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

Damaged

Phoebe sat at a large dinner table, in a very stiff champagne colored dress, and with her now long black hair– which was there thanks to the hair weaving skills of Fiabio, her mother's hairdresser– settled at her waist. She saw old woman Aria standing with her mother and father, doting them with her presence, and she could feel the old bat's eyes focused on her, but Phoebe not budging. She had become a non-budger and she was sure as hell staying as far away from her grandmother as she could. She floated across the room and settled in a corner by herself, not caring that cousin A from city X, had won a beauty pageant, or that cousin B from city Y, had won a medal in gymnastics, or even about cousin C from city Z, who had a rich boyfriend who was just ready to pop the question and pop a fat diamond onto her ring finger.

No instead, Phoebe was concerned about her family back in Hillwood, about a half an hour drive away from where she was now... she could only wonder how Helga, Hilda, and Sid was doing.

Hmm... tonight's the championship game... hmm... they'll probably win anyway... another win added to a legacy...

(Y/L)

"Gifaldi, can I count on you out there?"

Sid looked up at the stern face of Coach Grant and nodded back non-enthusiastically, "Yea."

Grant stared down at Sid, hard, as if he were trying to will himself to develop some form of telepathy so he could hear what exactly Sid D. Gifaldi was thinking.

Grant grabbed Sid up from the bench roughly by the collar of his pristine white, black, and red shirt. "Do you have something out there, waiting for you?"

Sid nodded his head and mumbled, "Yea."

"Then I expect you to go out there and play like whatever out there depended on you playing a goddamn madman… Are we clear Gifaldi?"

"Yea."

"I can't hear you!" Grant screamed into Sid's ear.

Sid winced before he shouted back, "Yes, Coach Ghran."

"Good, now get out there!" Grant roughly shoved Sid's helmet into his arms and shoved him towards the football field where he saw Arnold, Gerald, Wolfgang, and Herald all waiting in their own white, black, and red shirts all stained in green and brown marks.

This one's for you Hilly... this one's for you...

Strapping on his helmet, he ran out towards his friends, ready to play for what he wanted...

(Y/L)

Phoebe had been sitting in the corner for at least a half an hour when the Temptation's Sugar Pie Honey Bunch, started to play, and the sound was coming from her bag. Happily, Phoebe snuck out the room and answered the phone, relieved to actually finally have human contact, even if was over the phone.

"Hey Helgs! How's every–"

"She's gone..."

"Wha–"

"S-she sent me to get food," Helga's voice cracked and she paused for a second. "And w-when I got back, she was, she was gone... Hilda's g-gone."

Phoebe froze in disbelief, letting her cell phone slip out her grasp and simply smash onto the cold cement ground... and even though the phone was on the ground she could hear Helga crying over the phone line... she knew she had to go, but how could she go, if she also crying...

She dropped to the ground by the phone, listening to Helga crying, as she let loose tears of her own, before she could finally tell Helga, she would be right there. She clicked the off button, and ran for the garage, where her mother's Ferrari was parked

(Y/L)

"...And there it is... The score is twenty-seven, twenty- four, with the Cornwell Lions leading. The ball's in the Crinshaw Spartan's possession. Linshaw is looking for a hole, for anyone to be open, there's ten seconds on the clock. Johanssen is blocked– wait a minute Gifaldi is wide open, Linshaw sees it and throws and... Gifaldi catches it in the end zone. The Crinshaw Spartans win the championship! That is another one to be added to the Crinshaw Legacy folks... I'm sure Grant is feeling pretty good right now..."

Sid felt his teammates pick him off the ground and carry him off the field on their shoulders... it seemed like everything was going to be alright... for once...

That was for you Hilly...

About an hour later Sid Kamelia and Kaylia Alba's house, or rather, mansion ready to make a brief appearance at the party before finding a way to get to the hospital. He had just stepped outside Harold's Hummer and was making his way to the door when he saw her.

In the corner near the steps stood one long haired Phoebe G. Heyerdahl wearing a tight champagne colored evening gown. Dark trails of mascara ran from her down her cheeks and her eyes looked pink and irritated and she clutched a pair matching champagne colored shoes in her hands. That was a disturbing sight in itself, but when Kaylia told Phoebe she looked like death, and Phoebe started to tear up, he knew something was definitely wrong.

He ran over to her and tried to hug her, fully knowing well she was cold in her strapless gown, he could see the goose bumps forming goose bumps on her pale skin, but she shrugged him off. "Phoebe, what's wrong?" He asked, but he already knew the answer, he just did not want to acknowledge, he could not acknowledge it.

The corners of Phoebe's mouth turned upwards, in a small and almost pitiful smile, it was disconcerting and sad at the same time. "I was at, I was at the old hags house, when she called, and she said," She paused breathing heavily, "She said, that she, that she..." Then Phoebe just railed off, not even daring to finish the sentence, knowing Sid already knew what the complete sentence was, but that did not mean she wanted to say it. "So I took my mother's car, she tried to stop me, but I just left, and I wanted to go to the hospital, really I did Sid," She looked at him the eyes with her own eye gleamed with newly formed tears. "But I can't... I just can't, I want to be there... for her, but... but I can't... I... I... I hate hospitals... she hates hospitals too... and she's stuck in one... again... I don't think I can go through this again... I was strong enough for the both of us back then... but now, n-now, I-I just don't think I can... So I turned to go to Crinshaw and get you, but then... then I realized that game was already over, and was coming here when... when the car ran out of gas, so I... I...I had to walk a few blocks or so, but I couldn't do them in heels, so I took off my shoes... and then I decided to stand out here." She looked down at the blue cell phone that was clutched in her other hand, only to remember that the screen broke when she dropped the phone. "I don't know how long, I've been out here Sid, but... but, I'm kind of... cold."

Sid reached out to hug her, and this time, she let him. They clung onto in the middle of a cold December night in front of Kamelia and Kaylia Alba's mansion in front of the Golden Ones and their girlfriends, but neither cared. Sid could feel the warms pricks forming in the back of his eyes, it was the all to familiar feeling that had been having for the last two weeks. He was going to break down, but he couldn't right now. Phoebe was already half way to becoming a complete wreck, and neither of them had seen how Helga was, and by now, she probably past the wrecked state and was already to the brink of insanity. Which, of course, was probably not being helped by the fact that she was in same hospital her mother had died in years ago.

Pressing Phoebe tightly to his side, helping her to walk out of the corner, towards the curb of the street. Phoebe had gone silent, that was never a good sign when it came to Phoebe G. Heyerdahl. As long as Phoebe was yelling, stammering, or even crying, a person could tell what was going on in her head, but when she was quiet... all bets were off...

He took a deep breath before he spoke to other Golden One, "I need a ride to the hospital, right now, it's an... an emergency."

There was silence for a whole minute, but there was a whole lot of looked shared during that minute. After those long sixty seconds of mind numbing silence, Kamelia was the one who finally spoke, "Wha? Are you injured or something?"

"No."

"You sure."

"Yes, Kammie, I just need a fucking ride the fucking hospital... if you don't mind."

He saw Arnold throw Gerald a look, a look he had not seen Arnold use since they were in sixth grade, but, it was the same look nonetheless.

After Gerald sent Arnold back a dark glare, he said, "I'll take you."

Kamelia opened her mouth to protest but, Gerald stopped this with a quick peck on her lips, "I'll be right back. Let's go Sid," Sid careful walked to Phoebe to Gerald's car and was placing her in the back seat when he heard Gerald say, "You are coming Arnold." In a tone full of accusations.

Sid slid into the car and closed the door right after he heard Arnold say, "Yeah."

(Y/L)

In Hilda's empty room, Phoebe and Sid found Helga, tucked away in a corner of the virtually empty and sterile room, by the wall that was directly across from Hilda's empty bed.

When she heard them come in she did not raise her head to acknowledge them, instead she kept her face rested in her crossed arms, as her arms rested on her raised knees. Barefooted, Phoebe walked across the room and silently sat beside her and tried to coax Helga into talking.

Helga would not budge.

Sid sat on the other side of Helga and began talking to her.

Helga would not budge.

When both teens realized that Helga was not even going to give an inch, they silently enveloped her into their arms, and simply stayed that way.

Both Sid and Phoebe were heedless to the fact that neither Arnold nor Gerald were no longer in the room. They left the room and went to sit in the waiting chair that stood outside in the anteroom, both feeling like voyeurs when as watched Phoebe and Sid try to get the female, who was once thought as the mean bully with no heart, then the social outcast with issues, who was now just Helga, to actually talk

Sid and Phoebe mutely by Helga's side for the rest of the night, gathered in the corner of a pristine white hospital room, ignoring the low buzz of TV as it constantly replayed Sid's amazing game winning catch all through the night.

(Y/L)

Here rests Hilda Gertrude Pataki

Sister, daughter, friend.

"Hope springs eternal in the human breast:

Man never is, but always to be, blest

The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,

Rests and expatiates in a life to come"

Helga had chosen the words for Hilda's tombstone, knowing that Hilda would want something short and sweet on it, but, also knowing that she would love her tombstone to say her favorite Alexander Pope quote, a quote that Helga had taught her.

So Helga did both.

But that was all that she could manage to do. Olga Gerlinde Chesterfield had swept into 1421 L Street, Hillwood, New Jersey on the twelfth, immediately dealing with the funeral arrangements. She had all but abandoned both of her sisters years ago, but had to make sure in the public eye that she looked like a grieving elder sister, missing her younger sister, a sister that she never knew.

And look like a grieving elder sister she did, to Helga, it seemed that Olga's new life in the Broadway lights had only seemed to increase her acting skills. The large crocodile tears streamed heavily down her face, fortunately, she was wearing waterproof mascara and smudge proof eyeliner. She sobbed every time Hilda's name was mentioned and even pretended to try and launch herself onto Hilda's snow white coffin.

Over dramatic?

Yes.

Effective?

Triple yes.

The paparazzi was eating the whole thing up, even though, Olga had demanded that they should not be present at the private family event, and then turned right around and forgot to hire the security personnel.

It was December fifteenth, when Hilda Gertrude Pataki was laid to rest in Rosedale Cemetery, on 73rd Street, off of Glendale Drive, right next to her mother, Miriam Hope Reynolds Pataki. The sun was shining brightly in the clear blue sky on the Wednesday afternoon, without even a hint of a cloud in the sky. The sun went even so far as to actually warm the cooled autumn air that surrounded the cemetery.

It was mocking her, Helga knew it was mocking her.

Phoebe and Sid sat by her side throughout the whole process, and she was sure that throughout the whole process, her facial expression had not moved even once, even though Olga's was constantly crumbling and rebuilding itself the whole time. Helga was barely even aware of her surroundings, she was barely thinking. She had cried herself dry and presently had no more tears left to cry, she could not feel her fingers, or her toes, and did not even know how she got to the cemetery.

To put it simply, Helga was numb.

She watched as the snow white casket began its slow descent into the dark barren ground, and knowing whatever speck of salvation or sanity that she had was now gone, and had disappeared with Hilda.

Damn, Helga thought vaguely in the back of her mind, as she watched Olga break down in another one of her 'sobbing episodes', I need a cigarette.

Everyone had to die someday; Helga just chose her poison more carefully than others.

(Y/L)

Nope, I don't own Alexander Pope's quote and I still don't own Hey Arnold! I do own YL, though... Point for me... I know... Thank you Jaded Angel, Demile, Shadow Goddess Akhet, Bleeding in Vein, Drucilla Black, TrinityKitty, Novasenshi, Xdattax, OyoaOverson, Cmaca, Garlic Blanket, Animefrek03,Yzibella, The Moonlite's Shadow, Fire Dolphin, XxXCocoPuffXxX, Twoc, and Gyrlfrend for your wonder reviews, they are the reason why after two months I was finally back to write!

I could you that I couldn't write because I had AP Testing, my SATs, and AHS to work on for the last two months, but I know you wouldn't believe me... so just believe that this chapter does exist... a chapter that is probably littered with so many mistakes that I did not pick, but will clean up asap... Oh, and prepare yourself, 'cause now, things are going to get a lot worse before they can get better.

PS:

Demile, Yea, I knew but I wanted Mr. And Mrs. Heyerdahl to have different names and be presented just a smidgen differently and come from different places... well actually I only wanted Mrs. Heyerdahl to come from a different place.

Jaded Angel, Where exactly is chapter 17 of Dark Salvation... hmm? You have me in complete suspense.

OyoaOverson, Await no more!

Yzibella, Why yes, yes I am evil.

Gyrlfrend, Here you go... hope you enjoy...

Next Chapter: The Breaking Point of Lying

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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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