Hey, guys.

So it's been a little longer than I wanted to update this, but the next chapter is finally here. This one took me a bit to figure out because of the context of what happens. You want certain scenes to go right as it adds to the future story line. In terms of sheer emotional depth, Hey Arnold is the greatest I've ever written for. So, I hope you all enjoy, as this really is the most important chapter so far.

Please let me know what you think, and leave a review!

Chapter 4. Fateful Spark

Baseball practice came to a close and the group dispersed as the evening set in. Helga made her way back to the Beeper Emporium, where they currently resided. Hard times had befallen Big Bob Pataki and his business. With cell phones becoming more popular, there was no need for pagers any longer and they were fast becoming what Phoebe summed up as "a relic of an obsolete technology."

Helga had witnessed her father agonize and stretch out every nickel to try and keep his Emporium going, but eventually he gave into reality. They had lost the mortgage on the house, and thus were stuck living in a run down, decaying building that had once been the crown jewel of Bob's success…no longer.

She entered the building and dropped her backpack off at the side of the door. She looked around and spotted Miriam passed out on the couch, a bottle still clutched in her hand.

Yup, right where I left you, she thought and heaved a sigh of exasperation. Since moving into the old Beeper Emporium, they had tried to make it somewhat hospitable. They had placed a few couches and a radio in the center of the store, as they could not afford cable. Helga's room was the old break room for employees, which was just big enough for her and her possessions, along with her Arnold paraphernalia. It wasn't the most ideal of circumstances, but to Helga it was just another in a long list of inconveniences she had to reconcile with when it came to her family.

She was just thinking of going to the fridge to try and find something to eat, when she heard familiar heavy footsteps come around the corner,

Great, she mused sourly, knowing what was coming.

"Oh, good, it's you," Bob said as he appeared with a stack of boxes only someone of his size could carry. "Helga, I need you to take one of these boxes full of beepers and try to see if anyone in the neighborhood will take em off our hands."

Helga refrained from lashing out and instead, pinched her fingers on the bridge of her nose.

"Dad, how many times do I have to tell you? No one wants beepers anymore. The world has moved on and you should too."

For once, there was something what could be called 'humility' in Big Bob's face as he set the boxes down.

"You don't think I know that? I'm a freakin dinosaur selling all this outdated crap. The business was always fickle," he noted bitterly. "But now I'm trying to find a job in the cell phone industry. AT&T just set up an office downtown, and I think I have a shot at one of their start up positions."

His demeanor then shifted to that of stern determination.

"But until I get that job, we have bills to pay and a house to get back. So that means we have to sell whatever inventory left around this dump. You're going around the neighborhood and convincing people to buy these. Understood, little lady?"

Helga could feel a plethora of emotion swirl inside her at this latest demand. On the one hand, she understood and even sympathized with her dad. Miriam was as drunk and unproductive as ever. They had been forced to live in the emporium for the better part of a year. Bob was far from perfect, but at the very least he was trying. It would ease the burden just a bit if she put in her own effort. On the other hand, she raged at his stubbornness, his inability to see this all coming, his vulgarity, impatience, and inconsideration for others around him. He still got her name wrong from time to time. Every bit of pain and neglect she had suffered at the hands of this insane madhouse of a family, Helga wanted to release back upon tenfold. But she couldn't. In her heart of hearts, she knew such an action would do more harm than good. So, she did what she always did, and pretended not to give two licks. She gave the illusion the Pataki's were just as strong as her father wanted to believe.

"Fine, Dad," she responded as she struggled to lift one of the heavy boxes. "Just don't be surprised if literally no one wants any of this junk."

"Good," Bob said gruffly. "Couldn't ask, Miriam, she's damn useless these days. Your sister is going to visit in a few weeks to help out so I'm hoping I can get a different job before she sees…all of this."

Helga scowled as she headed out the door.

Of course, he's too embarrassed to let Olga see we're basically living like scavengers. Because she's all that matters, never mind the 12 year old they still have to actually provide for.

She felt physically nauseous at the thought of her older sister cooing and demeaning her, just she always did to her 'baby sister.'

"Olga can deal with it," she snarled as she kicked the doors open and headed out onto the street, the box she was carrying not getting any lighter.

"Hey! Be careful with those!" she heard Bob yell after her, but she paid him no mind.

Between their precarious financial situation, Olga, and her beloved, she enough to worry about without concerning herself with a relic of obsolete technology.

As she predicted, the selling of beepers proved to be a total wash. Very few people were interested in buying something they already had a cell phone for. Hence, by the time she reached halfway around the block, the box was as heavy as it had been as she started. In fact, the box was so large she could barely see.

"Stupid beepers! Stupid Olga! Stupid Big Bob! Stupid everything!" she muttered angrily to herself.

As the box was impairing her vision, she did not recognize the familiar boarding house that loomed in the distance.

Arnold's day had been extremely unproductive, but no less emotionally stressful. All day, whether at school, at the park he had been thinking about his parents. About how they were out there somewhere but never to return. That they loved him, and they always would.

Just like Grandpa told me.

As he sat on the perch of the Sunset Boarding Arms' stoop, he quietly wrestled with the conflict that maybe it wasn't a good idea to delve too deeply about his mother and father…or perhaps had been too hasty in letting them go.

"Gah!" he shouted out loud in a rare outburst that did not suit him. "What is wrong with me?"

Just then, the door opened to reveal his grandfather.

"Hey there, short man," he greeted cheerfully. "Dinner is ready if you want some."

Arnold could feel the guilt permeate his senses, but he refused the offer.

"No, thank you, Grandpa. I'm not hungry right now."

"Well, I guess I don't blame you, knowing your grandma and the surprises she likes to pull…"

It was then he caught the look on his grandsons' face and knew right then what was going on.

"Oh…today's the day isn't it?" he asked sadly.

"Eleven years."

Grandpa Phil began to rub his hand on the back of his neck, a physical peccadillo inherited by his lost son, carried on by his grandson.

"I understand, Arnold," he said in a sympathetic tone. "But your grandma and I still worry about you. We feel that…you're unhappy."

Arnold bowed his head slightly. His grandpa wasn't wrong, but as with Gerald he couldn't bring himself to admit it openly. He had moved on and had no intention of doing otherwise.

"I know, Grandpa. I'm just keeping a promise today."

"Arnold, there's no shame in missing them. It doesn't have to be just for today."

But the pre-teen held firm, stubbornness or not, healthy or unhealthy. That didn't currently matter.

"I'm doing fine," he said turning to look at his grandpa with something of a forced smile. "Really, you don't have to worry so much. I'll come inside soon."

His grandpa stared for a moment, his eyes betraying that he did not believe his grandson was the slightest bit 'okay'. But he would not press his concerns further. His philosophy of letting Arnold figure out his own problems had worked well so far in his raising of the boy, he wouldn't abandon it…at least not yet.

"Well alright, short man. Dinner will be in the fridge if you want it."

Closing the door, he went back inside.

Arnold mentally sighed. No part of him felt good about keeping his closest friends and family at bay. It wasn't that he couldn't talk about the issue, it was that he didn't want to. Which opened a whole new can of worms. Why didn't he want to? When did he become a closet full of secrets? It was certainly an antithesis to how he normally handled situations; head on and facing whatever the problem was. For the past two years, however, his behavior could only be described as pure avoidance. The avoidance of his own feelings that he had yet to acknowledge-what he had been telling himself about his parents was a lie…

No! he thought, clenching his fists. I'm not going down that rabbit hole again. They're gone, they're never coming back. That's what I have to live with. For better or worse.

A small voice echoed in the back of his mind echoed, But you're not living. You've almost stopped altogether.

Arnold had no answer for that. Shaking his head, he got up off the stoop and headed down onto the street. Maybe another walk could clear his head.

"OUCH!"

"Oompf!"

He had been so caught up in his own thoughts, he had run straight into Helga, who was carrying a large box full of what looked like beepers.

Shaking her head, Helga regained her senses and saw immediately who it was that had crashed into her, the familiar butterflies returning to her stomach.

"Arnold!...I mean…watch where you're going, hair boy!" she yelled, her mean front coming forth with a vengeance. "Sheesh! What are you? A freakin magnet or something?!"

Arnold picked himself up off the ground and as usual, offered to help her up.

"I'm sorry, Helga. I guess I wasn't thinking."

As usual, she rebuked him.

"Yeah, yeah," she huffed, swatting away his hand. "Save the chivalry, Arnoldo." She got up as well and began picking up the beepers that lay on the ground.

Arnold appraised her and asked curiously, "What are you doing, anyway?"

"If you must know, my dad is making me go around the neighborhood to try and sell the last of his stupid beepers that nobody wants. Not that it's any of your business."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he responded kindly as she finished gathering the beepers and put them back into the box. "Sounds like your dad's being pretty stubborn."

"Yeah, well that's Bob for you. All he cares about is work, eating, and how many sports games he can watch on a given weekend. Some of them have a ball with an uncanny resemblance to your cranium, football head."

She laughed at her own joke, but there was no spark or even a half hearted attempt to respond from the boy she secretly loved.

"Uh-huh," was all he said in a mumble as he turned to go back inside.

Helga wasn't sure what made her do what she did next. All she knew was that she was sick of interacting and observing whatever 'this' version of Arnold was. It went beyond her usual actions to tease, prank, and subsequently hide whatever feelings she held for the boy. For the first time in her life, she felt genuinely confused by the person that seemed to be a shadow of his former self. The shining light of Hillwood had dimmed to a mere flicker. The Good Samaritan, who had helped probably half the city in some or another, was lost. His steps heavy, his posture reduced, and the subtle sadness in his eyes ever present. It dawned on the blonde girl, that this frightened her greatly. And this time, her fear for Arnold's well being superseded her fear of him finding out her feelings for him.

With no further contemplation, she reached up and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Alright, that's it! What's with you lately, football head?! This isn't like you. You always skip out when the group does stuff together, you never want to play any sports, you never react when I call you names or shoot spitballs at you…for crying out loud, it's like you don't care about anything anymore! Just go back to being the annoying little do gooder well all know you are!"

There was slight spark in Arnold's eyes at Helga's sudden frustration with him, but it came as quickly as it went. He twisted away from her grip and his tone betrayed his own frustration.

"What's it to you, Helga? All you do is try to get a rise out of me. Since when do you care about how I feel?"

Helga could feel her body go numb. This was inching dangerously close to her well guarded secret, which caused her to be at a loss for words.

Come on, Helga! How do I phrase this without giving myself away?

When she didn't respond immediately, Arnold frowned and again headed back up his steps towards the door of his boarding house.

"Good-bye, Helga."

In that moment in time, the blonde girl with the scowl and pigtails could feel another opportunity ruined. The chance to show her better side, her true side, and thus gain Arnold's affections, was slipping away yet again. Her heart pounded like the drums of God, threatening to burst from her chest as he neared closer to the door. It was a scene taken right out of the many that she had completed in her young life: Arnold turning his back, leaving her to dwell in another anguishing monologue on her cruel actions.

No…it couldn't be this way. Not again.

Be someone who he would WANT to talk to about his problems.

Taking a deep breath, she made a decision that would change her life forever.

"Arnold, wait…"

The oblong headed boy stopped just long enough to turn around and see Helga walk slowly up the steps, a look on her face that he had rarely seen before.

"I'm...s-sorry about all that before. I don't blame you for telling me off, especially after all the names, countless spitballs, and childish pranks. But the truth is, it's hard for me to see you this way. You're always so kind, considerate, and helping other people…well it's clear something's eating ya. And if you want to talk about…f-f-f…"

She struggled to get the words out as if it were almost physically impossible.

"Feelings!" she blurted out as her stomach did a back flip. "Then…well…I, would like to listen."

Arnold almost didn't believe what he had heard. He knew deep down, Helga was not simply the mean spirited bully she portrayed herself to be. But he could scarcely recall a time where she openly went out of her way to be nice to someone, or even profess a compliment. Even in the moments where she expressed some form of kindness or bravery, it was only temporary, and she would revert back to the nastiness that he had associated with her for so many years.

Yet, here she was, offering an open ear. He was intrigued to say the least. And also, a bit weary.

"You really mean that?"

Helga on the other hand was trying not to shake from a combination of anxiety and resisting the familiar urge to resume her bullying.

Criminy! How hard is it to be nice?! I just hope I didn't give too much away.

Thankfully, it only appeared that Arnold was surprised, not somehow onto the fact the she secretly loved him. So she managed to get out her next sentence with a little less effort.

"I do," and she gestured for him to take a seat with her.

Arnold considered the situation. On the one hand, he had no reason to trust or give Helga the time of day. After all, she was the girl that had done her best to make his life miserable since he was three years old. What reason did she have to help him now? On the other hand, there were times where Helga had actually tried to assist him. Those times where a sliver of the person he suspected lurked underneath, shone through and strangely enough, he really liked that person.

If only she showed it more. I wonder…is this one of those times?

He had never pretended to understand Helga G. Pataki and he figured he never would. Out of all the people to pour his heart out, this was the last person he had in mind. If he couldn't with his grandparents or Gerald, why the blonde girl with the one eyebrow and the pink bow?

I must be crazy, he thought.

Nevertheless, he accepted Helga's gesture and sat with her.

He agreed! I can't believe this! The girl thought excitedly. Don't blow this. No insults or crass jokes. Be there for him and listen!

Thankfully, she didn't have to pry much in order to get him to talk.

"I think you've guessed that I've been off lately," he began to explain.

"Lately? Try since the end of the fourth grade."

Okay, so she has noticed, Arnold thought, mildly impressed.

"Anyway, today was particularly bad because…it's been eleven years to the day my parents left."

Helga's stomach sank like a heavily weighed anchor as she mentally chastised herself for not remembering. After all, it had been only two years ago to this very day she had promised to try and be there for him, to be for him what he had been for her. Nevertheless, the pushed that aside and tried to listen to the oblong headed boy she loved.

"That's why I was so down today," Arnold continued to explain. "It's basically why I haven't been myself for a while now."

Helga nodded.

"You miss them." It wasn't a question.

The sadness increased within the boy's bright green orbs.

"I do. But that's part of the problem. I've tried telling myself that I don't. That letting them go would take away all the wondering, all the pointless hope, all the bad dreams at night where I find them and then they disappear."

Helga could feel Arnold's pain very deeply and it broke her own heart slightly as she realized just how much her love was going through.

"I'm in a no-win situation, Helga. If I keep hoping they'll come back, I get let down. If I try to forget about them, I end up feeling even worse. Either way, I'm just…sad."

He turned his head to the side, unsure of what to say next.

"It's strange seeing you so…unoptimistic for once," Helga said slowly. "Usually, you're giving a pep talk."

"I guess everyone had their limits," Arnold shrugged. "Even me."

Helga was unsure of what to say next. Relating to people, sensitivity, and talking about feelings was not her strong suit. She had a difficult time just admitting certain things to herself, much less other people. But this situation was different. She would anything for Arnold and she had to try and help him now.

"There's no shame in missing them, Arnold," she said softly. "Doing so doesn't make you less of a person, if anything it's the opposite."

"My grandpa more or less said the same thing," he replied, flicking a rock from the front of the steps onto the street. "But it doesn't stop the endless questions: what kind of people were they? What did they to do for fun? Were they into sports, theater, or music? Could they cook? Could they have helped me with my science homework? Even something right down to their pet peeves, I want to know about it. But I'll never get that chance. And I'll be wondering for the rest of my life."

The blonde girl wanted nothing more in that moment to take the football headed boy in her arms and never let go…to kiss him and tell him it was going to be alright….that he was never alone. But Helga had years of practice in the art of restraining her overwhelming passion for Arnold. In a rare moment of tact and partially out of necessity, she took another approach.

"I never knew your parents, so I don't know the answer to those questions. But I do know this, if they could see you right now, they'd be really proud of you."

Arnold perked up slightly at this comment.

"You think so?"

"Are you kidding?" Helga said incredulously. Honestly, the boy was too humble for his own good sometimes.

"Arnold, look around you. You've helped nearly half the city in some way or another. Most people don't bother to think about others before themselves, but you're the grand exception to the rule."

The blond boy gave something of a smile, still almost not quite believing it was Helga who was saying this.

"If that's not something to be proud of, I don't know what us," she continued. "And I'm certain if your parents could see all this," and she gestured around the block. "They'd be amazed. I know I rag on you a lot for being a goody two shoes, a wet blanket, and a killjoy…"

"Get to the point, Helga."

"But in actuality, you're the best person I know. And everything you do for us and your friends…well I just want to s-say, thank you."

It took Helga a great deal of effort to say those last two words. It also took her a great deal of self control not to revert back to her old ways and insult him once more, as well as proclaim her undying love in a fashion that would put most romcom's to shame. But she had to hold her composure, not that Arnold made that any easier as he gave her an adorable wide smile that never failed to melt her heart.

Arnold, on the other hand, felt considerably uplifted, but was also a little confused. Helga had just gone out of her way to make him feel better on the day of his parents' disappearance. Moments like these were few and far in between. His Grandpa once told him that old leopards didn't change their spots, but then again, he had always sensed there was something more to Helga than just a scowl and a sour disposition. Perhaps he had been too stuck in his own head lately to notice properly.

"Thank you, Helga. That means a lot."

To his further amazement, the blonde girl returned the favor, her scowl turning into a smile. One pure and radiant.

Wow, I've rarely seen Helga smile before. It's…really nice.

But just as quickly as it came, it was gone as Helga partially lapsed back into her old attitude.

"Don't sweat it, football head," she said off handedly. "Just don't get used to the cheesy speeches. I'll leave that stuff to you."

Arnold laughed in response.

"You got it. Probably been awhile since I gave one."

"Can you give one to Harold about deodorant?"

This caused Arnold to chuckle yet again, and in her mind, Helga was doing a celebratory dance.

He thinks I'M funny! He's laughing at one of my remarks as opposed to one of Lila's corny farm stories! Oh, how I've waited years for this!

Just then, they heard the sound of a large van rounding the corner, soft, repetitive music echoing throughout the block as it stopped across from them.

"Looks like the Jolly Olly man is making his final rounds for the day," Helga observed as they watched him set up his stand. "Wanna go get a Mr. Fudgey bar?"

"Well, it's kinda late…" Arnold said hesitantly. He figured he shouldn't stay out too long, lest his grandparents get worried.

"Ah come on, hair boy," Helga ribbed him. "Live a little. I'll even buy."

That definitely was enough to convince Arnold to partake in an early dessert. True to her word, Helga bought two Mr. Fudgey's, to which the Jolly Olly man complied with his usual neurotic mumbling.

They decided to eat on the curb just in front of the boarding house, savoring the frozen, chocolate treat.

"Man, that guy needs a valium or a soft padded room, am I right?" Helga cracked in a bored tone.

Arnold laughed a bit, but saved any further criticism.

"He's got a hard life," he said diplomatically. "I worked with him on Career Day."

"I'm surprised your head didn't end up in his freezer."

"I'm serious, Helga. The Jolly Olly man may act mean, but he doesn't have an easy job. It's not just little kids he has to deal with. His dad owns the business and if he doesn't sell a certain amount at the end of each week, he threatens to fire him. I wouldn't want that kind of situation, would you?"

Helga shook her head, half amazed, half mystified.

"That's more like the Arnold I know. Honestly, I don't know how you do that."

"Do what?"

"See the good in everyone. No matter how mean or nasty they are, you always give them the benefit of the doubt."

Including me. The worst of them all.

Arnold rubbed his chin and gave half a shrug.

"I guess when I think about it, everyone has a story. Even the most awful people weren't always that way. They have the same potential as you or I do, and they deserve a chance to show that potential."

"Well I hope you know that certain people are lost causes."

"You sound kind of like Gerald, right now."

"Well at least Tall Hair boy has some modicum of sense," Helga muttered. "A broken clock is right twice a day after all."

"Gerald is right about a lot of things," Arnold countered. "He's pretty smart, actually."

Sensing the discussion could lead to an argument, Helga changed tactics.

"Well let me ask you this," she said trying to indicate there was no threat of a joke or taunt. "If you believe so much in others, how come you won't believe in yourself?"

It was quite a loaded question, and for a split second, Helga was afraid she had hit a sore spot as the boy frowned. Had she gone too far?

Thankfully, Arnold was not upset, merely thoughtful. Moments like these were another reminder of just how profound Helga could be, and though she was often blunt, that didn't take away from the truth behind the question. He had been too hard on himself lately. Those principles that were so effective in dealing with other people, had been remarkably absent in his own life.

"You're right, Helga," was the last thing the blonde girl had expected to hear and she had to keep her jaw from dropping.

"I have been wallowing a lot lately, but even worse I've been avoiding problems. Even if thinking about my parents is painful, I just have to accept that and keep going."

Helga, fully expecting Arnold to become defensive, struggled with what to say next.

"Well..I-uh…glad you see it my way, football head. So, yeah I hope you'll stop moping."

She never could quite understand how she had the ability to think of and write soul searching monologues that could fill up endless journals yet have the articulation of a Fred Flintstone when it came to interacting with her peers in real life situations.

Thankfully for her, Arnold still retained a benign and serene nature. He didn't appear the least bit offended and as he polished off the last of his Mr. Fudgey bar, some semblance of a spark returned to his face.

"I'm certainly going to try a lot harder," he said with small grin.

"Good."

There was a small, somewhat awkward silence, as they both looked away from each other. Half embarrassed, but also realizing that a moment like this between them wouldn't last long. They would walk away from each other and tomorrow things would go back to the way they were. It had been that way since they were potty trained.

"Well, I best be off," Helga said as she swallowed the rest of her fudge bar nervously and did her best to ignore the brain freeze, standing up on her feet. "We have that geography quiz tomorrow and you know how Frank is with those darn European maps-"

"Helga."

Arnold had cut her rambling and stood up as well. Anyone else, they might not have been able to interrupt, but the boy had an effect on her that no one else on earth did.

"You really helped me, today. I can't thank you enough for that."

"Hey, you'd do the same for me," Helga said casually, though her heart was ponding like mad in her chest. "In fact, you already have. Just don't get go getting any funny ideas just because I was nice this one time."

"Believe me, Helga, I won't."

And with the gesture of a gentleman, he offered his hand out to her.

Criminy, he wants to shake hands? He really is too humble for his own good.

Despite finding the offer a bit awkward, she still took his hand and shook it once before quickly pulling back. Inwardly, she melted any time Arnold touched her but deftly betrayed none of that hidden affection.

"See ya, round, I guess," said Helga.

"Yeah, see ya round."

She turned to leave only for Arnold to call out to her one more time.

"Wait! Helga, you forgot all your beepers."

The blonde girl saw the box that she had not even bothered to watch over for the past hour, still full to the brim with beepers that she had no intention of lugging all the way back to the emporium.

"Nah, just leave it," she said, kicking it over with a push of her right leg. "I'll tell Bob I got mugged or something. The box can go to a hobo. He'll probably need it more than anyone needs a beeper in the 1990s."

Arnold couldn't help but chuckle again at Helga's lackadaisical sense of humor.

"Well, alright then. See you, tomorrow."

"Catch ya later, Arnoldo."

Helga made sure he was out of sight before jumping in the air with silent glee. In fact, she was so ecstatic she began to skip rather girlishly on her way home.

I did it! I managed to have a full fledged conversation with Arnold without totally berating him! And what's more, he THANKED me! I kept my promise!

Arnold, on other hand, couldn't know how joyful Helga was, but he was very aware of his own feelings after the conversation they just had. If someone had told him that his boyhood tormentor would be the one to try and help him with his internal problems, he probably would have laughed them out of the building.

And yet, here he was, in considerably better spirits, all because of her.

As he headed to the refrigerator to eat some leftovers, he pondered her words once more.

'They'd be really proud of you.'

He smiled widely as he took out some meatloaf and potatoes, envisioning his mother and father with happiness for the first time in very long time.

Yes, somehow, he knew Helga was right.

Well, that was certainly something different wasn't it?

Where will the journey take Arnold and Helga after today? Find out soon! Update will not take as long as last time.

~The Wasp