Ghost in the Night
A Hey Arnold FanFic
Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold and make no attempt to profit from it. All characters belong to Craig Bartlett, who is a genius!
Special thanks to Anonymous Latina, MidniteRaine (always enjoy your feedback), loonytunecrazy, Kim, SandraPullman-Pataki (sorry for the delay, I didn't mean to) and Jilly. I thank you all for your reviews; you definitely keep this story going.
Chapter Six: The Past Pain
The tension in the room was thick enough you could cut it with a knife as Helga and Arnold ate in near silence. They had mumbled greetings, ones that Arnold found hard to even remember now as he sat with the plate in front of him empty, and the entree not lasting long on a hungry stomach. The wine bottle next to them had long ago been opened, but neither had tasted a drop, something that was worrying Arnold greatly. He wanted to down the bottle completely as he watched her eat cautiously, waiting for him to say something. But as she finished the last of her entree they had hardly spoken a word as Arnold made his way to the kitchen bench and began to put the toppings on the pizza.
Helga watched contentedly as Arnold left her; reaching for the bottle, she poured the deep red liquid into her glass and drank it. The burning in her throat was minimal, a good sign that he had chosen wisely. It began to soothe her body and relieve the stress her mind was under. He hadn't mentioned anything yet, but she knew better than to ask. Instead of remaining at the table, a strange and bizarre thought caught her mind; walking to the bench, she joined Arnold and began helping him place the last of the toppings on the pizza bases. She had felt him tense up but relax as he saw that she wasn't trying to kill him.
"So, how's your next book coming along?" Arnold asked, trying to keep his mind on the task before him.
It was no secret, at least to those who knew her, that Helga G. Pataki was an author, and one of the more critically acclaimed authors of the last century. Her stories had changed a generation of lives around; her hope and love spilled into her pages, exciting her audiences of all ages. But her next series had begun to focus on a more human emotion of hatred and anger in dystopian society. Her next book was of course eagerly anticipated by man, woman and child alike.
"Yeah it's alright I suppose; publishers always expect you to have it done in a certain amount of time, but I always love having to remind them of who the boss is most of the time," she grinned, earning a wry smile from Arnold.
"Who would have thought though; after being the bully in high school, you would write romantic adventure stories."
"Well our English teacher did apparently," she smiled softly as she continued placing the toppings on the bases.
Arnold laughed softly before the awkwardness fell back in around them. Ham, pineapple, cheese, tomato, and more meats…It was nearly complete, save for the basil. Reaching over to the bowl, Arnold's hand felt for the leafy herb to finish the job. But something touched him that he was not expecting; eyes travelling up her hand and arm to the blushing face of Helga, Arnold felt his face flush crimson. Her touch was so soft, so gentle and just as he had remembered it. Both of them pulled away, forgetting to add the basil to the pizza and instead tried to avoid facing each other.
Helga quickly topped the pizza and placed it into the oven; Arnold returned to his seat, waiting for Helga to join him. Expecting to see her turn away or avoid him, she sat down with a small smile on her face, something Arnold had not seen in a long time.
"Helga, I'm…" he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
"You're what Arnold, sorry for touching my hand?" she grinned at seeing his obvious discomfort.
Blushing red once more, Arnold tried to avoid her gaze. "Arnold, we're adults; you don't need to apologise for touching my hand."
"But I shouldn't have," he whispered, causing Helga to become pale.
Looking into her eyes, Arnold couldn't help but feel sad at what he saw; hurt, loss and rejection were fighting their way through her eyes, sending chills and shivers down his spine, unable to focus or feel what his hurt once was. She had betrayed him, but there was something about the look in her eyes that made him regret what he had done. She must understand what it did to me; I can't stand to look at her, Arnold thought.
"Helga, we need to talk."
Helga's heart dropped; plummeting into the pit of her stomach was not adequate to explain how much hurt and pain she felt at hearing those words. It was the same words she had dreaded to hear for the last few years, but now even after she had anticipated and thought she knew how to combat it, they still left her hollow, as if she were watching from afar and unable to move or think.
"I can't keep doing this; every time I see you I want to be with you; I want to hold you, touch you…but I can't," Arnold mumbled, his heart dropping as he saw her face.
"Maybe if I knew why," Helga began, but was cut off by Arnold's hand.
"You know well enough," he coldly replied.
"But I don't Arnold; what was it I did to make you hate me?" she asked strongly, regaining some of her usual confidence.
Arnold look at her carefully for a moment, waiting for her to say she knew what made him this way, why every aching second without her stung him like a knife in his chest, why he could never be with her because of what she had done…but only silence greeted his wait. She could be tricking him; it wasn't the first time she had pulled something like this on him. But as Arnold looked into her eyes, he saw nothing but confusion; she doesn't know, he thought. Taking a deep breath, Arnold looked her in the eye and rolled back his sleeves, his glass of wine ready.
"I was confident you did; but I guess it has been a long time for both of us. It all started a week before Gerald and Phoebe's fifth anniversary together as a couple…"
Time was never of the essence with her and as I watched the clouds slowly begin to descend upon the rooftop of Sunset Arms, there was something about the sudden chill in the air that caught my attention. I had never noticed how wonderful this rooftop was when it rained; I appreciated the sunlit days spent up here after swimming with Gerald or watching the stars explode into the night sky one by one after the night had fallen upon me, but I had never truly stopped to feel and experience the rain. My sight grew darker still as I waited my watch beeping as it signalled the arrival of five pm.
The last few months had been amazing; school had ended, my girlfriend was magnificent and life was where it needed to be. Gerald and I had started our bar; it was strange and weird at first, but now that I've got the hang of it, I am thoroughly enjoying it. Needless to say though, today was no ordinary day. As I now stand atop this rooftop, I had concealed in my pocket something precious, something so magical and dazzling that it would surely leave Helga speechless.
Unbeknownst to Phoebe or Gerald, I had managed to scrape together more than enough from the earnings at the bar to buy something I didn't think I would be buying for a while; in my pocket and held in a secure case was an engagement ring. I know we hadn't talked about it, but it felt right; we knew it would be time. My heart raced at what I should say, how I should do it and how I should feel. I had asked a few people how they had proposed and each time they gave me a small smile as if they knew what I was thinking. They had told me I would know when the time was right. At the time I didn't; but now as I stood here in the wind, I knew what they meant.
Wrapping my fingers around the box, the clouds above converged and began to rain; smashing against my face, pain shot through my suddenly numb limbs. She had to be coming; she said she would. But she had never been this late before…ever. Panic began to grow in my heart; maybe she was hurt? Maybe she had been injured? Maybe she wasn't coming at all. A dead weight in my chest started the sinking feeling; I had done something to her, so she wasn't going to come.
Suddenly, out of the rain and gloom of the day there she was; you walked towards me, your face downcast, but a small glimmer of hope still resting in your eyes. You seemed happy but I knew better than most that you were deeply upset.
"Helga, are you okay?" I asked, sensing your pain beneath your facade.
"Arnold, I want to break up."
If I had ever experienced something so devastating this it would not compare; had I felt something so heart breaking I had not lived and had I not loved I would have fallen upon the rocks that had now become my cracked and decimated heart.
"Why," I tried to say aloud but felt come out more like a squeak. It wasn't even a question; it was nothing but a want.
"It's not you Arnold; I love you but…"
"There's someone else isn't there?" I asked, my head starting to spin. Anger surged through my veins, the boiling fury spreading through my body like wild fire.
For a moment I thought she was trying to find a way of telling me I was wrong as she stopped and started numerous times; but upon feeling the frenzying wind on my face, I knew I had caught onto it.
"After everything we went through; forget it Helga, I'm gone," I spat before running away from her, her screams useless against the numb feeling I held in my heart. Before I could run back after running for what felt like hours on end, the rain had smashed into my eyes, blinding me as I finally took notice of where I was; an old green bar stood before me, the doors brown and closed, but a smell of relief echoing from it, so without thinking twice I took a step in and felt my heart begin to burst as I collapsed onto the floor, tears streaking down my face…
Helga looked at Arnold cautiously; he seemed far more touchy than usual. She tried to look at him, but he kept avoiding her gaze, afraid that even the slightest touch with her would cause him considerable pain. This wasn't the Arnold she once knew sitting before her; this one was something more, or something less than he once was. Taking a sip of her wine, Helga heard the door to the apartment open, the voices of Gerald and Phoebe drifting towards them as they joined the two at the table, unaware of what they had just come in upon.
Arnold removed himself from the table and headed for the oven; Helga sighed deeply as Gerald poured himself a glass of wine, pouring one also for Phoebe as she removed the hair tie and let her hair down. Coming back to the table with the freshly cooked pizzas, Arnold resumed his sudden silence as they ate, occasionally talking and muttering every now about how good the pizza was. Helga though pulled Phoebe close to her and began to talk.
"Helga, I thought you two would have sorted out things by now?" Phoebe whispered, unable to be heard by Gerald or Arnold who suddenly took a keen interest in the latest basketball standings.
"He told me about the break up, but something isn't right about it," Helga muttered, taking another sip from the wine glass.
"What do you mean?"
"It seems messed up; the story he told me was so different to what happened."
"What do you mean; how different was his story?" Phoebe asked.
"Very; you would know better than anyone what happened Phebs. He claimed I cheated on him with some other guy."
"Have you tried telling him what really happened?"
Helga shook her head, earning a sigh from Phoebe. "You should," she whispered softly.
"Phoebe, you do it."
Knowing she had no other choice, Phoebe nudged Gerald, breaking Arnold's focus on him. Taking a deep breath, Phoebe tried to calm her racing heart down.
"Arnold, we need to talk. I think you deserve to know what really happened that night," said Phoebe calmly.
"Phoebe, what do you-"
"Your memory Arnold; it's not the best it could be right now," she said gently.
Arnold felt his anger burn; it had been steadily growing recently, but this sudden increase wasn't helping him. Looking her in the eye, Arnold wanted to do nothing more than yell at her and tell her off for suggesting his memory wasn't that good. He wasn't a vegetable; he could still think for himself. But perhaps now wasn't the best time.
"How would you know Phoebe? You weren't even there; anything Helga has told you will be just as biased…"
"Just as biased as yours football head," Helga spat angrily.
"Well at least I didn't shatter yours into a million pieces!" Arnold shouted as he stood up.
"At least I didn't leave you standing there holding your heart in your hands; judging by how well you got on with that girl after we broke up, I can't say I'm surprised!" Helga screamed, mimicking Arnold's glare into her eyes. Helga and Arnold began to lunge for the other.
"Enough!" Gerald yelled, grabbing a hold of Arnold while Phoebe latched onto Helga, halting any possible chance of lunging at each other. Restraining him to the chair, Arnold winced as Gerald twisted his arm. "Keep your cool here Shortman; I don't want to hurt you, but I won't have a fight breaking out just after lunch, especially in this apartment."
Glaring at him, Arnold felt the restraint removed, but didn't make for Helga. Likewise Helga relaxed as Phoebe released her hold of her arm. The two glared at each other as Phoebe looked to Gerald, a shrug from him earning a hit in the arm.
"So how do you know what really happened Phoebe?" Arnold asked as all warmth was removed from his voice.
"Because I was there," she replied.
Slowly both Helga and Arnold turned to Phoebe, the same look of shock and confusion plastered onto their faces. Gerald smirked then grabbed a hold of his glass, drinking it slowly as he tried to bet on who would talk first. Arnold looked like he would die of shock while Helga had gone red with embarrassment. Finally they found their voice.
"How did you see us when we didn't see you there?" Helga and Arnold said together, earning a sheepish glance from one another. The duo then glared angrily at one another before resuming their look at Phoebe.
"I'm skilled in many ways, and you two should know that better than anyone by now. I know what happened because I was watching the two of you on the rooftop. I'm going to tell you both what happened; if either of you two interrupts me I will ensure that the breaking of your arms will be the least of your concerns," she said sternly, causing both of them to shrink under her gaze. Neither of them wanted to find out what Phoebe would do to them if they dared to interrupt her, aside from breaking their arms.
"Now that we are clear about that, this is what happened…"
The sun shone brightly atop the rooftop of Sunset Arms as a young man with blonde hair and an unusually shaped head waited, his hands tucked into his jacket and eyes watering from the wind blowing into his face. He never wanted to stand here alone; he had experienced that cold lonely feeling often enough as a child. But fear of being alone wasn't what kept him standing here on the rooftop, arms fixed to his side in an attempt to keep himself warm from the blistering cold around him.
His eyes scanned the rooftop for any other sign of life; Arnold was waiting for a girl, one he had come to love and treasure beyond anything he could have ever imagined. But it had been a girl he would never have expected to fall for back in primary school; back then Helga was nothing more than a bully, a tormentor of Arnold and at best an acquaintance. But he had seen something in her, that special spark that convinced him she was more what she appeared. Underneath the tough facade was a fragile girl, one who wanted to love and be loved in return. And it was that girl he had found during high school; tucking away the golden heart shaped locket containing her picture, a gift she had given him last Christmas, Arnold knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was in love with her.
Tucked away in his pocket was a small box, containing what Arnold hoped would be the gift to surpass all others; a small engagement ring. He felt that it was time, he felt ready to be one with her. He knew she would have been waiting for this day for so long and after convincing her to come meet him up on the rooftop, she would have to wait no more. It was here they had started their dating and it only seemed fitting to Arnold that this would be the spot they would become engaged. He wanted to travel and provided she said yes, the travel would be the honeymoon, their chance to see the world and experience all that had come before them.
"Helga," Arnold smiled brightly as his eyes caught a hold of the blonde haired girl making her way towards him. Her pink bow tying her hair back and eyes glittering in the sunlight surrounding her, Arnold could feel her joy for him grow as she moved to him and kissed him lightly on the lips, her embrace warming him better than any drink or fire could ever do.
"So what was it that you wanted to see me about football head?" she smirked as she kissed his bemused smile repeatedly, stopping any chance of a word being said.
Smiling, Arnold removed the box from his pocket; bringing it between the two of them, Helga looked down at it, lost for words. Arnold grinned and took a small step backwards. Holding it in front of him, Arnold said the words he had rehearsed for days, the words he had been meaning to say for so long, and the words he had memorised in his heart.
"Helga Pataki, you are the most amazingly beautiful and most magnificent person to whom I have had the greatest pleasure of getting to know and love. But I ask you this now; will you make me the most honoured and luckiest man alive by giving me the honour of your hand in marriage?"
Arnold waited; he knew it would take a moment for it to sink in, so he didn't worry too much. Silence descended upon them; the air slowly ground to a halt, the chill gone as he awaited her answer. A single tear fell down her face; it wasn't what he had expected to see. She seemed to have lost all her confidence, all her charisma and all that made Helga who she was; no longer the woman, a child now stood before Arnold, afraid and unsure of what to do. Arnold couldn't take this.
"Will you marry me Helga?" he asked again.
Helga appeared to be on the verge of crying; trying to gain control of herself, Helga looked at Arnold, confusion written all over her face. "Arnold, I…I don't know…its come now when…I don't know if I can," she heard herself mutter, regretting the words as soon as they came out of her mouth.
Arnold was broken; words cannot begin to describe how he felt. Clutching it tightly in his hands, the box was returned to his pocket as his eyes burned into Helga's; no longer caring for what she said or did, Arnold left her without a word, trying to hold himself together. Helga screamed for him to stop but it was too late; watching him vanish from sight as he climbed down, Helga collapsed to her knees and began to cry, unable to understand why she had done that to Arnold of all people.
For what felt like hours she wept, the pain searing in her heart as her fingers fumbled for Phoebe's number; night time had just begun to descend when from out of the shadows of the rooftop she felt a soft hand on her shoulder, knowing full well that the hand belonged to her close friend Phoebe.
Arnold looked at Phoebe carefully as she finished her tale. As he thought about it, he still couldn't accept that this was what had happened exactly. It didn't make complete sense to him, but it seemed to fit. But it wasn't the whole truth and he knew it.
"Phoebe," he said as she took a sip of Gerald's drink, "If that is what happened, then why do I still know that she cheated on me with another guy?"
Phoebe looked at Arnold, but it was Gerald who spoke. "My man, I trust what Phoebe says; did you hear anything about Helga cheating on you during that explanation? Because I certainly didn't," Gerald spoke sternly.
Feeling as though she was now a child amongst adults, Helga looked up from her folded hands. "What makes you think I would ever cheat on you Arnold?" Helga whispered gently.
Taken back, Arnold shrunk back into his seat. "Because you told me."
Phoebe mumbled something into Gerald's ear before turning her attention to Arnold again. "Arnold, Helga never cheated on you; she loves you too much to ever consider doing something like that to you."
Arnold nodded, but felt he was slowly splitting apart. If she hadn't done that, why did he know in his heart she had? He needed to rest, he needed to try and understand what was going on. But Phoebe's last words had caught his attention. "Phoebe, don't you mean she loved me too much?"
At this Phoebe blushed red; Gerald gagged slightly on his drink as Helga looked at Arnold as though he had just shot her. "I don't have to stand for this football head," she mumbled before leaving the table and the apartment. Phoebe quickly followed after her as Gerald looked at Arnold carefully before smiling to himself.
"And here I thought you were dense with women."
A/N: Sorry for the short delay but I wanted this to be the best it could before giving you all the chance to read it. This hopefully answers some questions, but not everything is crystal clear yet. As always please R & R; I really do appreciate the time you take to let me know what you think of it. The next chapter should be up in the week; and a character from the past is going to make a return to Arnold's life…