Everyone changes with time. A day, a week, a month, a year... they all count. So how much can a group of rag tag 4th graders from P.S. 118 change with junior high, high school, and a whole bunch of history between those seven years? A whole lot.

Years Later

Schwanengesang–The Swan Song

They were all a wreck.

All three of them.

Sid D. Gifaldi.

Phoebe G. Heyerdahl.

Helga G. Pataki.

Especially Helga G. Pataki.

Both Phoebe and Helga were already losing a noticeable amount weight, considering both females were spending every free minute in the hospital, running on two hours of rest– sometimes they were so tired that they would both fall asleep in the middle of class, and they were smoking more than they ate. Plus Helga was pulling double shifts at Patty's and her eyes always seemed to be red and puffy everyday when she walked into school,... it was a wonder to those who knew– meaning Sid, Phoebe Gerald, and Arnold– that neither female had actually fainted yet. Somehow, just somehow, neither had yet.

Although, Sid was no better himself. He tended not to eat as much, a great feat for someone who was dubbed The Bottomless Iron Stomach by his teammates; he had dark rings under his eye from his lack of sleep– only running on three hours of sleep each day, and was walking around like the living dead during the school day.

Even Coach Grant had noticed Sid's condition.

He was barely even benching ten reps of 60 pounds during weight room practice. This concerned Grant very much, after all, the State Championship was approaching very quickly, it was only four days away.

They were all a wreck.

All three of them.

(Y/L)

The room was fairly quiet. The only sounds that were keeping Helga company was the turned on t.v. that she had long abandoned watching, her pencil on her paper– the one that was due in about four hours, and the sound of the heart monitor– slowly and steadily beeping with every beat of her sister's heart.

Helga sat in a very stiff and very uncomfortable wooden chair with a non-existent cushion on it that was placed conveniently by the Hilda's bedside. Most of the wires and tubes had been removed but a quite a few remained, poking and prodding into her small frame. Hilda still slept serenely in the bed of her new "home" with her light blonde hair splayed across the standard white hospital pillow with some strands sticking to her pale face, dark lashes fanning against her clammy skin, and wrapped in a cocoon of the standard white hospital sheets, completely unaware how grave the situation around her was.

As hard as the doctors had tried, Hilda still got it.

She had acute chest syndrome along with a crises. She was going threw the pain of her body being pinched everywhere, especially in her chest area, not even understanding why it was happening to her. All the young Pataki knew, was that whenever she woke up screaming from pain, a doctor or nurse would run in and give her painkiller to dull the painful episode and then they would give her some medicine that would make her go to sleep.

Her room had been monitored by the hospital twenty four-seven for the last two weeks.

She didn't even understand, but Helga did.

In fact she understood too well.

She knew that at one point Hilda had a fever that was borderline one hundred and five degrees. It was as if she had gotten a case of pneumonia, but it wasn't.

It was much, much worse.

She knew her sister's hands and feet were swelling, she knew her sister was experience short of breath, she knew that the doctors were still injecting her with penicillin and she knew it was only a matter of time.

Helga got out of her seat stretching for a moment before she walked over to the large window to the right of Hilda's prone body.

She found herself looking outside at the early December morning, two floors above the ground. It was the seventh of December and in four days Hilda would be another year older, in six days her mother will have spent another year in Rosedale Cemetery, on 73rd street off of Glendale Drive.

It was cruelly ironic.

Devastatingly, horribly, cruelly, ironic.

Fate, the Cosmos, Destiny, whatever you wanted to call her– yes her– had never liked Helga G. Pataki. She had a demented vendetta against Helga and took pride in hurting her and pushing her down whenever she tripped or lost her way. She loved shoving Helga off a cliff, whenever she got too close to the edge and took sick, sick pleasure in watching Helga tumble over whenever she fell from that cliff.

And people wondered why Helga was so sarcastic and cynical.

She heard the door open behind and she did not even have to turn around to know who it was.

"Phoebe, I'm not ready to go yet."

The Asian female hmphed, "Yea, but you're exhausted."

Helga pressed her face against the cool window and relished in the peace that she almost felt.

Almost.

"You're one to talk."

"Yea, I know, but I did get a grand total of three and a half hours of sleep, and I got Sid to stay at home and sleep tonight– or rather last night, so now you need to get some sleep."

"No, I have to finish my paper."

Phoebe walked over to the blonde and guided her to the coach that was opposite of Hilda's bed, "Some much to do, so little time... well, I'll finish for you." She pushed Helga down onto the couch and then forced her to lay down. "Now sleep."

"Why?" Helga whispered as she felt a blanket being pulled over her, she didn't why Phoebe bothered with it, Helga was too numb to feel anything anyway.

"Why what?"

"Why do I feel like I'm falling apart on the inside?"

Phoebe paused, she just stopped what was doing. She found herself sitting down in the couch, near Helga's long legs without even realizing what her body was doing, until it was done. "Because... because the truth is... the truth is th-that we all are."

Helga reached out her hand and Phoebe took it in hers and that's how they sat for the next three hours, before they had to get up and head back to Crinshaw High School, bidding their time before they could leave and head back to the hospital.

(Y/L)

"Sid, you look like hell!" Wolfgang said as the junior closed his football practice locker. They had just finished their night practice and it was approaching ten o'clock. Technically no team was supposed to practice that late.

But technically, no one wanted to mess with Coach Grant.

Sid raised a raven eyebrow as he finished toweling his dark hair of its excess water. "You do wonders for my ego Wolfy."

It was Friday, the tenth of December and tomorrow was the day.

The day that all of Crinshaw was looking forward to, the day where the Golden Ones would once again prove why they had the deity status they had in the town, the day the Spartans waited for the entire school year, even after finishing it, they longed for it once again, waiting for it all through the summer time.

The day, you ask?

Why the day of the State Championship, of course.

"Yea, you're starting to resemble a string bean, man. Bottomless Pit, what happened? Did all that food catch up to you? I mean, you're not even eating two lunches like you usually do." Harold added from the bench he sat on, right next to Arnold and Gerald.

Sid shrugged his shoulders once again. "What can I say, I've lost my appetite."

"Right," Wolfgang said, sitting down next to Harold, obviously not believing a word coming out of Sid's mouth. But couldn't blame them, he wouldn't believe a word coming out of his own mouth if he had the time to actually think about what exactly was going on around him.

"What can I say," Sid looked in Arnold and Gerald's direction. "Do you two have any comments for me? "Cause it seems to be Reach Out and Help Sid Delano Gifaldi Day."

Gerald quickly shook his head no, but Arnold on the other hand, decided to open his mouth. "You look sick, you have bags underneath your eyes, you've barely been able to catch my throws, you've barely been able to keep the defensive players off of you in practice, basically Sid," He said as he got up from his seat and walked over to Sid and put his hands on his shoulders. "I think you need a day of rest. If I see you tomorrow at the game, good. If I don't," Arnold shrugged his shoulders. "That's just as good."

With that said Arnold patted Sid on the back and left the locker room throwing out a goodbye as he left.

Gerald followed him, after all he was Arnold's ride home... or non-home, considering they were going out to the movies with Kamelia and Lila.

Eventually Wolfgang and Harold left, leaving Sid 'Pretty Boy' Gifaldi, virtually alone in the locker room, and there all alone in his corner of the locker room, Sid Gifaldi actually allowed to the tears to come to his eyes.

The tears he never privileged himself to let come over the past two weeks and three days.

The tears that had been prickling his eyes for the last two weeks and three days.

He just let them come and wash him away.

He just let himself cry, and cry, and cry.

(Y/L)

Phoebe grabbed a pair of change of clothes for herself, Helga, and Sid– both of whom had emergency clothing stashed at her house– in a blue duffle bag that waited patiently on her bed. Once that was done she grabbed three disposable toothbrushes and some toothpaste, a few books, a Princess Powder Puff Video, Hilda's birthday present, her CD player, a few CDs, and a comic book or two and stuffed those in the bag before she deemed the bag worthy of being closed, and close the bag she did. She threw the duffel bag over her shoulders and put on pair of sneakers.

After grabbing the keys to her mother's Ferrari and a thick winter blanket off of her dresser, Phoebe made her way out of her room and down the stair, and was almost out the door when she heard, "Phoebe Heyerdahl, where do you think you're going?"

Phoebe pivoted around and was shocked to see her mother and father standing there, she had not seen the pair for at least a week. "Well, as you know, the sister of my best friend is in the hospital, and I'm going to visit. It's not a school night, so it's not like it matters when I get home."

"And how do you plan on getting there?" Her father, Hiroshi Heyerdahl, asked.

She held up the Ferrari keys.

"And you where going off with my car, without my permission!" Her mother, Irina Heyerdahl, screeched.

Phoebe did not even bat an eyelash. "You're hardly around for me to ask, so I just make my own ways of transportation."

Her mother glared at her with her dark blue eyes, the same pair of eyes that Phoebe owned, it was almost unnerving, but at the same time it wasn't. Phoebe did not even give a damn, or a double damn, that her parents were trying to reprimand or control her. They had lost that privilege a long time ago, when she had just started Junior High. "Is there a reason why you're glaring at me, Irina?"

Irina opened her mouth to begin her harpy-esque screeching, but Hiroshi held up a hand and Irina clapped her mouth shut but continued to silently glare at her daughter, who was still holding the precious key to her strawberry red Ferrari.

"First of all, Phoebe," Hiroshi began, trying to let her know that he meant business. Once again, Phoebe did not even bat a single eyelash. "You will address us without respect as mother, mom, father, or dad. Are we clear?"

He waited for an answer.

There was none.

"I said, are we clear?"

"Of course we are Father Hiroshi."

Irina hmmphed and Hiroshi rolled his dark eyes upwards. "You can go visit that Pataki girl and that Pataki girl's sister, but you will be back here tomorrow afternoon. We are going to visit your grandmother, she is having a function, and you will be there!"

Phoebe said nothing, but Irina did.

"And we are going to do something about your hair. Mama will be very upset you chopped off all your hair and put it in such a boyishly disgusting cut. She'll wonder what's going on in our home..." Irina rambled own not even caring that neither her husband nor daughter were not listening to her.

Now it was Phoebe's turn to roll her eyes. "Is that all Irina and Hiroshi?"

Both her parents waved her off.

Phoebe snorted and stormed out the house, not even bothered that her parents were back to their normal old ways of ignoring her. Figures, the only time those workaholic baboons care about me or anything concerning me, is when it deals with appearances at Grandmama's house– stupid rich old hag...

Phoebe got into the car, and she could feel the oh so familiar pricks behind her eye, she knew exactly what those pricks meant. She was bound to find herself sobbing any moment now, but as long as she did not crumble in front of Helga and Hilda then she was okay with that.

She did not want Helga to know that another part of her foundation was crumbling.

She put the keys in the ignition and revved the engine twice so her mother could hear before she shot off in the direction of the hospital, purposely screeching the tires as she went.

Phoebe could almost swear that she heard a similar screech come from the direction of her house, but she wouldn't swear by it.

(Y/L)

All three of them.

Sid D. Gifaldi.

Phoebe G. Heyerdahl.

Helga G. Pataki.

Stayed overnight at the hospital talking to Hilda, who was so full of medicine and painkillers that at times it seemed like she was almost delirious. Once the she finally fell asleep in the wee hours in the morning, the three best friends talked to each other.

Both Phoebe and Sid told Helga what happened with their respective 'families', both conveniently leaving out the parts where they both broke down and cried. To which Helga told them to do what their respective families told them to do and of course somehow during the middle of this conversation, Hilda woke up and put her two cents in, telling them both that she was okay and to go and do what they needed to.

Promptly afterwards, she fell right back to sleep.

The three best friends laughed, something none of them had done in a long while.

"See," Helga said as she began to push them both towards the door. "The young one has spoken. You," She looked at Phoebe. "Go to your Grandmama's Grande Function and suffer like you usually do. And you," She now turned her gaze to Sid. "Go home and get some sleep on a comfortable bed, then go out there and crush the Wayside Warriors, but not too much, 'cause you know I still got friends there. Hilda and I will watch it on the TV," She said as she gestured to the TV set up in the corner of the room. "Now, scat!"

Reluctantly, Sid and Phoebe began to leave.

"I said scat! It's okay, I've got money along with all the money in the survival kit, you've brought here today– or rather last night, Pheebs. Just go, we Pataki girls will be waiting here just fine when you two get back! Now, go." Helga threw them a small smile, a smile that was a reminiscent of her old smile, the one that would light up her face and reach her eyes.

Phoebe smiled back and began to pull herself and Sid out the door, "C'mon Sid, I'll give you a ride home. Bye Blondie, see ya in a few hours!"

Sid let himself be pulled away as he yawned. "Bye Helgs, don't forget the pre-game will start at seven on–"

"Channel sixty-four and the game will start at seven thirty, I know. Now bye!"

And with that Phoebe and Sid headed off to their respective homes.

(Y/L)

Around eight twenty, while Hilda and Helga were watching the Spartans on the TV, Hilda turned in Helga's direction, keeping her gaze just a little to the right of Helga's head, and asked, "Do you believe in angels?"

Helga shrugged her shoulders lightly. "Hmm, I dunno."

"I do," Hilda said, her gaze still remained unfocused on Helga and on the same spot behind. "I believe they exist."

Helga turned around and saw nothing and no one behind her. "Okay...That's good I guess. Everyone should have something they believe in..."

"You know, everything will be good in the end, right? Everything will be fine okay. And if you every need help call for an angel to guide you, they will always be here to help you. They're really helpful, I promise..." Hilda rambled on not even aware of the look her sister was giving her.

To Helga, with her clammy flushed face, sweaty and oily blonde hair pasted to her face and pillow, unfocused gaze, and her rambling, Hilda seemed just a bit possessed, just a smidgen or two. And being the lovely sister she was, Helga decided to let Hilda know. "You look and sound possessed."

Hilda tried to laugh, but it came out as shallow breaths. "That's funny." Finally her gaze focused on Helga. "I'm hungry."

"Want me to get the nurse to bring you some food?"

Hilda scrunched up her small nose. "That food taste bad."

"Then what do you want?"

"McKee's!" Hilda shouted pumping her small fist into the air.

Helga arched one single blonde eyebrow over her blue eyes. "Okay, I guess I'll be sneaking in McKee's in tonight. I'll be right back."

Helga got up from her chair and began to move towards the door, but was stopped when one cold and clammy hand caught hers. She looked over to Hilda, her grasped onto her hand tightly, almost as if she were afraid to let go. "Yes Hilly?"

Hilda cocked her head to the right and looked directly into Helga's eyes, it was a little bit unnerving for the elder Pataki female. "You won't forget what I said, right?"

Helga moved over to Hilda's bed and brushed the blonde strands off her face with her free hand, before she kissed her sister's cool forehead. "How can I forget a speech from my dearest sister when she looks possessed?" With a quick squeeze Helga moved to let go of Hilda's hand, but Hilda was not ready to let go of hers.

"I love Helga Geraldine Pataki."

"I love you too Hilda Gertrude Pataki. Now, if you're really hungry you'll let me go so I can sneak you up some good preservative packed, oil fried, and fattening food."

This time it was Hilda who squeezed Helga's hand and then she simply let go, with a bright smile that climbed all the way up to her light blue eyes. "I'm hungry."

"And I'm going." With that, Helga grabbed her coat and made her way out to the local McKee's that was only two blocks away from the hospital. When she got there, she was surprised to see that there was a long line; she figured most of Crinshaw was at home, or at the game, watching them gain another championship.

Helga almost thought that there were a few complex brained creatures in the town that did not live through the Crinshaw Spartan football team vicariously.

Almost.

Her theory was proven wrong when she realized that there were four TVs set up around the fast food restaurant, all tuned into channel sixty-four, the local TV channel.

Figures, there is no way to escape... unless you move to another town… in another state…

When she finally got to the cashier, she ordered Hilda's favorite, a double cheeseburger with fries and a frosty, and ordered herself a cheeseburger.

(Y/L)

Helga carefully hid the precious McKee's that her sister all but demanded, in her jacket and happily entered the room that was allotted to Hilda, and was shocked at what she found in the anteroom.

There were doctors and nurses all running in and out of Hilda's room, as if they had just cut of their heads and were running around, looking for it. None of them seemed to notice the panicked Helga Pataki standing there in the room with her coat long forgotten on the floor, along with her food.

She turned to the nearest nurse and asked, "What's going on?"

The nurse looked surprise to see her there, "Who are yo–?"

"I'm her family. Now, tell me what the hell is going on?"

The nurse hesitated to respond, but she let her brown eyes flicker to the door that led inside of Hilda's actual room.

Without another word Helga rushed to the door, not paying any heed to the nurse calling after her.

Inside, the room was just how she left, with the TV on, her Survival kit thrown onto the couch, and the shades of the window closed. Except now, there were doctors all around Hilda's bed and now, she couldn't hear the sound a machine steadily beeping, and although the TV set was still on, the room was deathly quiet.

A doctor came towards Helga, but she just began to back away from her, shaking her head slowly. This continued until Helga found herself against a wall in the room, a wall that was directly across from Hilda's bed, and next to the couch."

"Are you Helga Pataki?" The doctor asked slowly, as if she were talking to a small child instead of a teenager.

For a long time Helga just stood against the wall, barely breathing. Finally, she found the remnants of her voice. "Y-yes."

The doctor cleared her throat. "I regret to inform you that Hilda Pataki..."

Helga's mind drowned out the rest of the woman's standardized sentence that she had probably practiced a million other times on the family of other patients. She did not need to hear her to say it, she could already feel it in her heart.

Hilda was dead.

Helga let her body slid to the floor, letting herself cry like she had been everyday for the last eighteen days, but today was different, very different.

She no longer had to put on a brave face and wipe her eyes, no all she had to do was cry herself dry if she wanted.

So that's what she did.

Cry herself dry.

(Y/L)

Nope, I still don't own Hey Arnold! I doubt I ever will... Thank you Fallen Angel, Demile, Jaded Angel, Smoking Panda, Bea, Hi, Drucilla Black, Shadow Goddess Akhet, Yzibella, Garlic Blanket, and TrinityKitty for the review that keep me writing. I guess nothing more to say.

PS:

So long Hilda Gertrude Pataki...

Next Chapter: Damaged

The review button demands that you click it...as do I...

S.L. Cipher– The Queen of Eville (No this not a spelling mistake but a higher echelon of evil, look it up in The New Cipher Dictionary of Cipherous Lexiconography) who will gladly accept all criticisms, advice, reviews, praises, and flames with a large Cheshire Cat Smile. Why the Cheshire Cat Smile? Why, because Cheshire Cat Smiles will always piss people off and Cipher loves pissing people off because it is exceptional fun... Especially when they try and attack you. Which is exactly why when one wields the Cheshire Cat Smile, it is important that they must also wield a mace and a sword.

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