Thanks for the reviews. I really appreciate them. Also, it goes without saying, but I don't own Hey Arnold and I don't own "Heaven," which is completely a song you should look up in youtube. Both versions are great, but I prefer the Reincarnation version. I'm a huge fan of jazz.

Also, like I said, this is really short. This will probably the last chapter, if not second to last.

"Y-You're Arnold. Same ol' Arnold," Gerald replied, "Same kid who likes to help everyone and look on the Brightside."

"Y-Yeah," Brainy nodded. "You're the kid who wants us to come together 'cause you know we can do it."

"You're the kid who gives great advice," Lila added.

"You're Arnold Shortman," Phoebe said, though she didn't sound as sure as the others.

"Am I?" Arnold muttered. "Honestly, guys…who am I without Helga G. Pataki?"

"…Who are you, Arnold Shortman?"

The World Ends With You

Never

So, as we lay, I reminisce on the day that we met; please, God, never let me forget.

Nujabes

Arnold P. Shortman (that was his name, right?) stared at the clouds through his skylight as he lay on his bed. His green eyes beheld the endless blue and, despite how vast and awesome it was, the sky was nothing compared to her eyes.

After the jazz club, the teenagers had gone their separate ways at Arnold's (are you sure?) request. Since then, the blond hadn't slept a wink. He stared out of his skylight until the black night turned blue, thinking about what Helga meant to him…and how much of him was actually Helga's doing.

He tried to think of all the significant moments in his life and how, more than likely, they wouldn't have happened if it weren't for Helga.

He tried to think of any moment where Helga's involvement hadn't made a difference.

He came up blank.

"Helga…" he whispered.

"Arnold," Helga groaned, clutching her head. She'd been in a bad mood all day and it was all Arnold's fault. The little idiot apparently hadn't gone to bed, and Helga still needed to talk to him.

In a moment of what was clearly insanity, Helga thought she'd heard Arnold singing the song she'd written. After a good night's (ha!) sleep, she realized how stupid that sounded. Unfortunately, since Arnold hadn't appeared in her dream the last evening, that could only mean one of two things.

One, Arnold never met her in her dreams and she really was insane, or…

Two, Arnold never went to sleep last night for some reason, and now she had to wait until he went to sleep to find out.

Helga was really tempted to stay home and sleep all day, hoping to catch Arnold in the event he finally slept during the day. But her mom had thus far put up with all her rituals with Arnold and refused to allow it. A bit peeved, but mostly overjoyed that Miriam sincerely cared about her and was definitely proving it, Helga had listened to her mother.

Immediately after turning towards the door with an, "You're right, mom," Miriam had bolted to Helga and crushed her lungs in a hug. Apparently, Miriam thought it was a bonding moment worth taking a picture of. Helga's cheeks flushed.

Better not to think on it. She could burn the picture later.

Helga huffed as she sat in her English class. Pfft, Dickens. No matter how good she was in class, she refused to listen to that dolt. The worst of the lot, he was.

She was just distracting herself again. Much as she was loathe to admit it, she needed to think about Arnold. She needed to figure out what she would do if Arnold did figure out what Helga wanted to hear. Would she move back? Would they get together? Was it worth it?

It had taken Arnold entirely too many years and her moving to feel prompted to really search for an answer. But was that partly her fault? She was always there waiting for him. Had she made herself too…stagnant? Too permanent in his life that he took her for granted?

As the school day finally came to a close, Helga ran home to find four letters addressed to her. One letter was from ever-faithful Phoebe, one from Lila, one from Arnold, and one from...Gerald?

Really?

Though Helga and Gerald long overcame their mutual hatred for each other, it was purely for their best friends' sakes. They had a mutual dislike of each other where they stayed out of each other's ways. As such, Helga had to assume whatever Gerald had to say, it was of dire importance.

Regardless, Helga opened Phoebe's letter first, smiling at the familiar writing.

Dear Helga,

As I've told you, Arnold is starting to realize how much he misses and needs you. He isn't as angry as always and he claims it's because of dreams he has where he sees and speaks to you. I'm glad his temper has finally cooled down, but I am worried. I think he may be stalking you out of desperation and is pretending to learn these new things about you from his dreams. It's entirely too convenient.

I mean, really? He talks to you in his dreams and you're really there? It sounds like some awful romantic comedy.

"Or a bad fan fiction," Helga muttered.

Anyway, I just wanted to see how my bestie was doing. I miss you too, you know? Before you were Arnold's obsession, you were—are—my best friend. Don't be a stranger. When are you visiting?

I'm okay! Gerald is a lovely boyfriend as always. He's also worried about Arnold, but he doesn't take me seriously on Arnold's obsession with you. He says I'm overreacting and I've got to believe a little more.

What about you? Do you think you're really seeing him in your dreams? If you are...well, I think that means he's your soul mate. Is that worth moving back for?

Well, get back to me when you can. I know we can text and email, but I like keeping the post office in business, so I prefer a letter.

Love,

Phoebe

Helga smiled then set the letter down on her desk. Trust Phoebe to consider the questions she'd been asking herself for a while. Helga set the letter aside and decided to open Lila's, wondering what her second best friend had to say. She frowned as she pulled out various pages with sickeningly sweet handwriting.

Helga!

I'm ever so happy that you wrote me back! I have so much to tell you! First of all:

Phoebe is a dirty, dirty liar.

Helga raised her eyebrow.

I know she's super skeptical about Arnold and his dreams, but I assure you; they are real! He's been able to tell us stuff he never would have known, even if he stalked you. Stuff about when you were younger and the schemes you pulled off.

Oh, I remember the time you begged me to be Juliet in the play to make out with him! It was ever so sweet, if a bit creepy.

And, honestly, everything about yours and Arnold's relationship is just ever so creepy! I mean that in a good way.

Helga snorted, wondering how "creepy" could equal "good."

You've both always had this odd relationship. Sometimes, Arnold would hear things and ask us if we'd heard anything and, immediately after, Phoebe would call me and say that you had a crisis. I know how you have a habit of screaming just ever so loud, but only Arnold can hear it from a distance.

You always spent your holidays together and had misadventures. It wasn't like the rest of us didn't have really fucking awful holidays (sorry about cursing!), but you two would always seek each other out, every time. It's like you two couldn't help it.

Just ever so much like how you always bumped into each other around the corner! No matter what, when neither of you expected it, you would bump into each other.

Helga, I'm going to be serious here. I grew up with princesses and princes and fairytales and happily ever afters. I grew up wishing for someone to sweep me off my feet, which is probably why I fell for Arnie.

Helga shuddered.

And a small part of me still loves Arnie, but he...well, yeah. Let's not think about that. Anyway, I realized soon enough that those fairytales and myths and love songs were never going to happen in real life.

And then I met you and Arnold and I saw what was going on and I realized something so profound, Helga, that it very nearly knocked me on my freaking ass.

That fairytale just wasn't for me. Being pretty and kind and sweet meant that I attracted the wrong guys, until Brainy finally got the balls to ask me out. But you...you being so abrasive and difficult and mean and nasty and lazy and just ever so much to fucking deal with—that was how it was done. Constantly testing someone to see if they could really be with you; showing them the worst so that when the best came out, they'd just fall in love with you over and over despite how ever so annoying you freaking are; being a challenge so men took you seriously.

Maybe the boys in grade school never understood. And they didn't until we got to high school and they saw what a bombshell you were, but Arnold always knew. He never knew he knew, but he did and he knew it so much and so well, Helga...

Arnold is your soul mate, Helga. I feel it in every mushy and sappy bone in my body and I know you feel it too, because when he tells you he loves you in your dreams you wake up crying.

Tears streamed down the blonde's cheeks as she continued reading, unaware of how observant Lila had always been.

I know Phoebe is only looking out for you because Arnold broke your heart once. I know you waited and waited for that answer you're so set on, but sweetie, I have a secret for you.

God, Helga, and this damn secret is so freaking obvious that you'll just die, Helga. You really will.

Helga, there is no answer.

Helga blinked through her tears, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. What? Hadn't Helga wanted Arnold to tell him who he was, really? What Helga meant to him outside of the girl who always stalked and loved him? How could there be no answer? What was the point of moving, then? Of those dreams; of suffering and crying; of worrying and worrying and worrying?

You search and search for something, hoping you'll find it, but eventually you search so long that you forget what you're looking for. You don't recognize it when you see it, because you've searched so hard and so long for something that's always been there. You're catching air in jar, Helga; trying so hard to obtain something that is already there, that's always been there.(i)

I know you're cynical, Helga. I know you're scared that moving back will all be for nothing and that Arnold won't change and you'll just be left waiting again.

But Helga, just because the air was always there doesn't mean getting the jar was an easy task.

I hope you think on this, Helga. Please write back.

With Love,

Lila lessthanthree

Helga wiped her tears away with her sleeves, staring at the page blankly. Was Lila right? Was Helga trying too hard to figure out something that was meant to figure itself out? Maybe it wasn't that Helga was too stagnant...maybe it was that Helga was too impatient, constantly wallowing in not having more with Arnold instead of appreciating what they did have and working on their friendship. Had Helga wanted a relationship so bad from him, that she neglected getting to know him as he grew up and changed? Helga frowned.

If she really thought about it, she'd learned more about Arnold these last few weeks in her dreams than she ever did in Hillwood. She was so dead set on an answer—on a romance or nothing—that she hadn't given her relationship with Arnold a chance to mature as they did.

She sighed, setting Lila's letter aside. She would need to reread it and really think about it. But she couldn't do it without crying right now, so hopefully Gerald would have something more uplifting to read.

Helga,

I'm going to be short and sweet here. Move back.

My man is going crazy without you. He's wondering who he is what he is and it's so damn obvious, but he doesn't see it.

He's Arnold Shortman. He's the guy who loves helping people and loves this bat-shit crazy girl who loves him more than life itself. Please, just tell him that so he can get his head out of his ass and see what's right in front of him.

I don't know if you guys really are seeing each other in your dreams, but crazier things have happened and I will support Arnold through everything.

Even if it means a whole lot more of you in my life.

I know that, deep down, you're an okay person who is actually really nice. I know it's hard for you to show it and, sister girl, I get it. Life hasn't been easy to you. But both you and Arnold need to get over your drama and just freaking live. Together, preferably. I don't know what your shrink told you, but moving was a stupid decision, Helga.

Life doesn't have to be that hard, Helga. Sometimes, in a relationship, you have to bend a little. You and Arnold have always been shit at that, but if you can do it now when you're dreaming of each other, then please do it in real life and stop being depressed together. Just be happy together.

Doi.

With some measure of affection,

Gerald

Helga shook her head, laughing. Was it really so obvious to everyone that they just needed to be together and let things be? Were Arnold and Helga the only ones who didn't see it? Helga smiled, recalling their first encounter.

She remembered mud and sadness and rain and crying; then, eyes as deep and green as the lushest Amazonian forest and the sweetest compliment—and the only attention—she'd ever received in her lonely life.

Finally, she opened Arnold's letter, surprised to find only three lines scratched hastily on the sheet.

Helga,

I love you. Come home.

Arnold

And it was really that simple. As simple as his compliment, as simple as the way she fell in love with him, as simple as Lila and Gerald and Arnold all made it seem—Helga felt an epiphany grasp her, the likes of which she'd never experienced before. This wasn't the realization that Shakespeare was a clever pervert; this wasn't the realization that she was now sixteen and had hormones and damn did she want to have sex; this was exactly what Lila had described.

A feeling of utter disbelief at how stupid Helga must've looked, futilely waving air into a jar when it was already there.

Fuck.

Days passed and Arnold grew more anxious. Helga had not appeared in his dreams and he never got a reply from her. When he'd asked Phoebe about her, the poor Asian girl shrugged sadly.

She hadn't gotten a letter back either.

Arnold was out of his mind, worried that he'd somehow fucked everything up and the girl he lived for was gone forever. Even though Lila smiled serenely and assured him that everything was okay, Arnold worried. Now, after writing and reading and rereading that notoriously short letter he'd sent, Arnold regretted not telling her everything.

He regretted not telling her that Arnold P. Shortman existed purely for Helga G. Pataki. He regretted not telling her that she shaped everything he was just as much as he shaped her and that he loved her for it. He regretted not telling her how he didn't regret a single day of their childhood because, goddamn, was she worth every annoying ass spitball.

All he could manage to write was "I love you," and he sincerely hoped she understood everything. But, she hadn't. She couldn't have.

Five days with no reply really didn't leave much to interpretation.

Helga was gone from his life. Gone from his dreams; and she left with his heart.

Fuck.

And so, with school only a week or so away, Arnold hid in his room again, ignoring his worried friends and family as he grieved over his own death.

How could Arnold be alive without Helga, after all?

"Arnold!"

Said boy jumped, sitting up in his bed. Unceremoniously, as he was wont to do, Phil threw Arnold's bedroom door open and smiled at the young man.

"I need a favor, Shortman."

Arnold grunted in reply.

"Great! We have a new boarder coming today. Says they'll be living with us for quite a while, so they'll have a lot of baggage. Unfortunately, your parents are working today and your grandma and I have to go shopping to restock the fridge since that bum Kokoschka stole all my darn food again. They'll be here shortly, so I need you to get them their key, take their stuff to their room, and give them a quick tour."

Arnold sighed, "Look, Grandpa, it's not that I wouldn't love to help—"

"Wonderful!" Phil interrupted, slamming the door shut.

The blond groaned, but resigned himself to helping the new boarder. He grabbed his towel and walked to the bathroom, hearing the front door slam as his grandpa ushered his grandma out the front door. He showered quickly, changed, then waited downstairs while reading a book.

Eventually, he shut the book. He couldn't get past the first sentence. No matter what, he always thought about—

Ding dong!

Arnold put the book aside and stood, making sure he was presentable. He grabbed the keys from the case, then walked to the door, opening the door with an asinine greeting.

But his mouth hung open as he stared at the person at the other side of his threshold.

"Hello, Arnold!" Lila Sawyer chirped.

"Lila? I...what?"

"My dad got a much better paying job back in Seattle, but I told him I couldn't possibly move now. He understood and is letting me live here, in the boarding house. Isn't that just ever so grand?"

Arnold nodded, a fake smile plastered to his face. For a second, he'd sincerely hoped that his grandpa had orchestrated it so that Helga was living here. He hoped that Helga had one more huge surprise before she moved onto surprising him throughout their marriage. He hoped life would work out in the one way he really needed it to work out.

How foolish.

Life only works out for people like Lila; people who really deserve it. Not people like Arnold, who squandered Helga's love for so long.

"Oh, I do hope the room we're renting has two beds, by the way," Lila suddenly commented.

Arnold nodded automatically, before his head snapped to attention. "What? What do you mean, 'we're'? Isn't your dad in Seattle?"

"Well, yes, but I couldn't afford to live on my own through college. I figured I might as well have a roommate now and get used to her, since we're definitely living together when we go to college!"

"W-Who's your roommate?" Arnold asked, more hopefully than he'd ever care to admit.

Lila smiled slyly and moved out of the way as a bashfully smiling Helga G. Pataki stepped out of a blue Honda Fit.

"Hey, Arnold," Helga whispered.

"Hey, Helga," Arnold breathed.

And with all the passion that can come from teenagers being dramatic idiots, Helga flung herself into Arnold's arms as Arnold jumped clear over his stoop, scooping the thin blonde as he pressed his lips desperately to hers. He didn't take notice of a smug Gerald stepping out of the car with a smiling Phoebe; he didn't notice Brainy stepping out and wrapping an arm around a grinning Lila; he didn't notice his grandparents' Packer sitting at the corner of the block, with both his grandparents leaning against it and smirking at him.

His lungs burned, but he didn't notice as he refused to release her lips. Fuck if he noticed anything but the way Helga suddenly made it much easier to breathe.

It was as if she was all the air he would ever need.

Fin

(i) I very much enjoyed a story called "Catching Air in a Jar" by point-of-tears. I totally stole this from her/him and all credit of this phrase goes to her/him. It is a Harry Potter story, so if you're into it, go read it. I assure you, reading the story just to read the moral at the end is one of the most worthwhile reading experiences you will have.

Done! Of course it had to end with Helga doing most of the thinking on this. I realized, as I rewatched all of "Hey, Arnold!", how freaking difficult Helga makes everything. Arnold may be a dolt, but much as Helga loves him, one moment of insecurity destroyed her and she couldn't move past that. She wonders why Arnold doesn't notice her, then punches Brainy in the face. Helga seemed like the sort of person who over-thinks and makes everything too complicated, while Arnold seemed like the sort of guy who overlooked the obvious all the time. Between the two of them, something as simple as love would be ignored. So, I decided Helga had to be the one to sort out her feelings first, as she fell in love first. There will be a (much shorter) epilogue that I hope to get out very soon. Thanks for reading and dealing with all my little tiffs. And yes, the epilogue will explain Phoebe's skepticism. I know she sort of seems like a villain here, but I assure you, it will all be explained and you'll love Phoebe again. Pinky Promise.