[A/N: Woohoo! I'm on a roll! Thank goodness for snow days. I could have definitely made this chapter long but I think I'm gonna cut it off here and start working on the next one instead. :) I hope you guys like it and please let me know what you think! It's really encouraging and I hope you aren't too bored with all of the build-up and exposition and what not. I promise, the metaphorical fecal matter WILL hit the fan VERY SOON.]

Present Day

"Detective Sullivan," One of the forensics specialists, Bernie, tapped Sullivan on the shoulder just as she was closing the Shortmans' apartment door. "I think you're gonna wanna check this out,"

Eyebrows raised in curiosity, Sullivan followed the man over to the kitchen.

Bernie crouched down to the floor and picked up a spray bottle that was sitting off to the side. "After you told me about the potential blood spatter you found on the cabinet, I decided to test the kitchen first and –"

"That baby lit up like a Christmas tree," Sullivan breathed solemnly as he sprayed the luminol solution over an area of the kitchen floor and a large portion of it lit up. "Somebody lost a lotta blood in here,"

"We're gonna run forensics on the blood spatter you found back at the lab," The man said as he stood back up to face Sullivan. "We'll see if we have a match but I think we probably will,"

"That's great," Sullivan nodded. "Thanks, Bernie,"

. . . . . . . .

"So, how did you say you know Mrs. Shortman?" Detective Rollins asked Jenny once Sullivan had closed the apartment door.

Jenny leaned against the staircase railing. "We're neighbors. We hang out all the time when Arnold's at work," Jenny rolled her eyes when she spoke his name. "He's such an ass; I don't know why Lila put up with him,"

"What do you mean by that?" Rollins inquired.

Jenny scoffed. "He runs around on her. She's havin' his goddamn baby and he's out screwin' who knows what. Lila's a sweetheart and –"

"Excuse me," Detective Rollins interrupted. "You're saying Mrs. Shortman was pregnant?"

"Was?" Jenny's eyes widened. "What the hell do you mean, was?"

"Please just answer the –"

"If that son of a bitch killed her—"

"Please, Mrs. Gilbert," Rollins cut her off again. "Lila Shortman informed you that she was pregnant?"

Jenny huffed. "Well, yeah. Six weeks last Tuesday,"

Rollins nodded and pulled a notepad from his backpocket, jotting this information down. "You don't seem to be very fond of Mr. Shortman,"

"What was your first clue?" Jenny scoffed, rubbing her large belly and looking around. "I need to sit," Rollins nodded as she carefully lowered herself down onto one of the steps. "I told you. He's an ass and doesn't treat her right. She told me so herself. He works all the time, screwin' some tramp at the office. I barely ever see him but Lila…" Jenny paused. "I-I don't know. All I know is that she doesn't seem comfortable bein' here,"

"Do you know if there has been any violence in their relationship?" Rollins asked.

"Not that I've heard, at least," Jenny shrugged. "But I still don't like him,"

Rollins nodded. "Okay, thank you, Mrs. Gilbert. We'll contact you if we need any more information,"

. . . . . . . .

Present Day

The hospital gown was itchy but Helga wasn't ready to change yet. She was still recuperating in one of the beds when a familiar face walked in.

"Ms… Ms. Pataki?" The woman with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair cautiously approached Helga's bedside. "I-I'm Angie Steinberg… Ryan's mother,"

Helga merely nodded and Angie pursed her lips together, surveying the surroundings. Helga was lying in a bed with the white hospital blanket pulled up to the middle of her abdomen. The room was open sans a curtain separating her from the bed on the other side.

"I…" Tears brimmed in Angie's eyes and she brought both hands up to her face to wipe them away. "I can't begin to thank you,"

Helga clenched her jaw and her gaze remained fixed on her hands in her lap before she forced a small smile and looked up at the woman next to her. "You don't have to thank me,"

"If not for you, Ryan might…" Angie's breath caught in her throat and she smiled in an effort to fight away the emotions surging through her. "He's been fighting this… the leukemia, for a while now… we didn't think we were going to find a donor. His father and I aren't a match and he doesn't have any siblings. The chance of his body accepting our marrow was slim,"

Helga nodded. "I'm glad that I could help," She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. Instead her eyes were clouded with pain, both physical and emotional.

"But you don't even know us," Angie said softly. "I just… I don't understand. I'm so grateful but… why us?"

Helga's brow furrowed in thought for a moment and she sighed, shrugging. "You seemed like good people… and it felt like the right thing to do,"

. . . . . . . .

Lila's Diary - 2012

Dear Diary,

Arnold's been ever so supportive since I lost my job a few months ago. I'm certain I didn't see it coming and I wasn't quite sure how he would respond – he didn't seem particularly pleased when I told him I changed my major… again…

We're moving back to Hillwood in a couple of weeks. Arnold's grandfather is ill and I'm afraid he doesn't have much time left so we're going back to care for him until he passes and, I guess, try to get back on our feet. We're both going to have to put our education on hold for the time being and start all over again back in Hillwood. I truly would not have minded moving back considering the circumstances but still… it would have been nice if he'd asked before making the arrangements.

. . . . . . . .

Present Day

Brainy was lounging in a recliner in the living room with the TV on as he picked through the TV dinner he'd made. It was a Monday evening and Arnold was in the bathroom taking a shower. Brainy flipped through the channels, doing a double-take when he saw a familiar face on the screen.

"Yes, it is quite devastating news," Rhonda flashed a forlorn look at the camera before looking back at the bleach-blonde host who was interviewing her. "But we still believe Lila is out there somewhere and that's why I've offered to host this event,"

"Ms. Lloyd, please tell us more about it," The blonde requested. "For any viewers just tuning in,"

"Of course," Rhonda flipped her hair. "Wednesday and Thursday night we will be having a volunteer search event to help find Lila Shortman,"

Brainy heard the bathroom door open and Arnold stepped out in a pair of grey sweatpants and an old green T-shirt. His golden blonde hair looked darker from the water as it lay tousled and partially slicked to his head. He used a towel to try and dry his hair out.

"Arnold," Brainy called, not tearing his eyes away from the TV. "You need to see this,"

"What?" Arnold walked over, his hair more dry and sticking up all over the place as he turned to face the TV. "Huh?"

"Did she tell you she was doing this?" Brainy asked.

Arnold shook his head, one eyebrow quirked. "No…" He walked over to the table where he'd left his wallet and phone and began to sift through his contacts for Rhonda's number. "This isn't live, right?"

"No, this is a recap of the news from earlier tonight,"

Arnold nodded as the phone rang.

"Arnold, darling," Rhonda's smooth voice answered.

"Rhonda, what's this about a volunteer event? Why didn't you tell me?" Arnold asked, plopping down in one of the dining room chairs.

"Oh," Rhonda exclaimed but Arnold doubted she was as surprised as she made herself sound. "Dear, I'm so sorry but I must have forgotten. I was so busy with planning, you know,"

Arnold sighed, "Okay, so what's the plan?"

"Well," Rhonda said and Arnold could imagine her eyes gleaming as they always did when she was planning something. "It will be held at the Hillwood Community Center and we'll have a tip line with volunteers fielding phone calls, making posters, that sort of thing, you know. I've personally arranged for the event to be catered, naturally,"

"Right," Arnold said. "Well, thanks Rhonda. That's really nice of you to –"

"Don't mention it, Arnold," Rhonda cut him off. "But make sure you're there. Wouldn't want to give the wrong impression, right?"

"Uh…"

"After all, it is the least you can do. Anyway, ta-ta for now, Arnold. I must get going. I'll see you Wednesday. Chao, doll," And with that, Rhonda hung up.

"So?" Brainy asked, turning around in his chair to look at Arnold.

"She's trying to help find Lila," Arnold shrugged. What does she mean 'it's the least I can do'?

"Hmm," Brainy hummed but turned back around.

Arnold was thinking about getting up to make something to eat when his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Arnold, what the hell, man?" Gerald's voice exclaimed from the receiver. "I had to hear about your freakin' wife disappearing on the news?"

"You guys get our channel out there?" Arnold asked, dumbfounded and missing the point.

"Rhonda knows how to get a message across," Gerald said simply, then returned to his former state. "But dude, what the hell? Why didn't you call me?! I'm your best friend,"

"I know, I know," Arnold said, leaning back in the chair and pushing a fluffed up blonde lock out of his face. "Everything's just been really crazy. I don't really have my head on straight,"

"No kidding," Gerald exclaimed but was starting to calm down. "Are you okay, Arnold?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," Arnold shrugged and Gerald paused.

"Why don't you sound more worked up than I thought you would?" Gerald inquired. "What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on," Arnold sighed. "How's Phoebe?"

"She's alright," Gerald said. "I think she's ready to have this baby already," He laughed.

Arnold smiled, "I'm really happy for you guys,"

"Thanks, man," Gerald replied gratefully. "She's all kinds of emotional today, though,"

"That comes with the territory, doesn't it?" Arnold stood up and moved to the kitchen area to make himself a sandwich.

"Yeah," Gerald sighed. "But she's got a good reason, I guess. Her latest thing is Helga,"

"Helga?" Arnold grabbed a knife and smeared some peanut butter across a slice of bread.

"Yeah," Gerald replied. "It's been years since they've seen each other and I can't remember the last time she actually answered the phone when Phoebe tried to call,"

"Oh," Arnold said, his face contemplative as he fastened the lid back on a jar of strawberry preserves and put his two slices together. "Is she um, doing alright?"

"I guess," Gerald said. "Ever since that accident, Helga just pushed everybody away. And I mean, more than she used to, ya know?"

"Yeah…"

"Phoebe said she talked to her sister and apparently Olga thought she was embarrassed or something," Gerald explained. "'Cause she couldn't talk right for a while after the coma,"

"It makes sense," Arnold sighed, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"It messed Phoebe up, though," Gerald sighed. "I mean, you know they've been friends as long as we have. I was never close to Pataki or anything but she means a lot to Phoebe and even now, I don't think she's talked to Phoebe for more than ten minutes over the past few years combined,"

Arnold sighed and leaned back against the counter. "She hasn't said anything to me," Technically not a lie.

"Well, yeah," Gerald chuckled softly. "I didn't think she would. I was just sayin'," He paused and Arnold took another bite. "Anyway, I'll let you go. Keep me updated on this Lila thing, okay? And call me if you need anything,"

"Will do," Arnold nodded even though Gerald couldn't see him. "Thanks, Gerald,"

"You got it, buddy,"

. . . . . . . .

Later that night, Helga had fixed herself a bubble bath and was relaxing in the soapy heat, the subtle scent of vanilla and lavender relaxing her senses. She had her blonde hair tied up in a messy bun and her knees stuck out of the water since she couldn't fit the length of her body in the tub. She marveled at the way the heat had turned the submerged parts of her legs a reddish-pink while her exposed knees and ends of her thighs were their usual creamy pale hue.

She'd actually gone to work that day in order to keep up appearances. She didn't want to draw any more attention to herself than was absolutely necessary.

After a few moments of peaceful quiet, Helga rolled over in the tub and dried her hands off with the towel she'd set beside the tub before tapping her phone on. She went into her voicemail box and put the speaker on as she listened to her messages.

Hi baby sister! Olga's voice echoed in the bathroom and Helga half-regretted her decision to listen. We missed you so much at Christmas and the New Year's Eve party. Give me a call when you get this. I know you're so busy but I hope we can spend some time together soon. Miss you! Love, love, more love… Helga could hear someone else's voice in the background before Olga spoke again. Call me soon, Helga.

Helga looked at the date of the message – it was from almost a week ago. She sighed as she deleted the message and went to the only other message waiting for her. She'd only gotten it yesterday but she was still dreading listening to it as she hadn't made a decision yet.

Hey Helga. Peapod's deep voice was a stark contrast to the sugary syrup of Olga's. I was just calling to check in and see if you'd thought about what we talked about before. I don't wanna bother you but please let me know soon if you'd be willing to help. My grandfather has been asking about you and I just want to know if you'll do it. He said he'd be more than willing to compensate you for your time. I guess just give me a call back when you get the chance. Bye.

Helga bit her lip and crossed her arms over the edge of the tub, resting her chin against them as she stared at her phone. She inhaled deeply, narrowing her eyes at the phone as she contemplated one last time before she tapped the call back button on her phone and waited.

"Hello?"

"Peap—I-I mean, Rich?" Helga inquired.

"Yeah," He responded. "Helga?"

"The one and only," She murmured, playing with a piece of hair that'd fallen from her bun.

"Hey," He said easily. "What's up?"

"I'll do it," She said simply.

"You'll –"

"I'll help you find your cousin or niece or whoever," She cut him off. "I can't guarantee I'll be any actual help but if you want me so bad, then fine,"

"O-Oh," Rich said, sounding somewhat taken aback. "That's – thank you, Helga. I'm sure my grandfather will be very happy to hear this,"

"Yeah," Helga replied in a seemingly bored tone. "So what's the plan?"

"How soon can you leave town?" Rich asked.

"Umm…" Helga tapped her fingers against the edge of the tub as she thought. "Let me give my boss some notice and I can probably get off on Wednesday,"

"That sounds great," Rich said, pleased. "My grandfather – his name is William, just so you know – he lives a couple states away. It's a four hour drive but only about an hour if we fly,"

Helga shrugged and realized the warmth from her bath was starting to fade as she felt a cool draft waft over her shoulders. "Sure, whatever,"

"Okay, great," Rich replied, enthused. "Thank you so much, Helga. I'll let him know we'll be coming in a couple of days,"

"Okay," Helga waited for Rich to hang up before she let out a long, deep breath and sank back down into the tub.

. . . . . . . .

Flashback – 2012

"Are you sure we couldn't drive you to Columbia, Helga?" Olga asked, whimpering, as they stood outside the bus station. "It's only a two hour drive,"

Which is an hour and fifty-five minutes too long. Helga thought to herself. "No, I'll be fine on my own,"

Olga, Bob and Miriam had brought Helga to the bus station to see her off. She was moving to Columbia to go to school and Olga was the most emotional of them all – no surprise there. However, she'd cared for Helga to great extents while Helga was recovering from the accident so in this case, her emotional upheaval made sense. Bob and Miriam didn't seem to be as fazed but Helga couldn't complain too much 'cause at least they were there.

"I could come with you and help you get settled," Olga offered, sniffling, as she pulled a suitcase out of the trunk of their dad's blue sedan.

"No, Olga," Helga said simply. "I'll be fine. I need to do this on my own,"

"You're sure?" Olga met her sister's gaze and for a moment, Helga felt a pang in her chest. As much as she hated to admit it, Olga had been a rock for her during the past few years with the coma and recovery and physical therapy… She still annoyed her sometimes but she really did love her sister.

"I'm sure," Helga nodded.

Her lip quivering, Olga threw her arms around her younger sister who was now pretty much her height. "I'll miss you, baby sister,"

Helga awkwardly patted Olga on the back, biting back her own emotions. "You'll be going home in a couple weeks anyway,"

"I'll still miss you," Olga gently gripped her sister's shoulders, pulling away to look her in the face. "I'm so proud of you. You're very strong, Helga,"

That almost did it. Helga bit the inside of her lip to distract herself from wanting to cry. She couldn't even put words together in her head to explain how much she disagreed with Olga's statement. She was far from strong and she just wanted to get away. She wanted to forget everything.

Olga sighed and let go of Helga. "Call us when you get there,"

Helga looked from Olga to each of her parents who nodded solemnly. After a brief moment of thought, Helga gave in and wrapped her arms around Olga in a tight, brief hug. "I will,"

. . . . . . . .

Present Day

The following evening, Detective Sullivan and Detective Rollins showed up at Brainy's apartment.

Arnold opened the door. "Oh, hi detectives," He said, stepping aside to let them in. "Have you found anything?" He asked as he closed the door behind them.

The two detectives, hands in their pockets as they surveyed the living room, turned to him.

"A few things," Sullivan started cautiously. "But we're not quite sure where it's leading yet. We did have a couple questions for you though, if you have the time,"

"Oh, um," Arnold started. "Sure," He led them over to the dining room table and they all sat down.

"Mr. Shortman, do you recognize the name Jenny Gilbert?" Rollins began.

Arnold thought for a minute, "I don't think – wait… I think her and her husband live in the apartment across the hall from us," He paused. "What does she have to do with anything?"

"Mrs. Gilbert claims to be your wife's best friend," Sullivan supplied.

"Best friend?" Arnold quirked an eyebrow. "That doesn't make sense. I mean, we've said hi to them in passing but best friend? No, that doesn't sound right,"

Sullivan retrieved a folded up envelope from her coat pocket and pulled out several photos of Jenny and Lila together, turning them to face Arnold.

"Where did you get these?" Arnold inquired as he studied the photos in disbelief.

"From Mrs. Gilbert," Sullivan replied simply. "They look like friends to me, don't you think?"

Arnold's brow furrowed as he inspected the photos. "This is news to me. I had no idea,"

The detectives nodded and Sullivan slid the photos back into their envelope. "Mr. Shortman, can you tell us – Mrs. Gilbert claims that your wife confided to her that she was approximately 6 weeks pregnant. Is this true?"

"What?" Arnold felt like a rock had slid into his stomach. "N-no, that can't be. That – no!" He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wide with shock.

"You seem pretty upset at the idea of your wife being pregnant," Rollins commented, eyeing Arnold with veiled disdain.

"No, it's just – I-I mean, we…" Arnold tried desperately to think about the last time they'd had sex. Was it even possible? God, he hoped they were wrong. They had to be wrong. But… why did he want so desperately for them to be wrong?

"Mr. Shortman," Sullivan said, interrupting his thoughts. "Our forensics lab ran several tests on your apartment and found that a significant amount of blood had been cleaned up from your kitchen floor,"

Arnold inhaled sharply, "Really?"

"Yes," Sullivan nodded. "We initially noticed a splatter of blood across one of the cabinets and conducted a luminol test which revealed these results. The blood on the floor matched your wife's blood type, according to the information provided by Mr. Sawyer, but we're going to be checking Mrs. Shortman's medical records as well to be sure,"

Arnold's eyes were bulging and he felt dizzy.

"We'll be in touch," Sullivan said as she and Rollins stood up. At this moment, Brainy was coming in the door with a couple grocery bags and a 12 pack of soda under one arm. He eyed the detectives with curiosity as they walked past him and out the door.

Once the door was closed behind them, Rollins said in a low voice, "I don't like it,"

"You think he's good for this?" Sullivan questioned as they slowly descended the staircase.

"That's my best guess,"

Sullivan let out a deep breath as they came to the end of the steps and left the building. "Let's keep digging for now," She said as she unlocked the police car and the two of them hopped inside. "Even if he is, we're gonna be hard-pressed to make a murder case without a weapon or a body,"

. . . . . . . .

"Everything okay?" Brainy asked as he sat the groceries down on the dining room table.

"Yeah," Arnold said, shaking his head as he stood up. "Uh, yeah,"

Brainy paused, "It doesn't seem like it,"

Arnold absent-mindedly grabbed a few items from one of the grocery bags and started carrying them to the kitchen to put away. "Th-they… they think Lila was – is pregnant," He said, the words sounding strange as they left his mouth.

"Seriously?" Brainy inquired, opening the fridge and putting the 12 pack on one of the lower shelves.

Arnold nodded meekly, his gaze fixed and distant.

"So, um,"

"It doesn't make sense though!" Arnold suddenly exclaimed. "We haven't been… intimate… in I don't know how long. She hasn't wanted anything to do with me!"

Brainy pursed his lips and quietly continued to put groceries away.

"I-I… I don't –" Arnold was at a loss for words and abruptly sat a box of cheese crackers down on the counter, growling in frustration. "I need some air," He muttered, grabbing his coat from the back of one of the dining room chairs, and stormed out of the apartment.

. . . . . . . .

Arnold had come back to the apartment later that night after a long walk around Hillwood. Most of the snow was gone but the air was still cold and they were calling for another possible snowstorm the following weekend. A cloud of nostalgia had followed him around for hours as he trudged around the city. As complicated as he'd felt life was when he was a kid, he hadn't realized how difficult things would come to be. Never had he expected to be in the position he was in now and he felt like his mind was going faster than he could keep up with it. Could Lila actually have been pregnant? Honestly, he didn't want her to be. As messy and painful as he imagined it would be to go through a divorce, he couldn't imagine how much worse it would be to have a kid involved. He didn't want to put a child, his own child, through something like that. There had been a time in his life when he didn't even think he'd be the type to get a divorce in the first place. He had always believed that if two people worked at it, they could stay together. That is, until his own marriage with Lila began to unravel.

But what was the point in even worrying about this? Lila was missing and could possibly be seriously injured, or even dead. A pregnancy was the last thing to worry about right now. It was all too much and it made his head spin to the point of feeling like he wanted to throw up. How could he fix this? Could he fix this?

It was after one in the morning and Arnold was sitting at the dining room table in front of his laptop. All of the lights were off and his face was illuminated solely by the light emanating from the screen.

Brainy emerged from his room to go to the bathroom when he noticed the light and followed it out into the main living area.

"What are you still doing up?" He inquired.

"I can't sleep," Arnold muttered, fatigued but awake.

Brainy walked over and with one glance at the screen, looked back at Arnold. "I've created a monster,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arnold glared at him slightly.

"Arnold," Brainy said. "I don't think I have to tell you that this-" He nodded at the computer. "-is the last thing I'd expect from someone whose wife was missing and possibly pregnant,"

Arnold cringed at the words and sighed, sitting back. "I'm just trying to understand," He sighed.

"Shouldn't you be more worried about Lila being gone?" Brainy questioned.

"Of course I am!" Arnold exclaimed heatedly. "But I can't do anything about that, can I?"

"Can you do anything about her?" Brainy pointed at the laptop.

Arnold grumbled. "I have no idea," He crossed his arms over the table and rested his forehead against them, making his words somewhat muffled. "She went back to work and I sent her an email – nothing special, just some information that I thought could help with something she's doing at work – but she didn't even open it,"

"When do you think you're actually gonna try and talk to her?" Brainy asked gently.

Arnold paused. "I don't know," He sighed, sitting back up. "I don't know what I'd even say. I feel responsible and I just…" A soft growl escaped his throat and he looked back at the computer. "It's not the right time now, anyway, with everything else that's going on. I can help her from a distance,"

"Can you?" Brainy raised an eyebrow as a yawn escaped him.

"I think so," Arnold said softly, only half-convinced. "Brainy, do you… do you think I'm doing the right thing? I mean, you knew her pretty well…"

Brainy sighed. "I haven't talked to her in a long time either - longer than you. She left Hillwood a couple years after you did and she didn't really keep in touch with anybody from around here,"

Arnold thought for a minute, watching the screen in front of him. Her computer had been idle for over an hour now but she'd left her email open with a message about flights to Concordia. Farther down in the inbox he saw his email, still unopened.

"When did you stop liking her?" Arnold inquired, not looking up.

Brainy thought for a moment, his pale blonde hair disheveled and his brown eyes bleary and tired. "I think it was sometime in middle school,"

"What happened?" Arnold met his friend's gaze.

Brainy shrugged, "I realized I was never gonna be the one she wanted,"