Hello, everyone! I'm back with another chapter. And keeping up with what I've been doing with my other stories, it's time to answer your reviews.

The Jam aka Numbuh i- Thank you! I hope you like this chapter.

Ajay435- Indeed, I wanted to take a different direction with this than most other Hey Arnold fics. Mainly because a lot are focusing on post TJM story lines, I asked myself 'what if the TJM never happened?' I hope you like what's coming.

Guest- Thank you! You better believe I'm going to keep going

Ezza- Much obliged! More is coming very soon

Call Me Nettie- Thank you! You won't be disappointed

FicFreak92- You're too kind! I hope you like the direction it takes

YaliPage- Thank you! Phoebe will definitely be a factor here

So that concludes the reviews. I hope you all continue to follow the story, as it only intensifies from here. When we last left off, a certain boy had let go of finding his parents, and a certain girl made a promise to the city heavens. Where are they now?...

As always, hit that review button! And Enjoy!

Chapter 2. Hard Changes

Two years later…

"Harold Berman."

"Here."

"Thaddeus Gammelthorpe."

"It's Curly!"

"Thank you, Mr. Gammelthorpe….Miss Lisa Generoso?"

Flicking lint off his desk, Arnold could never understand why Mr. Frank always insisted on doing roll call every morning. Mr. Simmons just got straight to the point whether everyone was there or not. That aside, the man's monotone could put an insomniac to sleep.

"Gerald Johanssen."

"Here."

He shared a glance with his best friend, who shot him a quick smile and a thumb's up before turning to talk to Phoebe. They had recently started going out and it warmed Arnold's heart to see them together.

About time, he inwardly laughed to himself. While never outright admitting it, he knew that Gerald had had a thing for Phoebe for quite some time, and it wasn't a surprise when it turned out she felt the same way. As it turned out, that would prove to be the catalyst for numerous other relationships that began in 6th grade.

Of course, he couldn't say the same for himself. He had largely avoided the dating scene thus far for a variety of reasons. One of which was that no girl had really piqued his interest. He was still friendly with Lila, but he had accepted that she would never be interested in him in that way and so had moved on from her. And the others that were considered good looking…well most of them were shallow and reminded Arnold far too much of his first crush, Ruth McDougal.

"Rhonda Lloyd."

"Here."

Besides, it wasn't just dating Arnold had lost interest in. He found that certain activities in life that gave him pleasure didn't hold the same appeal: skateboarding, baseball, walks in the park, even sleepovers with his friends- life was not nearly as tantalizing or promising. Most days he functioned reasonably well, but there were others he lapsed in borderline dysfunction. Some weekends he barely got out of bed.

Flashback*

"Arnold, what's with you man? You missed the football game two days ago. And Nadine said you haven't contacted her once about that history project for Mr. Simmons."

They were sitting outside Mr. Green's butcher shop, waiting for their respective orders on the curb. His best friend was undoubtedly concerned. But no part of him wished to vent at the moment.

"Nothing, Gerald. I'm fine."

"You know I don't believe you," Gerald replied folding his arms. "Don't try to lie to me. You're bad it."

"I'm just in a bit of a funk, okay? No big deal."

"This has been going on longer than just a little bit. Ever since the end of fourth grade, you just haven't seemed like yourself."

Arnold didn't reply, hoping the subject would just drop.

"Talk to me, man. What's bothering you?"

In the past, Arnold would have freely opened up about his problems to Gerald, to almost anyone he trusted. But this was not the past. He had let that go a long time ago.

"I'll be fine, Gerald. It's nothing."

This time it was Gerald who didn't say anything. He just glanced at his order ticket and then at the pavement. Arnold had never seen him so disheartened, and he could feel the same negative emotion in his own soul. He couldn't stand to see it in his best friend. It was all too much.

"I have to go check on that ham my Grandpa wants."

And he got up and entered Mr. Green's shop with a clang of the bell.

He was avoiding Gerald's attempts to help him, which was difficult enough. What was worse is that he felt powerless to fix the hole that was now a permanent resident within his heart.

End Flashback*

"Stinky Peterson."

"Here."

Snapping out of his reflections, Arnold knew that Gerald hadn't been the only to notice his slide. His grandparents seemed to worry about him more as well. His grandfather would act goofier than usual, trying to attempt to engage him in awkward conversations. His grandma was more conspicuous, often dropping her crazy act when he came home, asking if things were alright. He never told them the truth, partially because of his own unwillingness to open up to anyone, but also because he suspected they knew what was causing his moodiness. But they had not broken their promise; neither had brought up his parents since that fateful day he took off his blue hat.

He touched the spot where it had once occupied.

'I haven't exactly kept my promise,' he thought. 'But I'll keep it today. Because today marks eleven years since they've been gone.'

"Arnold Shortman?"

"Here," he droned out monotonously.

Mr. Frank finished the last of the roll call list and began his lecture on biology.

Most of the students groaned, as Mr. Frank had a way of making even the most exciting subjects appear hopelessly dull.

Arnold merely pulled out a notebook and began writing the information down. There wasn't much that could make him feel worse than he already did.

He just hoped to get through the day without major incident.

Helga Pataki was in no mood to be trifled with, but then again, she hardly ever was.

"Out of my way! Move it or lose it! Step aside, geek bait!"

Her scowl still inspired fear in most people, especially now that she was in 6th grade. She didn't mind giving a shove or two either when the situation required it. Today was one such day.

As she approached her locker, a decent sized fifth grader stood in front of it, guffawing loudly with his friends.

"Hey, you're in my way, chucklehead."

The boy barely even acknowledged her as he kept right on chatting with his friends.

Guess we're going to have to do this the hard way.

Without the fifth grader noticing, Helga hooked her foot around his leg and gave an almighty push, sending the hapless boy down to the ground.

"What the heck is your problem?" the fifth grader asked with a combined look of shock and anger.

"You're my problem, bucko!" Helga snarled. "You were standing in front of my locker. I don't appreciate people standing in front of my locker. So unless you want to be introduced to Betsy and the Five Avengers…" and she showed him her fist. "I suggest you scram!"

That did the trick as it usually did. The fifth grade boy scrambled to his feet and took off running, his friends in tow.

"Haha, sucker," she laughed to herself as she opened her locker.

Bossing the other kids around and making them squirm. I'm glad some things stay the same around here.

She began rummaging through her unorganized mess of schoolwork, looking for the math book she needed next period.

Then again, more has changed than I care to think about.

If there was one thing Helga valued, it was consistency. She liked going about her business at school without interference, she liked throwing rocks at dumpsters. She could even handle her lame family; at the very least she knew what the expectations were.

But nothing could truly remain as it was. Not when you were 12 years old. Not when you were Helga G. Pataki and the world loved to screw with you at every opportunity.

For one thing, sixth grade was the year everyone had to take the infamous 'sex ed' course, which was required by the state. It involved an awkward, bumbling speech by Principal Wartz and an even more awkward presentation by the school nurse. It was an hour long, two days a week for a month and featured the nurse using a combination of props, puppets, condoms and a banana. To say it was an uncomfortable experience would be a vast understatement.

Second, the dating among the older grades had really picked up, evidenced by Phoebe and Gerald getting together. As a result, she hadn't been able to see her best friend as often as she liked, which was irritating.

I suppose I should have congratulated them. I really have nothing against tall hair boy, I just wish they weren't so touchy feely.

It also wasn't lost on her that the onset of puberty had made most of the boys too hormonal to know their ass from their elbow, all with the intelligence of a half eaten donut. Helga wanted no part of it and made a point of scaring off any guy that tried to hit on her.

I swear, most of them are more ape than man, she thought and was only half joking. And all those valley girl types swoon all over them. No boy would ever make me act like that…except one.

Arnold. That name was enough to make her do more than just swoon. Even in sixth grade, she was as in love with him as the day they had met. That certainly hadn't changed. Neither had her propensity to pick on him and spew her usual taunts and insults. What had changed, was Arnold.

Helga's reasons for hiding her true feelings were complicated and layered. She lived in fear of her classmates finding out and ridiculing her, of Arnold rejecting her. But her hostile behavior towards her love was also a way to interact with him and to provoke a response, even if it was negative. Ever since the end of fourth grade, Arnold hadn't so much as blinked an eye.

He wasn't or nasty back to her, rather he just ignored it altogether. And while Arnold was known for turning the other cheek, there were times in the past where her actions had pushed him to the edge. Now it was if the football head no longer had an edge, or anything inside at all.

Something had gone wrong. Arnold no longer seemed as lively and dreamy eyed as he used to. And if to prove her observations without a shadow of a doubt, he had stopped wearing his blue hat that had once been a staple of his daily attire. It had been surprising, as the boy considered it a part of himself and he once fell into a depressed state without it (Helga didn't like to be reminded that she was the once who had stolen that hat…at least she had given it back).

So what the was the reason for his depressed state now?

Helga wanted to know everything. She wanted to know what was wrong and try to help. To make him feel better and kiss his adorable football headed face and…

"Slow down, Helga old girl," she muttered to herself. "But Arnold, how I wish I knew what was troubling your gentle, pure soul. I want to tell you I'm here for you…that I'm listening…that I'm a shoulder for you to lean on in times of abject misery and despair. Alas, I continue to mock and ridicule you…and to what point and purpose? It says more about me than it does about you. I still remain what I've always been: a basket case too caught up in my own insecurity to reveal how I truly feel."

She pulled out the locked that contained a picture of her favorite football head and sighed lovingly.

All of a sudden, there was the familiar heavy breathing in the background of her ear. Slow, deliberate and as creepy as ever.

Without even bothering to look over her shoulder, Helga socked Brainy square in the face, breaking his glasses yet again.

"Freak," she muttered angrily as she found her math book and slammed her locker door shut, only for Arnold to be standing a mere three paces down, getting his own books.

The familiar butterflies returned to her stomach as she wanted nothing more to go over to him and ask him how was doing, what was going on and how she could assist him.

Come on, Helga. For once in your life just be nice. Be considerate. Be someone who he would WANT to talk to about his problems.

Unfortunately, such wishful thinking did not come to fruition. Her defense mechanisms kicked in and before she knew it, she had pulled out a rubber band, and placed the gum she had been chewing that day inside the makeshift slingshot.

"Hey football head! Heads up!"

Arnold turned just in time to see a giant wad of pink gum land in his hair, grimacing as the sticky projectile found its target.

Helga laughed hysterically while inwardly cursing herself.

"Oh man! You make it too easy, Arnoldo!"

But Helga could have guessed the response. There was no visible reaction or irritation, just a subtle kind of sadness in his green eyes. He merely shrugged and said, "Nice to see you too, Helga."

And he walked back down the hallway to Mr. Frank's class without another word.

The blonde girl on the other hand was a mix of fury and desperation. Furious at herself for her inability to cease mistreating the one she cared about most, and desperate to find out what caused him grief. For that sadness that lurked beneath his green orbs had not gone unnoticed.

"My, darling…what darkness holds you in its vice grip? What…what is wrong with me?"

There was no romantic monologue to be had this time. Only endless pondering about her actions. About what it would take to free herself of the walls she still hid behind.

Changes were never easy.

Well there you have it. The gang is in 6th grade, but clearly all is not well. What events will transpire as a result of this?

Find out next time! Update will not take long!

~The Wasp