So begins the fluff. I love fluff. I think about short little snippets of fluff that I could turn into fanfiction while I am work every day. The HA fluff begins here. And it only get fluffier. This is also the angstiest chapter.

But Helga is a very strong character. I wish I had her strength.

This chapter is not much longer than the rest, but it is longer. Yay. And like I said yesterday, as I wrote this one it became my favorite...and then as I wrote the next it became my new favorite. And I just hope you like reading them half as much as I enjoyed writing them, even if they lack real writing talent. :D

Anywho, I do not own these characters or this show. Craig does, and he's a genius. Love you, Craig...and your characters.

Chapter 3 Miserable

"Alright Helga, old girl, get a hold of yourself," the young girl warned herself as she sat down unsteadily on her bed. She was still in shock, but tears were very near the surface. So she had made a smartass remark to Big Bob...how was that any different from any other day of their lives? How had it merited a solid backhand?

Helga gently felt her right cheek, which was still sore from the blow minutes before. The area felt tender and she wondered if it would bruise.

Huh, would serve the big jerk right if it did. She thought 'd go to jail for child abuse and waste the rest of his days as some guy named Bubba's girlfriend...and she and Miriam would be broke and have to live on the , she fell off her bike. That's what happened. Smacked right into a mailbox.

It was Thursday and she had just gotten back from her weekly psych appointment. Dr. Bliss and she had made some major progress with her deep seeded anger towards her family. And what was better, she was supposed to meet Arnold at his house to work on their science project after dinner.

It was supposed to be a great day.

Helga supposed it was her fault anyway. Why did she have to lie and tell her father she was going to Arnold's to blab all about her therapy and how crappy her family was just to be sassy? Why did she have to take it further and defend Arnold when Big Bob had called him a pathetic little orphan boy?

After the shocking blow and absolute ban to go anywhere near the weird headed boy by her father, she had screamed that she hated him and ran straight to her room.

One step forward, two steps back. That was the way her life worked. Why had she thought it would be any different today?

Helga wasn't sure how long she just sat numbly on the edge of her bed, listening to the noises a floor below her. Big Bob stuffing his big mouth with something crunchy while watching some stupid game on TV and Miriam making a second and then a third smoothie before passing out with definite thump at the kitchen table. It was such a normal afternoon, or was it evening now... at the Pataki residence, so why did she feel more trapped then ever?

She had just realized that her other leg was numb when she heard a very familiar voice downstairs.

"...was just wondering if Helga was okay..."

Big Bob's grouchy voice boomed over the voice of Helga's beloved, stopping any other conversation, "Why would she not be okay? My Olga's just fine, and it's none of your damned business!" he yelled.

Helga listened in dumb horror as her father yelled at Arnold, while Arnold tried to calmly explain that they had a project to work on and would it be okay if he could just ask her a few questions.

It was only when the boy was rudely turned out of her house that tears began to fall from Helga's eyes. True tears, and not for herself. She deserved what she got. Arnold did not. He was kindness, caring, and gentility personified. He was the sunshine in her dark corner. He was the hope of a wonderful day. And he had just been turned out of the most unworthy of houses to contain his presence like he was so much garbage from the street.

Helga shook with pent up rage that threatened to overtake her as big fat tears flowed in torrents from her eyes. Life sucks and then you die. Life sucked for her and she would die. But Arnold deserved more. Arnold deserved all the wonderful things life could offer. If she could, she would have given up all of her happiness that would ever come just to undo what was just done in her downstairs entryway.

Helga prayed that Big Bob would leave her alone and not bother her about Arnold's appearance because she was sure she would wrap her bony hands around his thick neck and kill him.

And then it hit her.

Arnold had come to her house to see if she was okay. They had arranged a time to meet and when she had not shown up he had been worried. Helga knew Arnold did not particularly like her father or her family in general. She knew that he knew what a messed up bunch the Patakis were. But he had come over anyway, knowing he would not be welcome. He had come to check on her. He wanted to see her.

Now the tears flowed with a different taste and rhythm. If she had had the energy to move, Helga would have thrown open her closet door and groveled in front of her homemade shrine, curling into herself with untapped joy that was sure to explode within her given any amount of relief from her own self control. Instead, she just sat in the dark by herself and felt the heat of her tears warm her face, then cool it as they continued their travel and dropped into her lap.

A tap sounded at her window and Helga fell backwards off the edge of her bed.

When she got back to her knees and peeked over the bed, grumbling, the figure at her window nearly caused her to fall back to the floor.

"Helga?" Arnold called softly from the fire escape outside.

The girl was so shocked she just stared for several long moments before the boy outside gave her a really weird look. "Helga...did you hit your head again?" he whispered hoarsely through the glass.

The inquiry brought Helga out of her stupor and she crawled across her bed to open the window and let him in on the other side. "What are you doing here, football head? If Big Bob catches you here he'll kill you!" she hissed at him once he had perched himself on the far edge of her bed.

The boy shrugged indifferently. "I don't care. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It's not like you to miss a project like that..." he said shyly, "...so I thought you might be hurt...or in trouble..." The blond boy finally looked up from his folded hands to see her for the first time.

Helga realized she probably looked terrible. A blush rising instantly to her cheeks, she tried her best to straighten her pig tails and clothing while he eyed her with concern. "It's nothing Arnold, just pissed off Big Bob a little...lost track of the time or I would have...called you...maybe," she added in for good measure.

She almost decided to get irritated at the boy when he didn't seem to notice her little quip against him when he brought his hand up to her cheek. "You've been crying..." he mumbled, wiping the stains away from her skin. His gaze stayed soft until he absentmindedly tried to wipe her other cheek and she winced, causing his brow to harden into a furrow.

"Helga, did he hit you?" he asked seriously.

Panic spread through the girl as she remembered the possible outcome of the truth. "No no no! I fell off my bike on the way home from...uh..." Crap, she wasn't supposed to tell anyone about her meetings with Dr. Bliss! Think Helga, think!

The furrow softened again and Arnold took both of her hands into his. "Helga," he said softly, "You can tell me anything. I won't tell if you don't want me to." A promise lurked in those words and his hands were so warm against her own. Against her will, Helga burst into tears again.

And she spilled the beans. All of them.

It was the FTI incident all over again, only more. She told him about when they first met, all of her secret plots against his crushes, which girls she had told, she told him everything. And when she was finished she put a quivering finger to his mouth. "And I know how you feel...so please don't say anything. And if you want you can forget. But I won't take it back this time..." she whispered and dropped her eyes to the joined hands resting on her knees, waiting on them to be removed from her grasp and disappear once again out the window.

But they didn't disappear. A gentle squeeze caused her to look back up at the golden haired boy whom she loved. He was smiling softly. "That means a lot to me, Helga," he murmured. Arnold opened his mouth to speak again, but a sharp rap sounded at Helga's door and the children had to quickly sweep the boy out the window and into the night once again.

Someone said they were glad that I kept the characters well...in character back in the first chapter. I hope I am still succeeding in that venue, and I hope that I continue that sentiment in the last three chapters. Because they are in deep and uncharted waters, you could say.

I personally believe that if Craig says that Arnold and Helga are meant for each other, then by golly, that's canon. Even if it was never actually created.

Thanks for reading this far. Reviews and critiques are appreciated.