Well this is the end. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Thanks for everything!

They say you don't know what you have until it's gone. He didn't know about that, and he hoped he would never found out. His mind couldn't conceive, he heart couldn't reconcile a Helga-less existence. The world couldn't spin without her here—how could it when he was sure his world would stop? She burrowed into his psyche when they were three and there was no way she was ever getting out. The little spitfire came in and inundated every aspect of his life. She made it better. She made him better. He finally understood why he cared so much—it wasn't guilt or concern for his friend. It was more than that, deeper than that. He loves her. Not just the person that she let everyone see but the quiet her. The her that put others first, the sensitive her that was afraid of getting hurt; the strong and courageous her that stepped in front of a gun to save his life. He rushed out the door making his way to the hospital with Phoebe in tow and prayed that he wasn't too late.

Bob Pataki looked on with a heavy heart as he watched his oldest daughter leave her sister's room. She was full on blubbering, so distraught she couldn't form sentences. His heart broke a little as he watched her run into her mother's comforting arms, Miriam gently rocking the inconsolable girl. He and Miriam locked eyes for a moment as she gestured towards Helga's room.

He was the last one, he knew. He had to do this, but he couldn't. He just didn't know how to say goodbye to his baby girl. He knew the only thing keeping her alive was the machines, he knew there was no brain activity, but every day he hoped one day he'd go to her room and she would be yelling at the nurses or trying to run away.

He knew how to do one thing well—hide his feelings. He was a master at painting a picture, of performing, hoping no one lifted the curtains and would really see the disappointingly weak creature he really was: the damaged, failure of a man who was a horrible husband and father. Helga could always see through his charade, and it scared him. When he called her Olga to remind her of who she should be, she responded by calling him Bob, reminding him that he didn't deserve to be called her father. It hurt him more than he could ever say and she was right every time.

He stood by the doorway at first, too scared to be close to her. She looked so fragile in that bed, so broken. It was his job to protect her and he failed, just like he failed at everything. "I…I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I know I wasn't the best father, but I want you to know it was a privilege being yours. I wish I could have been better."

He gave her a weak smile, swallowing the emotion that constricted his throat. He moved closer to her now. "I love you so much little lady." Looking at her now was becoming unbearable. Holding her in his arms for a minute he let her go rushing out of the room. He wished he knew what was keeping her from opening her eyes, because he would fight whatever it was if it meant she would come back.

Helga was living in a nightmare. She tried to scream but no sound came out, tried to run but forgot how to. Her legs didn't work, she just felt herself getting dragged away from the light. She watched it helplessly until it dimmed and pain was back. She touched her side gently and felt the sticky substance on her dress, which was now darkened by the her hands, her eyes widened when she saw what was pooling on her fingers-blood.

The scenery changed and she was right back at her school in an empty hallway. Looking down she found she was wearing her black skinny jeans, white shirt and tan leather jacket, her pink Chucks providing the only splash of color on her otherwise neutral toned outfit. Her hands were clutching the straps of her book bag when something compelled her forward. Her eyes widened when she got closer.

This made no sense, this couldn't be—her heart was pounding the closer she got to him. She could feel his heart speed up as well.

There stood Sid, their former friend, who was sent into a home for his extreme paranoia and OCD holding a gun to Arnold's temple. She crept closer, hoping he wouldn't notice, hoping she could get there in time.

"You got some nerve thinking you're the hero Arnold," he said trembling as he held the cold gun in his hand. "You helped everyone—Phoebe, Gerald, those crazies you live with, but you couldn't help me. Hell, you even help Helga and everyone knows you hate her."

Arnold held up his hands, hoping he could get through to the disturbed boy. "Sid, listen to me. Whatever happened, I promise this won't make it better." Arnold tried to keep the worry from his tone but his words still came out shaky.

"No! I don't want your fucking help now. It's too late! I asked you for advice and you left me there. I told you I couldn't keep living like this. I told you about my mother." Pressing the gun deeper into Arnold's skull he continued. "Do you know what she did to me every night? What she made me do?" He was in tears as this point. "I didn't want to. I knew it was so wrong but I couldn't stop it. No matter how wrong it was, no matter how much I cringed when she touched me, it still happened."

Arnold gulped immediately feeling sad for Sid. He could see he didn't want to do this. Sid shook his head, but kept the gun steady. "I just want the pain to go away."

Helga was close enough to knock the gun away from Sid. She realized the moment Arnold saw her. She saw his eyes widen, silently begging her to turn around, but she ignored that. They were getting out of this together. Helga punched Sid in the neck, startling the boy for a second. "I should have known you would show up."

Arnold tried to keep his hands up, tried to wordlessly beg Helga to leave him here. "She won't say anything Sid, please just let her leave."

"I can't. You know I can't Arnold. You know your bitch would do anything for you." He was practically growling now. "All I ever wanted was someone to watch over me, someone to protect me the way you're protecting her." Sid moved the gun on Helga now as Arnold shifted to put his body in front of hers. "She's going to die just like my mother did."

He didn't know how it happened. He was powerless to stop it. Sid moved the gun back to Arnold's head and Helga jumped from behind him, tousling with the broken boy until he squeezed the trigger, shooting her in her left side, a few inches below her ribs. The bullet went straight through her piercing one of her kidneys. Watching Helga writhe on the ground in agony, a moment of clarity passed through the confused boy. He realized what he had done, mumbled his apologies, dropped the gun and ran, leaving a distraught Arnold holding Helga in the hallway.

END OF FLASHBACK

She was back on the decaying floor of her once magical place now concentrating on a voice in the distance. Focusing all her attention she listened to it intently. "Hold on Arnold," she murmured, a little weakened but still determined. "I'm coming back to you."

Arnold rushed past Miriam and Olga, thankful they didn't see him. Now he only hoped Phoebe could distract Mr, Pataki long enough for him to slip into Helga's room unnoticed.

He stood closer to her, heart racing from the anxiety of possibly getting caught. He hated that she was here, pinned in this place hooked up to machines. She deserved so much better. He wished he could take her away from this place. Sitting in her bed he took her hand, grazing his thumb across her knuckles. He was finally ready to tell her what he should have told her a long time ago.

"I'm the wandering man Helga."

He smiled imagining how confused her face would be if she were awake. How she would put her hands on her hips and tell him to just spit it out already.

"Remember that story we were supposed to start in English? Well, I finally did. I can't even remember the title, something about a wandering man, but I remember the story.

It was about this man. The love of his life died in his arms and he carried her around telling anyone who tried to take her away that they would be killing him as well. His entire existence was gone, and if she wasn't close he had no reason to live. He wandered around for hours, never letting her go. The townspeople were offended. They said the man snapped; that he was desecrating her corpse. Anyway, they cornered him into this alley, keeping him there until the authorities arrived. The sheriff then ripped the dead woman from his arms. True to his word the man's heart stopped beating as soon as they took her away."

He chuckled carding a nervous head through his unruly blond hair.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is…"

He stopped when he heard Bob Pataki speaking softly outside her door. He must have been talking to Helga's doctor. Shit. He knew what he was planning to do. Realizing he had to stop the man somehow Arnold ran over to the door, locking it. Looking around he found the small nightstand, threw everything off, tilted it and wedged it under the doorknob, trying to ensure they couldn't come in and kill Helga before she had the chance to wake up.

He went back over towards her and sat down. "I don't work without you." He sniffled and drew a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. "I'm not good with this. I'm not good with saying how I feel…" He kept hearing Mr. Pataki pound at the door, furiously rattling the handle while shouting obscenities, but he didn't care. This had to be said. "There's no combination of words that I can say to express how much you mean to me." Leaning forward he pressed a hard kiss to her chapped lips. "I love you Helga Pataki. Always have, always will."

He placed his forehead on hears for a minute, trying to memorize every crevice of her face, every detail, every feature. He tried to soak in her scent, feel her skin against his, remember how his heart raced when she was close. He wanted it all etched in his mind just as it was etched in his heart. He was lost in his own world, never hearing the door open or the furniture scuff the floor as it moved away from the door. He didn't hear the security officers shuffle over but he felt them pulling him away from her.

He was holding onto her hand, tighter now as the security guard tried to pry their hands apart, finger by finger. Arnold let go suddenly shocked when he felt her hand squeeze his back. "Don't do this. She's going to wake up. She just squeezed my hand. I felt it."

"Arnold, it was just an involuntary movement," Phoebe chirped from behind him. Without looking he could tell she was crying. In fact there wasn't a dry eye in the room.

"No!" He shook trying to break free from the guard's hold as he watched her doctor walk in, the hospital chaplain following him. "Please don't do this. She's going to wake up. I can feel it." Arnold was practically convulsing trying to get back to her.

When he heard the chaplain begin his prayer, his body went limp.

He felt his heartbeat slow and he let out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding when he watched her eyelids flutter open. The chaplain stopped and stared at the doctor, the Patakis and finally Arnold. The whole room was silent. "How's that for a miracle," the chaplain shouted after saying a quick prayer and exiting the room.

Her eyes surveyed the scene as she tried to process whether this was real or another lucid dream. Her doctor stood, gobsmacked, as he heard the girl call out to someone. Her voice was so weak from misuse that he could barely make out what she was saying but Arnold heard her as he pushed away from the guards, finally free from their hold.

She looked up at the boy with glossy sea green eyes and tentatively touched his cheek which in turn made him hold her hand to his face and close his eyes. He relished in her touch, happy to see her expressive eyes look into his. "Arnold? Is it really you?"
He was frozen. He pictured this moment a million times, dreamed of it even. Now that it was here, he didn't know what to do. Blinking a few times he leaned in closer, his face hovering over hers. "It's me. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

Helga smiled at him and kept looking in his eyes. This was her Arnold, she could see it in his eyes. She always found comfort in them. "Good. Because I love you."

He wore an ear splitting grin at her admission, never hearing words that sounded so sweet. "I love you too."