already begun churning out poetry with the speed and efficiency of an industrial printing press.

"Are you saying," she finally spoke in a small, uncertain voice, barely above a whisper, earning a relieved sigh from the boy at her side, "that our s-spirits are... connected?" A word was starting to form in her head. It was a very special word, one that been the focal point of so many of her dreams, poems and romantic fantasies. The very notion that it might be real – real in a literal, tangible sense – was rapidly becoming more than the lovesick portions of her mind could handle. And frankly, after this many years, that was most of her mind. Suddenly, though, she frowned, remembering the finer points of what Tiukwí had claimed. She spoke again before he could answer. "Wait... So, if I'm 'Spirit A', and Football Head is 'Spirit B', and he supposedly came into the world just to balance me out, does that mean that we're the absolute, polar opposites of each other? Like, are we pre-programmed to be mortal enemies or something?" The thought made her heart sink; she was all-too aware that if you were to ask 99% of the people that knew them both, 'mortal enemies' would probably be the exact term they'd use to describe the turbulent relationship of Arnold Shortman and Helga Pataki. Of the remaining 1%, most would probably say that they barely tolerated each other, and Phoebe would be obligated not to answer. The cavernous chamber suddenly made her feel very small, and she didn't dare look in Arnold's direction.

"Yes and no." Helga grimaced at Tiukwí's response – she had been hoping for outraged denial. Instead, the old man looked thoughtful, rubbing his chin. "You are opposites, yes, I can see that much. But you are far from enemies. You are two sides of the same... equation." His face took on a look of pride, and he addressed Arnold. "Your mother taught me that word – she thought I talked about 'balance' so much that it would be useful." He gave a smug chuckle before continuing. "And the two of you are the perfect balance. Each the perfect answer to the other, making the other whole. Arnold, when you calmed Helga a moment ago, I saw your energies come together as one. I have never seen anything so pure! That is what I meant by 'beautiful'."

His words caused the children to share a wide-eyed, sceptical look. Neither of them had thought their interactions could be called 'beautiful'; usually voices were raised, threats were made, and some part of Arnold's house wound up in need of repair. Not that Arnold knew the half of it. That being said, they knew full well their capabilities as a team, not that it had ever been spoken out loud. Their sandcastles were second to none, they played an exceptional Romeo and Juliet, and their tango had become a thing of legend (though perhaps not for all the right reasons). When they cared for an egg together, the egg had hatched! They weren't sure where Simmons found that carton, but Phoebe had given them an unsettling lecture afterwards on why that shouldn't have been biologically possible... They could also admit that each had a knack for compensating for the other's failings; optimist and pessimist, dreamer and realist. When Helga's vindictiveness caused her to act unfairly, Arnold was there to set her straight. When Arnold's well-meaning plans were about to fall short, Helga was there to pull off the impossible and see the job through, whatever the cost (little did the boy know). Saving the neighbourhood, saving the Green-Eyed People, neither could have been done without both of them, together. The more each of them thought about it, the harder they found it to deny, and Helga's thoughts in particular began to run wild.

'Could it be true, my love? Dare I hope? Dare I dream that we are indeed kindred spirits, destined to be paired for eternity? Could we truly be – dare I even think it – SOULMATES? Oh, I dare, my beloved, I dare! Surely you can see, my darling, that everything he's telling us is true! We're the perfect team; Helga and Arnold, Pataki and Shortman. Hmm... Pataki-Shortman? Ohh, how long I've admired your gentle, caring nature. Your unfailing, true-blue heart. Your boundless compassion. You're my perfect opposite. Everything I wish I could be. Everything I'm... not. Oh."

"Hang on a second." Snapping unceremoniously out of her romantic train of thought, Helga found new cause to frown in worry as she considered Tiukwí's words. "If Arnold is supposed to be some kind of 'peace god', spreading love, harmony and all that other kumbaya junk, then what the heck does that make me? Some bomb that'll go off if Saint Arnoldo isn't to there to magically balance me out? Some kind of big, bad, hateful monster that can't help but wreck everything it touches?" According to the cruel voices that whispered in her ear during her lower moments, it made sense. They told her she was mean, ugly, unloved. She was Helga the Bully, her one true skill being the ability to push others around and make their day just that little bit worse. A force of destruction with a bright pink bow. Though she tried not to think about it, it wasn't the first time that Helga had wondered whether she might be genuinely cursed for everything in her life to go wrong and fall apart. Is that what it truly meant to be the antithesis of a spirit as pure and giving as her beloved? But before Tiukwí could even answer, she gasped as Arnold seized both of her hands in his, just as he had done earlier that same night, and her eyes were quickly captured by his green gaze. The verdant glow filling the room seemed to further magnify their colour, making them appear all the brighter, as if Helga had trouble getting lost in them before. The suddenness of the contact brought the fresh memory of their kiss flooding back, leaving Helga powerless to stop the ecstatic, lilting sigh that escaped her lips. She rapidly shook her head, lacking a free hand to slap herself, and saw that Arnold's face was set in a deep frown.

"Please, Helga, don't ever say that about yourself!" She blinked in surprise at the boy's agitated tone. "Look at everything you've done today! You saved the Green Eyes. You saved my parents! There was nothing hateful or monstrous about that – it was just you being strong, and amazing. You were perfect." Helga's jaw dropped. No-one, not once in her life, had called her 'perfect'. To hear that now from Arnold of all people... Her heart skipped so many beats that she feared she might pass out, and it took ever ounce of her willpower to keep the shrill, girlish squeal exclusively in her head. Arnold, of course, had quickly looked away, his left hand instinctively shooting to the back of his neck and his cheeks turning pink; it was clear he had allowed himself to get a little carried away, and Tiukwí's chuckle from the sidelines didn't help one bit. He cleared his throat and took back her hand before continuing. "What I mean is, whatever Tiukwí's suggesting that you are, there's got to be more to it than just that. Right?" His question was directed at Helga and Tiukwí in equal measure, but he kept his eyes locked on hers; whatever their differences in the past, he hated the idea that she could think so little of herself. Not after everything she had done.

"Arnold is correct." Tiukwí resumed his kindly smile as he spoke. "Your spirit is like a great fire, Helga, and fire is a force for creation as much as destruction. When fire scorches the land, it leaves the ground ripe for for new life. Though fire may burn, it may also nurture and give comfort. It is a force of change, neither good or evil. Within you I see raw, endless drive, and intense passion. Your potential has no limit."

"Well we already knew that from the fourth grade aptitude test, didn't we?" Helga blinked several times at Arnold's joking mention of the test; it had been a proud moment for her, once the mistake had been cleared up. How sweet, she vaguely thought, that he remembered... His face had fallen into its classic, half-lidded gaze, a smirk playing on his lips. "So you see, it's not bad. It's even got a nice ring to it – Helga G. Pataki, Fire Goddess!" He theatrically waved his hands through the air, as if spelling out her name in lights. For the first time since this all began, Helga let out a short burst of genuine laughter, Arnold's smile immediately becoming wide in response.

"I dunno, Football Head..." She tapped her lips in mock consideration. "Don't you think 'Helga G. Pataki, Fire Demon' sounds a little cooler? Maybe a tad more realistic?" Her mind, of course, was doing somersaults. 'Arnold just called me a GODDESS!'

The boy chuckled. "Whatever you say, Helga."

She turned back to Tiukwí, her arms folded, Arnold's words of encouragement having lifted her from her malaise. Her face now held a playful smirk. "Ok, so we've established that I'm pretty darn extraordinary, as if that was news. So, if I'm fire, I guess that makes Arnoldo water?" Her question was only half serious; mostly, she was just worried that if she didn't move the conversation along from the 'let's lavish praise on Helga' stage, her head might finally explode. Tiukwí laughed, but appeared thoughtful at the suggestion, nodding his head.

"It is not quite that simple for either of you, but compared to yourself, Arnold's spirit is more like... air. The breeze that eases the burden. Air is the guide that fire follows, and the fuel fire needs to reach its full potential. Just as it can make a flame larger, a strong enough wind can put the fire out entirely. In this way, he is your counterpart."

"Huh. Well there you have it," Helga patted Arnold's back, her face deadpan, "you're an airhead. Guess that explains how the football stays inflated." The jab earned her a look of gentle admonishment, though Arnold's smirk remained intact.

"Good one Helga." He turned to Tiukwí once more, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. One hand fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt while the other awkwardly rubbed his arm. Everything that the old man had said seemed to point to one thing, one giant elephant in the room, and he could wait no longer to address it. It didn't help one bit that the ethereal lights of the chamber made him feel as though he were standing under a green spotlight. "So, I'm sorry if I'm misunderstanding this, but I need to know. Tiukwí, are you saying that me and Helga are, um, m-made for each other?" Although it was a question that had been burning in the back, and often the forefront, of his young mind for months, the gravity of the question had certainly increased dramatically since hearing what Tiukwí had to say. It was one thing – one very large thing – for the boy to ask himself whether he loved Helga G. Pataki. But to even consider the possibility that the two of them might be literally made for one another, might be actual soulmates, was a little terrifying. Yet somehow, it was also thrilling. Arnold's heart was racing, and for the life of him he couldn't determine if it was out of fear or excitement. And he certainly couldn't look at Helga right now. He wondered just how she would respond to his even asking such a question. A year ago, he would have guessed disgust, nausea, and probably violent retribution. But since that rooftop? Had he dared to actually glance in Helga's direction, he would have seen the girl's eyes nearly bulging completely out of their sockets. While he was going through his own internal debate, the girl was doing everything in her power to remember how to breathe. Her knees were trembling in the stunning revelation that it had been Arnold that actually asked the question, and not her. She wasn't sure she would have even had the courage. She could barely register the concept, even after all this, that Arnold might share her thoughts and curiosities about what the two of them might be to each other.

Tiukwí, amazingly, didn't even flinch, though he considered his response for a moment. "Yes. Well, she came first, so you were made for her..."

"Hahaha..." BOOM. That did it. With a final burst of half-crazed laughter, Helga hit the floor in a dead faint, Tiukwí's response pushing her past the point of mental overload.

"Helga!" Arnold quickly darted to her side, his face pinched with worry as he knelt next to her, cradling her head. As he absent-mindedly brushed the fresh dirt from her hair and bow, it didn't escape his notice that, passed out though she may be, the girl's face bore a wide, serene smile. While he gently patted her cheek, quietly calling her name, Tiukwí knelt at her other side, his scrawny arms trembling as he struggled to his frail knees. The old man's face was similarly filled with concern. He once again spoke rapidly in the Green Eyes' language, before collecting himself enough to find the translation.

"I do not understand." His voice was heavy with confusion. Had Helga been conscious, she probably would have taken some satisfaction from the knowing grin finally being wiped off his wrinkled face. "She said you have known each other for many years! You have taken all of this so well! Surely this cannot be so great of a surprise? The way your spirits interact, you must always have been drawn to each other."

Arnold blushed gently on hearing this, but didn't take his eyes off the girl in his arms. "Actually, Helga's acted like she hated me pretty much all our lives. I never hated her back, I guess, but she always kind of pushed me away if I tried to be nice to her. I don't think many people would even call us friends." For the first time since their meeting, Tiukwí's face showed a look of abject horror. He looked back and forth between the two children, settling his gaze on Helga before shaking his head in disbelief.

"Poor girl. Silly girl." He muttered so quietly that he may well have been speaking to himself. He looked down on Helga with utter sympathy. "You must have been in agony. Is she alright?" He queried Arnold, the boy nodding rapidly in response. Hearing Tiukwí's last words had only deepened his blush, while also hitting him with a powerful sting of guilt. He couldn't have known Helga didn't hate him, could he? She had put so much effort into hurting him! But then, he had said it himself before their kiss; the truth had always been sitting there somewhere in in the back of his mind. He had always wondered if her cruelty had existed only to cover up something more. Should he have tried harder? Would she have even let him try harder? It had just been easier not to think about it, to stay out of her way when he could.

"I've seen Helga get knocked out a couple of times, actually." He finally shook himself from his thoughts enough to give Tiukwí an answer. "She usually comes to pretty quickly; I think she's got a hard head." He fretted as memories of a rogue baseball resurfaced; this would be a really, really bad time for Helga to get amnesia again...

"Ohh, Arnold, I do... I do..." Right on cue, Helga began to mumble softly, her eyes gently fluttering open. "Gah!" Her eyes bulged wide in shock as she saw the two faces peering down at her. Panic was a forgivable reaction. One moment, Helga had been gazing at her beloved in a suave, black wedding suit, listening to him pledge his eternal devotion, and the next, she was lying prone on a cold stone floor. His grubby face was inches from her own and painted with concern, accompanied by a far less familiar face that vaguely resembled a walnut. Also, her head hurt. The reality of the situation came flooding back to her as she scrambled to her feet, batting away Arnold's outstretched hands and panting heavily.

"Helga, are you-" Arnold's worry hadn't lessened in the slightest. He wasn't to know that for Helga, when he was concerned, swooning was par for the course. And Helga had zero interest in having him realise that now. Despite the chilly air, her brow began to sweat.

"I'm fine! Guess my blood sugar was a little low or something, heh..."

"Really?" Arnold was sceptical. "Because you ate like four portions of roasted pig at the feast-"

"SO," she loudly interjected, desperate to move the conversation along, "what did I miss? You were saying that Arnold and I were," she nervously cleared her throat and made air-quotations with her hands, "'made for each other' or something. Obviously a ridiculously laughable idea but hey, I'm slightly intrigued. Tell me more." She did everything she could to hide her excitement, her face the very picture of nonchalance, but she suspected her whole body was slightly trembling.

Tiukwí, on seeing her recover, had painstakingly risen to his feet with Arnold's assistance, but his face had still not lost its look of confusion and pity. The exertion had left his voice shaky. "What more can I say? Your spirits are connected in a way that I never thought possible. The fact that fate brought you together at such a young age tells me as much, and there must have been other signs! I say it again, you must always have been drawn to each other – it is nature itself. I cannot imagine the effort it would take to pretend otherwise." With that, he gave Helga a particularly pointed look. She decided, in retrospect, that she probably preferred his annoyingly persistent grin; his current expression made her feel like she was being scolded. Arnold's thoughts, however, had been elsewhere since hearing Tiukwí's latest claim. Drawn to each other? His mind quickly ran over the many, many, many times that they had collided; by this point they had covered just about every corner in Hillwood. Definitely just bad luck, or weirdly matching schedules. Granted, they sometimes bumped into each other in less likely places, like on the pier at Thanksgiving, and at the same camping ground on their woodland trip. And at the exact same beachside duplex during spring break, miles away from the city... Probably coincidences. Yeah. And sure, Arnold had an odd tendency to notice when Helga wasn't around, even if others didn't, but she was his bully! Of course he paid attention to her! That was obviously just an instinct honed over the years for his own safety. He was starting to get a stomachache...

"I think... we need to talk about this." Helga regarded Arnold's face as he spoke; he looked like he wasn't far from passing out himself. Again, a forgivable reaction, she thought. For a ten-year-old to be told by an ancient, jungle shaman that his lifelong tormentor was in fact his soulmate, and to hear that they were pulled together by some supernatural quirk of physics, was probably kind of a lot to take. She could concede that. But crimeny, did he have to look so scared? She really hoped that the green tinge to his skin was just from the lights of the cavern, but the nagging voices were quick to start whispering that this was the reaction anyone would have to finding out they were stuck with Helga G. Pataki for all time.

"S-sure. I think it's fair to say this, uh, development warrants a calm discussion." She slowly nodded her head, suddenly finding their underground setting just a little too confining. Helga was fond of escape routes on general principle. "But maybe not here? Much as I love ominous, tomb-like caves, I keep worrying that ol' Tiukwí here is going to wave that staff and pronounce us man and wife..." She chuckled faintly at her own joke. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the time. For some reason, though, Tiukwí laughed regardless.

"There is certainly no danger of that!" Helga gave a tiny sigh of relief; for a moment she was afraid she had put an idea into the old man's head.

"Well, good, because we-"

"You are already married."

"WHAT?!"

A/N Poor Helga. She's had an emotional day.