A/N So, since the last chapter I've been given a couple of very kind shout-outs from some of my fellow authors! Another huge thanks to Call Me Nettie and Starfiction123, and I encourage everyone to check out their own excellent stories if they haven't already. Otherwise, thanks as always to everyone who left such kind feedback, and I hope you enjoy!

SILENCING NATURE

Chapter 7 - Taking Something Home

"These are trash bags." Helga's voice and face were flat, as she inspected the thin, black, crumpled plastic in her hands with disdain. At least they were unused trash bags. There was a certain irony in looking for a 'silver lining' when the clouds were quite literal, and were continuing their deluge. Hence the need for 'protective gear'.

"You would prefer to walk through the rain in just your shirt and shorts?" Eduardo inquired without looking in her direction as he continued handing out the thin sacks to each member of their group. The Shortmans had joined the others in their hut so that they could ready themselves for the wet trek ahead – just the short journey from door to door had left Arnold's usually spiked hair slicked back on his head. Helga could only fold her arms and pout; she knew Eduardo was right, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of admitting it. It was actually very fortunate that Eduardo had made his journey prepared, unlike the three children who had been forced to flee Lasombra's prison with little more than the clothes on their backs. She got it – trash bags are cheap, practical and, most importantly, waterproof, but was an actual poncho too much to ask for? Helga had never claimed to be even the slightest bit interested in fashion (as a certain snobby, dark-haired classmate of hers was frequent in pointing out), but she had her limits. And besides, given the amount of her young life she had spent in trash cans, dumpsters, grimy alleyways and (on one particularly gross occasion) the city dump, the bags were just a little too 'on the nose' for her comfort. With a resigned growl she began to manipulate the plastic, creating holes for her head and arms.

"Fine. But I'm keeping the hat."

They were ready to leave, having hastily enjoyed a 'breakfast' consisting of protein bars and trail mix, again courtesy of Eduardo. 'Just like home.' Helga had thought with a roll of her eyes. Actually, the protein bars had been a better brand than Big Bob insisted on buying... They were hoping to avoid yet another feast to celebrate their departure, the fact that their friends and families awaited them providing a perfect excuse not to delay. Each of the children had experienced more than their fill of action and adventure for the time being, and far more than their fill of weirdness. From what they could see outside, it appeared that even more Green-Eyed children were wearing gigantic, leafy 'Arnold heads' that morning – apparently a part of their celebration garb – and one large group were weaving bundles of long vines into what Helga had a horrible suspicion would soon be pigtails... And besides, neither Arnold nor Helga had any interest in giving Tiukwí an opportunity for more life-altering stories. Miles and Stella, much as they adored the Green-Eyed People, could no longer see the incredible city as anything more than a prison, a site of trauma and regret. The place that had stolen their life away. Maybe they could find it in themselves to return one day, if the Green Eyes needed them again, but for now they wanted to get as far away from it as possible. And as for Eduardo, he could only hope that he had earned a deeper level of trust from the mysterious people, and that he would be allowed to return soon. Perhaps he could even aid them in recovering El Corazón. For now though, his greater concern was for his old friends' well-being, and he could feel their anxiousness to see the back of the jungle city. The 'waterproofing' was the final part of the group's preparations. As Helga uncomfortably wiggled the bag over her body, carefully manoeuvring her wide pigtails through the small gap, she did her best to ignore the indignity. It didn't help that the large sack travelled all the way to the floor, concealing her feet like an extremely cheap gown. Complete with the wide-brimmed Stetson, it really was quite the ensemble. And then she heard the chuckle. Turning quickly, with fire in her eyes, she saw Arnold with a hand to his mouth, clearly trying to stop any further laughter from escaping. Her glare could have melted steel, and she pointed a threatening, accusatory finger.

"Something funny, Arnoldo?" The boy rapidly shook his head, his eyes showing an odd mixture of continued amusement and mortal fear. It wasn't like he looked any better; his own bag was comically oversized for his short body, most of it pooling loosely around his feet. Helga was actually a little annoyed that she'd missed him putting it on – how did he fit that football head of his through the neck-holes of his clothes?

"S-sorry Helga. It's just..." Another small giggle escaped Arnold's lips.

"Spit it out Hair Boy!" Ol' Betsy was raised and ready. She'd never actually hit him of course. She never had...

"Between the big hat and the long trash bag, you look like a low-budget Deep Voice!" As Arnold finally gave in, bending over in laughter, his words stole Helga's anger right out from under her, her mouth left hanging open. With a raised eyebrow, and her fist still poised, she slowly looked down, scanning herself. He was right; all she needed was a high collar and some stilts. She couldn't help the short snort of laughter that escaped her nose. 'Touché, Football Head...' But before she could fire back a retort, a shocked voice cut over them both.

"Helga was Deep Voice?!" All eyes turned to Gerald, who was looking back and forth between Arnold and Helga with an expression of stunned disbelief. Arnold's hand once again shot to his mouth, his own eyes wide; an expression that screamed 'oops'. He had always figured that revealing the extent of Helga's involvement that day would lead to further questions. Awkward questions. Ones he simply hadn't been ready to answer, even to his best friend. And sure, he could probably answer them now, but please not in front of his mom and dad...

Helga could only roll her eyes. "Well what the heck did you think I was doing on the roof of that skyscraper? Sunbathing?"

Gerald gave her a dry, challenging look, folding his arms. "I dunno Pataki, maybe you were up there getting more shots for your little 'video collection'." Helga's face flushed; she had been forced to reveal way more than she was comfortable with to get Arnold this far, and she wasn't thrilled at the idea of Gerald having that kind of 'dirt'. Granted, if Arnold remembered her little 'poems and shrines' comment from that day, he probably remembered the 'stalking you day and night' part too, but she'd still prefer not to test their new relationship (her heart danced at the very thought of the word) with actual video evidence of her obsessiveness quite yet.

"I'm sorry," Miles came to the rescue, his hand raised like a child with a question, "but who or what is 'Deep Voice', and why were you on the roof of a skyscraper?" He and Stella both wore confused looks, the faces of two people long out of the loop.

"Oh, well this guy Scheck wanted to tear down the neighbourhood, so we-" Gerald immediately set away, clearly ready to let his inner storyteller run wild, but his best friend quickly cut him off.

"Gerald, my parents probably don't want to hear that right now." Apparently Gerald missed the panicky, warning look in Arnold's eyes.

"Aw, but it's such a cool story, man! You rappelled down that thing like some kind of secret agent!"

"Gerald..."

"Then when we jumped that huge gap in the freeway in the bus, and we were all like 'we're gonna die!'"

"Gerald..."

"And when we actually crashed-"

"GERALD!"

It took a combined shout from both Arnold AND Helga to finally break the boy out of his enthusiastic rant, and he blinked in surprise. He opened his mouth, ready to protest, when both blondes pointed fingers at Arnold's parents. They looked like the sleeping sickness had struck them again in full force, their skin as pale as chalk. At some point, maybe around the word 'rappelled', the two had collapsed back to sit on the nearest stone slab, Miles' hand trembling slightly as it clasped his wife's knee, Stella's hand clenched at the clothing above her heart. Realising his mistake, Gerald could only offer his friends an apologetic grimace. The couple seemed almost catatonic... again.

"Mom..? Dad..?" Arnold leaned round to look into their faces, hoping to snap them out of their mutual horror, but apparently it was no good. They were frozen. It would take a parent to understand just how terrifying the images flashing through their minds were at that moment; their son abseiling down a tower, jumping huge gaps like some kind of stuntman, crashing a bus! And of course in every vision he was the crawling, diaper-clad infant they had left in Hillwood. The very notion made the memory of the slide incident seem like, well, child's play. After a moments longer, Stella was able to comment, addressing her husband through tight, white lips, resting her head despairingly on his shoulder.

"I blame your mother."

Relieved as he was at hearing his mother speak, Arnold managed to bite his tongue; he figured letting slip that Grandma was busy either busting out of jail or hijacking bulldozer at the time probably wouldn't make them feel any better. Suddenly though, Miles let out a small chuckle. "I blame genetics. Asleep for his whole life and apparently our boy still turned out as crazy as us." He finally managed to look at his son, a shaky smile finding its way to his lips, his eyes pleading. "I think we'd be very interested to hear all about this later. Much, much later, like on our deathbeds." He winced a little – poor choice of words. "But do us a favour kiddo, no more driving, crashing or explosions until you're seventeen?"

"Hey now, the explosion wasn't us-" Gerald succeeded in getting out that much before Helga securely clamped her hand over his mouth. She shook her head; the boy clearly had no tact when it came to handling parents. Arnold, meanwhile, simply nodded his promise, smiling hugely and still floating slightly from his father's words. 'As crazy as them'. Sure, there were probably more normal things to have in common with your parents than high-octane heroics, but talk about a strong start! The hug that soon followed nearly sent both Miles and Stella reeling back on to the bed, but they found the strength to return it. Once again, somehow the ten-year-old wound up being the one to comfort his parents instead of the other way around.

"I'm sorry to break this up," Eduardo regretfully interrupted with a chuckle – he had really missed this family, "but it is time to go. If this keeps up much longer, we could be stuck here for another day." The threat was more than adequate, and the group quickly separated and made ready to depart. The children made short work of tearing away any plastic that trailed on the floor; the last thing you want on a jungle hike is a tripping hazard... It was finally time. With a collection of resolute sighs (and more grumbling from Gerald), the group left the hut and stepped out into the storm, the water by this point turning the cobbled pavement into a veritable sluice. Somehow though, seeing the green expanse of the jungle being soaked with rain made it seem all the more alive and vibrant. And their ears hadn't been mistaken about the radical new strength of the city's waterfalls, it seemed; each roared as they carried a powerful torrent from beyond the stone walls. The river suddenly seemed a more frightening prospect... They would have to say their goodbyes before they left, they knew, and the delighted shouts and cries of the Green Eyes followed them as they walked. Apparently the downpour didn't bother the natives one bit – it would take more than a little rain to dampen their spirits, given what they had recovered since the previous day – and the group quickly gained an entourage as they moved towards the grand throne room. There sat the king and queen, resplendent on their thrones, their beaming daughter to one side and Tiukwí at the other. How strange it was that, as they approached, the nobility of the Green Eyes stood and bowed in reverence and gratitude to the three children. Tiukwí stepped forward, staff in hand and enormous smile in place, and both Arnold and Helga reflexively braced themselves. If he produced a piglet, they were ready to flee.

"My friends! We are so sad that you are leaving us, but so happy that you may finally return home." His eyes turned to Miles and Stella with that last comment, and the couple shared an excited, loving look. "I do not have the words, in your language or my own, to express the gratitude of my people. You are heroes, every one of you, and you have saved us all. We will never forget. Know that you will always be welcome here, and that the hearts of our people shall always be with you." He suddenly raised his staff, his voice booming over the crowd – it seemed that every man, woman and child had now gathered to view the send-off – as he spoke in the Green Eyes' tongue. His words were alien to the children, though the adults shared a curious look. But the final two stood out.

"AR-NOLD! HEL-GA!" As before, the remaining Green-Eyed People picked up the chant, their voices all filled with elation. Once again, Arnold and Helga found an entire civilisation offering them their praise. Their friend could only shake his head.

"Mmm mmm mmm. Is it too much to ask for a little worship? Ger-ald, Ger-ald; it ain't so hard!" His complaints were snatched away, however, as the royal family stepped forward. While the king and queen shared an embrace with Miles, Stella and Eduardo, the princess approached the three children.

"Thank you, my friends!" Her words were careful and her accent thick, but it was clear she had asked (or ordered) Tiukwí to teach her the words. Without hesitation, she clasped Gerald's hands and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek. The boy blushed and grinned, though neither were as intense or goofy as when Phoebe had done the same. Still, he seemed a little less put out.

Helga was about to make a teasing comment (probably about giving a full report of the kiss to her best friend ASAP) when the girl quickly moved to her, wrapping her arms around her in an enthusiastic hug. Helga's hands were frozen at her sides; she suspected she would never get used to Green-Eyed gratitude. They were all just so touchy-feely... She could only mutter and roll her eyes once again; "Sheesh, don't crease the plastic..." It didn't help that Arnold was grinning affectionately at the display as the embrace came to an end. Helga narrowed her eyes at the boy. 'Yeah, laugh it up Football Head. Speak a word of this and I'll... Well, I'll still be head-over-heels in love with you, but I can still love you with fewer teeth! Oh who am I kidding – I adore that beautiful smile...'

Unfortunately, Helga had chosen a poor moment to get lost in romantic musings; it affected her reflexes. Under normal circumstances, she probably could have intercepted the princess before she reached Arnold. Instead, she could only feel her jaw drop, then grit, as Arnold received a chaste kiss on the cheek too, just like Gerald. Seeing the princess take his hand when they first arrived had been enough to strike a sour chord, but this? In his defence, Arnold stepped back as though the princess was on fire. He was new to the whole 'relationship' thing (just thinking the word made his his stomach feel funny, in a way that he was pretty sure was good) but a combination of TV, knowing Helga, and basic survival instinct told him to make his next moves very, very carefully. He slowly turned his head, more than a little afraid of what he would see, and sure enough Helga's eyes were shooting daggers. Her fists were clenched like industrial vices. Somehow, the fact that the girl was wearing a trash bag and a cowboy hat didn't make the sight even the tiniest bit less frightening... Arnold had never wished ill on anybody in his life, least of all the horrific ill that lay at the hands of Helga G. Pataki, but he was relieved that those daggers were shooting at the princess rather than him. As Helga finally met his eye, all he could do was offer his most apologetic look and hope she spared his life. His hands, which the princess had gently held, were held up like those of a man at gunpoint. As it happened, he was fortunate; his reaction passed the test of whatever part of Helga's mind was still logical, but the Green-Eyed princess had most certainly made the blonde girl's list... It really didn't help that the unsuspecting girl was still standing by, giving the group an innocent smile, much as Tiukwí had done in the ancient chamber the previous night. If this civilisation was going to worship Helga G. Pataki, they really needed to learn to spot when their goddess was about to murder them. That being said, it was the old man who came to his princess' rescue, a spark of concern in his eyes; if Tiukwí could see 'the energy that flows through us', then he was probably looking at something pretty unsettling in Helga just then. He hobbled over to the girl and whispered something in her ear.

What happened next was apparently universal, transcending all language and cultures. No words were needed. On hearing whatever Tiukwí had to say, the princess gave a tiny gulp, her own bright green eyes going a little wide. Backing carefully away from Arnold, her gaze locked with Helga's own fiery stare; the words 'sorry' and 'please don't hurt me' might as well have been painted across the native girl's face. Helga's eyes narrowed, but Arnold exhaled as he sensed the tension going down. Maybe it was because Helga's fists had gone from 'coal to diamonds' tightness to 'bones to dust' tightness. He could just tell. All the same, he barely even noticed Gerald sidling towards him until the boy spoke in a tense whisper.

"Dude, I don't know what just happened, but I'm scared." Arnold returned a numb nod.

"I'm scared too Gerald." As he spoke, Helga finally broke eye-contact with the terrified girl, glancing at the boys with an irritated 'what?', her remaining fury draining away. Arnold gulped. "I think it's healthy to be scared." Fear aside, Arnold had just watched Helga stare down royalty and come out on top, makeshift plastic poncho and all. There was something about that which struck him as very... cool. Though it was really more of a warm feeling. He'd add that to the pile of 'things to analyse later' (by that point the pile was getting to be as big as the elephant), but for now he just wanted the moment to end while all parties still had their lives. Fortunately, the adults seemed to have finished their goodbyes. As they turned to go, Arnold and Helga found their shoulders gently caught by Tiukwí one final time. He leaned down slightly; his words were for the two of them alone.

"Do not be afraid, my young friends. Your destiny is a bright one."

Neither of the children know what to say to that, as the old man broke away and returned to the king's side, but their eyes met. For the first time that day, their fingers brushed. But they kept their hands apart; whatever this was between them was still new and untested, and there was too much of an audience. Call it shyness. If nothing else, both Arnold and Helga preferred the idea of Gerald hearing it from them rather than working it out on his own; Arnold didn't want his best friend to feel lied to again, and Helga just didn't want to give Tall Hair Boy the satisfaction. Like they had said, there were kinks to iron out, the appropriate times and places for physical contact being one of them, and they could wait to deal with those until they weren't standing in the middle of the pouring jungle with a bunch of Green Eyes cheering them on. As they walked away the crowd followed them, some chanting, others laughing, the children continuing to dance around the arms and legs of their parents. To them, the storm was just another wonderful reminder that they were alive, alive and awake, every drop and wet splash a sensation to be thankful for. Only Miles and Stella could possibly relate, with one enormous exception; the Green-Eyed People were home. By comparison, Arnold's parents still had a long way to go. But they were getting closer, with each and every step.

As the group finally made their way past the vast, ornate gateway to the city, they paused to look back, to take in the ancient, mystical marvel that was the Green-Eyed People's civilisation just one last time, watching as the strange machine in the city's central mound released a mighty burst of steam. Even then, the children could scarcely believe that the last few days had been real. The thought that they would soon return to filling their days in Hillwood, playing sports in a vacant lot and throwing rocks at dumpsters, made them feel somehow small. It made their world feel small... But each of them was taking something home with them. A reunited family. A finally-requited love. The most incredible legend that a kid of any generation could have the privilege to keep. Those things would remind them that all of this had truly happened. The cheers of the crowd washed over them one final time, rising above the rainfall, before a pair of Green Eyes stepped forward, raising their hands to either side of the gate. With a rush, and a final glow, the jungle itself moved to complete it's embrace of the Green-Eyed People, hiding their city once more from the rest of the world, the incredible sight lost behind a barrier of nature. Even the sound was cut away, the trickling of the rain and the calls of the wild moving in to fill the silence. The group stood quietly for a moment, suddenly feeling as though they had stepped through a portal into the real world. But in the real world, it was still raining.

"Follow me, mis amigos," Eduardo finally spoke, his gaze remaining wistfully trained on the gateway for a few moments longer, "we have a long way to go."