A/N: Hey guys! *Rubs back of neck sheepishly* Remember me? The writer who wanted to update frequently and consistently. Yah, that's me.

I wanna start by saying I'm sorry for not updating as much as I said I would. I tried, (Lyco is witness) but this chapter was hard for me to write. It took a lot out of me. Mostly because of Arnold's mental/emotional state.

To reach this point, I had to dig deeper then I've ever done with prose. With poetry, it's easier for me. All I do is type while bleeding. But with prose, I have to analyze why I'm bleeding. It was something I was trying to avoid to do, even though I knew it had to be done. And, when March 12th came, and the story "Not A Regular Day", Lyco told me that I found the emotion I was trying to find. I tried to write it, but the thing is that my finals for college were approaching and, well, I had to study for those. I finished my finals on Friday and wrote two drafts for beta reading on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Yeah, I know today is Sunday, but I stayed awake until I finished my third draft, and sent it early this morning.

Luckily this is my final draft for this chapter (as of now).

YAY: D I'm glad I can finally add a new chapter that is worth your long wait!

DISCLAIMER: I, darkangel1326, in no way, shape, or form, own Hey Arnold!

Now, without further ado…

Chapter 3: The Man Who Wouldn't Accept the Truth

By: ~darkangel1326

Approved and edited by: Lyco Rogue

"The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are." – Chauncey Depew

He wasn't going to believe it. He didn't want to. He kept going back to the street corner, looking at the skid marks from her car. Hearing the accident's sounds from the phone call. He closed his eyes and imagined how it happened.

She's gone. He thought painfully to himself.

She left his life just as quickly as she came into it.

But why did she do this to him? Didn't she see that he loved her? That he wanted to be with her, no matter the cost? Why did she leave? Why did she make him fall in love with her, and then leave him in the world alone?

He desperately wanted to release his anger and blame her. It was her fault. She was the one who did this to him. She was the girl that challenged his world, causing it to shatter to pieces with a simple touch. And, just as he was picking up the fragments, she vanished like yesterday's night sky.

He couldn't handle it. He loved her. He hated her. He wanted her here. He wanted to forget her. His mind was at a constant process of indecisiveness since she died. He was barely even himself nowadays. This past week had gone by in a blur, every day seeming as gray at the last. Until this day came with the morning sunrise.

It was her funeral today.

Arnold knew this day was coming, he knew ever since the doctor gave him her ribbon. The funeral loomed over him, like the dark skies that rained on Hillwood for the past week.

Even the sky is crying for her, he thought.

He didn't know what to do. He never liked funerals; they were always too sad to bear. The testimonials were the things he didn't want to face. All his friends would probably have a funny or touching moment they shared with Helga. But he didn't have any uplifting anecdotes. His last memory with her was hearing her die because of his phone.

The phone that's service was currently disconnected to prevent another tragedy it could cause.

No Arnold. It wasn't the phone…

Arnold sighed. It was my fault, he thought, for what may have been the millionth time since he got home from the hospital.

Arnold wasn't going to her funeral. He was too broken to see her. He didn't want to reminisce about her. He didn't want to believe she'd only be a memory.

A memory. The word caused his soul to crack a bit more.

"Hey, Arnold? What are you doing here, man? Don't you know what today is?" Gerald asked, appearing from the opposite side of the street.

Gerald noticed how Arnold was acting lately. Everyone's noticed Arnold, he thought to himself.

Gerald remembered the drive to the boarding house was the most silent it had ever , in the driver's seat, looking ahead of the dark road, while Phoebe, who was sitting on the passenger seat, had her arms around her, silently crying from the news. But, when Gerald looked at the driver's mirror, he saw Arnold, sitting stiffly against the seat, caressing the pink ribbon in his hands.

Arnold isolated himself from his friends until recently, but Gerald, having found Arnold on this street corner more than on one occasion, immediately learned what this place meant.

"Gerald, I just can't-" Arnold managed to say before his voice croaked, breaking Gerald away from his thoughts.

"Arnold, I feel bad for you and Phoebe. She was important to you guys. And, over the years, she and I became close too. I sympathize for you, and everything you're going through. But Phoebe is going to the funeral. She's going to say goodbye to her best friend, even though it hurts her. C'mon man, Helga wouldn't want you to be like this. We both know that's true."

Arnold sighed. He saw the reason in Gerald's point. But it didn't matter.

"Gerald, don't you get it? I killed her! If she hadn't picked up my pocket dial, she'd be getting ready to be the maid of honor at your wedding tomorrow instead of lying in that coffin and postponing the whole thing," He knew he should've accepted it, but he couldn't. Something didn't feel right.

Was he supposed to feel like this? Like she was still with him? Like she never left? Was it because he couldn't let her go? Or was it possible that she-

"Arnold," Gerald said, while grabbing Arnold's shoulders and shook him. "I know you feel guilty, man. But it's not your fault! Sometimes, Fate has other plans."

"But Gerald, this CAN'T be Fate's plan! Something HAS to have screwed up! Fate wanted us together! What was the point of me falling for her if-if" Arnold stopped, not able to utter the words.

Gerald released his grip on Arnold slightly, and gave him a sympathetic look. "Arnold, I know it's tough. I know you loved her. But, she's gone. Sometimes there's just a random chain of events that cause a tragedy. It's just... Fate. As much as it hurts, you have to move on. You have to accept that maybe you two weren't fated after all," Gerald said.

Arnold just gave Gerald a blank stare. Why couldn't he understand that when Helga died, part of him did too?

"What if I can't move on?" Arnold finally asked.

"You have to," Gerald said. He grabbed one of Arnold's arms and pulled him away from the street corner.

"Where are you taking me?" Arnold asked.

"To the funeral, so you can let her go," Gerald said.

Arnold stopped and held his ground while Gerald tugged at his arm, unable to get him to move forward. Gerald stopped, looked at Arnold and began pulling his collar, but Arnold kept his footing.

"You can't make me go, Gerald. I'm not going." Arnold firmly stated.

Gerald sighed but he didn't try to further argue with his friend. "At least promise me one thing."

Arnold looked at Gerald, cautiously. "What?"

"Leave this street corner. You're torturing yourself every time you come here. Just go home, Arnold. Stop trying to blame yourself for something that was fated to happen."

Arnold nodded stiffly and shifted his gaze to the concrete beneath his feet.

"Talk to you later, okay buddy?" Gerald said.

"Yah…talk to you later," Arnold said

They exchanged their usual handshake and went their separate ways; one headed to a funeral, the other avoiding it.

Arnold wandered away from the street corner, a desolate soul, and a man in black, aimlessly searching for a way to become healed. Or at least stitched back together.

Do I even deserve to be brought back together? He wasn't sure anymore. Did he deserve his soul mate to cure his injuries? Or was the torture of her death his true fate?

Arnold just wanted to close his eyes and pretend that this hadn't happened. He wished this hadn't happened. But he had to grow up. Sometimes, not everything had a bright side. Not every cloud had a silver lining.

She's gone. And she isn't coming back.

But why did she pick up her phone in the first place? This was the 21stcentury! Why didn't she have a Bluetooth? But then, he remembered…

It was two weeks ago, when Arnold told Helga he had something important to tell her when he got back. She was driving, on her way to work, and was using her Bluetooth.

"Won't you tell me?" Helga asked, pleadingly.

"Nope" Arnold replied quickly.

"Why not, Football Head?" she continued, pouting.

Arnold chuckled. Even on the phone, he could see her pouty lips.

"I want it to be a surprise," he answered, realizing how lame it sounded.

Much to his delight, Helga giggled. He loved her giggle.

"Okay, okay. I'll try to wait 'till you come-"

There was a silence.

"Helga?" he asked, thinking she was playing a joke on him once again.

More silence.

"Hellooooo? Helga? Are you there? Marco?" Arnold said, as he checked his phone.

The screen showed seconds were ticking by.

Stupid cell phone company, he thought. I knew I should've switched to-

He heard a click and then rustling.

"Arnold?"

He smiled.

"I'm still here, Marco," he answered.

Helga chuckled, remembering the 'Marco-Polo' game they played whenever a call dropped.

"Polo! Sorry 'bout that, my Bluetooth isn't working right now. I don't know why this piece of crap is acting up. I gotta buy a new one now, and I still have to pay for my rent-"

"Helga, I have an extra one. I could send it to you. That way you don't have to waste money on a new one," Arnold said.

"Thanks Arnold, but, it's okay, I'll just try to-"

"Seriously Helga, it's okay. You always send me stuff anyway; it's my turn to pay it forward."

Helga laughed. He was so cute.

"Well, if you insist, I guess I'll take it off your hands. But don't say I never did you any favors!"

He chuckled. "Whatever you say, Helga."

He slapped his forehead. He never sent her the headset. He brought it with him to give to her when he saw her, instead of sending it to her. All because he wanted to give it to her in person, instead of keeping his promise to her and just mailing it to begin with. …

But then again, she didn't HAVE to pick up. Why couldn't she just wait until he gave her the Bluetooth? Why did she have to pick up the phone while driving? Couldn't she have just parked somewhere first?

It's her fault too. A part of his mind said.

But another moral part of his mind, scolded this thought.

How can you blame her? She's dead.

The words cut him worse than fragments of frozen glass. She was dead. And he was putting the blame on her. He couldn't believe he let himself think, even for a second, that Helga was at fault.

What's wrong with me? He thought. Am I really this selfish?

He kicked a rock and watched it skid into the street as a car narrowly missed it.

Why didn't the driver move away faster? I mean, he probably wasn't distracted with anything. Couldn't he look in front of him, see that a car was still moving forward and just WAIT for it to pass? What was his deal? Didn't he think? Arnold said, letting these thoughts manifest inside his brain.

Until, a little voice whispered its thoughts.

That man is still in the hospital. He has two kids and a loving wife. They don't know if he's going to survive, or if he'll be paralyzed from the waist below.

Arnold blinked and instantly regretted his thoughts. Why am I so selfish? I'm thinking of my own problems when I should be thinking of everyone else's. That guy's family doesn't know if he'll live to see the next hour, Helga's gone, and here I am, trying to blame them for something that affected them.

But why did this have to happen to them, anyway? Helga was an amazing person, and she deserved to have a good life. And the driver did too. Why were they supposed to suffer? What kind of Just God did this?

Is God even Just? The world was a cruel place. Helga was a good person who had a family that rarely noticed her. The driver had a good life and was currently on the brink of life and death. Where was the justice in that?

It's God's fault.

A little voice whispered to him once more.

Arnold…it scolded.

He sighed and stopped trying to point fingers at people. Like his Grandpa always told him, "point a finger at someone, and three are always point back."

He walked to the bridge over the stream in the park and looked miserably at his reflection. He closed his eyes and remembered how he found Helga here every now and then in his youth. It was always after her parent's fought, or when Olga visited.

He opened his eyes and looked back at the stream flowing under him. He stared at his reflection and waited. He waited and waited and waited, but he never saw golden hair or a perfectly pink ribbon. And he never would.

He walked to a bench and sat down. He sighed and tried to stay calm.

Do I even deserve to be stitched together? He couldn't help but rethink.

As much as he thought the contrary, Arnold was Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. It wasn't too hard to do when Helga was alive, because she gave him temporary relief. He didn't notice how heavy his life was until she left his world. That day, almost a week ago, he felt the pressure from the planet double in size. And he was succumbing to it.

He wasn't sure anymore.

He looked at the bench, his surroundings, and realized where he was. It was the bench where Helga comforted him after Lila dumped him. It was the same bench their egg hatched under. Most importantly, it was at this bench, roughly ten years ago, where he told her he was leaving.

It was times like these that he missed what he'd never have again. He spent his entire week either on the street corner of the accident or his childhood room. But unlike times in his youth, his Grandpa never came into his room to give him anecdotal advice. He never would either.

His Grandma was the first to leave his life and his Grandpa left a few days later.

Arnold sighed. He had a great life here in Hillwood. He had loving grandparents and the friendship of the most amazing girl in the world. But he left, and lost this forever.

You never know what you have until you lose it; Arnold was learning this in the worst possible way.

He walked back to the boarding house. He opened the door to let a herd of animals run out.

"Arnold?" he heard his mother call him.

But Arnold didn't want to talk. He didn't want his mom to keep trying to cheer him up. He ignored her until her voice came closer.

"Arnold? Why haven't you picked up your phone? We were worried about you," Stella said to him.

Arnold, who had already begun climbing the stairs, turned his head slightly and spoke. "I didn't take it with me."

Stella blinked, and ventured further. "Why didn't you?"

Arnold sighed. "Why should I? So I could accidentally call and kill someone else?"

Stella looked up. Her son was having a hard time ever since the girl had died.

The one he loved, she reminded herself painfully. And the one who loved him.

Even though Stella and Helga didn't have much interaction with one another, when Stella saw the look on both of their faces at the airport, as they were about to face separation, she just knew. She knew they were in love.

Which made Helga's death more tragic.

Stella and Miles had been at the Boarding House, checking up on the property and making sure the Boarders were happy with the atmosphere. Gerald's dad, Martin, did the bookkeeping for them, since they still loved to travel the world. But, they typically visited Sunset Arms every 4 months since the deaths of Miles's mom and dad.

When Arnold walked in the house, the day of Helga's death, Stella's motherly instincts kicked in. Something was wrong, but she wasn't sure what it was. All she saw was Arnold, his eyes red and puffy with a dying gleam, clutching a familiar pink ribbon in his hand.

He didn't speak coherently for days. All he would mutter was "she can't be gone".

It was a week since the incident. Luckily, he spoke complete sentences now, but he didn't speak as often as Stella would like. And when he did, he would often speak sadly, blaming himself for something that was out of his power to control.

She heard him climb the stairs, and dragging his feet.

Hastily, she ran up the stairs, past his dejected form, blocking his room's entrance. Her son merely lifted his head, showing her a pair of eyes that were pained beyond his years.

"Arnold-"

"Look Mom, can we just not talk about it? I really don't want to," Arnold said, interrupting her.

"Arnold, you've been moping around for days. You barely eat, and barely speak. I'm worried, son. I'm worried about you," Stella said, as she reached out to him with a comforting hand.

Arnold tensed as her hand came closer, and she dropped it to her side.

"It's not healthy to blame yourself for something that isn't your fault," Stella said softy.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Arnold responded bitterly.

"Because it's true. Because, sometimes, what we think is our Fate, is actually just part of a bigger picture," she said, in a soothing, motherly tone.

She walked over to her son, embracing him and looked up at his eyes, causing her brown eyes to grow with concern. His emerald eyes were losing their innocence, replacing it with sorrow.

"Arnold-"

But he broke the embrace and ran past her, up the stairs to his room, and locked the door.

Arnold was trying to be alone. He wanted to think.

Fortunately for Arnold, his grandparents never rented his room, so everything was the same way he left it ten years ago. He went to his bed and lay there, looking at the clouds, drowning himself in his memories.

"Arnold?" there was a persistent tapping at his door. Arnold didn't want to answer. Then there was a shaking of the doorknob.

"Son, open the door!" It was his dad this time.

Arnold still didn't answer. Coming home was a bad idea. They wouldn't let him think. He had to get out of this mad house. He had to escape.

Arnold got up from his bed and climbed the stairs to reach the rooftop. He hastily went down the fire escape as noiseless as possible and then ran.

But he wasn't running from his parents. He was running from the truth. He was running from his problems. And he wasn't sure if he would ever stop running.

But he did stop.

He stopped at the stoop of a familiar blue house. He blinked. Somehow, this was the last place he wanted be, but the one place he needed to see.

Helga's House, he thought. He climbed a few steps and peeked in the window to the living room. Although the house was temporarily deserted since Helga's family went to her funeral, the atmosphere of her home was missing something. It was as if the walls lost a bit of color, or the air tasted less crisp. The Pataki's were missing something that could change the dull environment into a home once more.

Just as he found a bit of comfort knowing her family did not forget her death, he froze. There were boxes on the floor. Each one of them saying "Helga".

No, he thought. What are they doing? She's only been gone a week and they already have her stuff packed up?

Arnold was upset. His emotions were reaching their limit.

How was he the only one suffering? Why couldn't anyone understand? Gerald didn't understand why he couldn't let Helga go yet. Phoebe was letting her best friend go too quickly. His parents didn't understand he lost someone special. No one understood him.

She was dead. He felt alone. He kept trying to hold on to her memories while others tried to get him to let go and forget.

But don't you want to forget her too? This pain, this torment is going to keep haunting you here. She's everywhere. Her lingering remnants mark each part of this city with the ghost of her memory. A small voice said to him.

It was at that moment Arnold knew what he needed to do. He gathered his emotions, his last pieces of strength, and walked away from the house.

I have to get out of this city.

There he walked, hands forced in his pockets, head hung low. The broken man. The man who wouldn't accept Fate.

Was it really possible for his soul mate to leave him alone in life?

Arnold wasn't sure if he wanted an answer to that question.

A/N: I just want you all to know that this chapter is 8 pages long on Word. You know, 8 pages with a 0.7 margin around the page and Ariel font, size 10 font.

I think this is the longest chapter so far, which makes me look forward to the chapters that are supposed to be long...

Anyways, please tell me what you think! I will TRY to publish another chapter, but I have 6 days till Lyco goes on hiatus so *rolls up sleeves* yup this is going to be fun.

REVIEW THIS CHAPTER!

Please! I'll love you more with the passing days! ;D

PS Now that we've partially scratched the surface (and plot) of this fic, let the fun begin!