[A/N: Hey guys! Things have been a bit hectic here lately. My great grandmother passed away last week and we had the funeral to take care of and stuff... that plus school and work make it difficult to find time to do anything.

I hope you guys have been enjoying this story so far. I've been kind of unsure as to whether most people who find it are liking it or not. I see lots of views but not much other activity so it's hard to know if most people are actually enjoying the fic. I'm so thankful, though, to those of you who review. You guys really help keep me motivated; you're the best!

I have ideas for how I want the story and the mystery to wrap up but I might decide to wrap it up sooner if most people who find it aren't super into it. I dunno! If you like where things are going and you're having fun reading, please let me know.

That aside, this chapter is kind of on the short side and I apologize for that. I just thought this would be a nice place to end and I hope it doesn't disappoint!

And as always, I don't own Hey Arnold.]

Lila paused, trying to formulate the words that were spinning in her head. Brooke had mentioned Helga trying to find information on her mother, so that was one thing. It also sounded as if Brooke knew who attacked Lila when she was younger. Would that mean she could find him? That idea both scared and thrilled her as it brought to surface even darker thoughts than the ones she'd already been dealing with. She wanted that man to suffer. She wanted him to die for what he did to her…

"Um…" Lila hummed. "You said a lot in your voicemail and I was just hoping you could tell me more," She said as sweetly as she could.

Brooke sighed. "Lila, don't you think we should have this conversation in person?"

"That isn't really an option right now, I'm afraid," Lila said abruptly, impatiently.

Brooke started for a moment, "Well…" It was obvious she felt uncomfortable with what she was discussing but she continued anyway. "As you know, your mother and I were close friends growing up. I spent a lot of time with her family as a child and we did just about everything together," She paused, her thoughts drifting. "Would you have any idea as to why this girl, Helga, is trying to contact me? Who is she?"

"She's an old classmate," Lila said, forlorn. "Can you tell me more about my mom? About what happened? Neither of you ever told me why she ended up in Hillwood…"

"I know, dear," Brooke said, her voice pained. "And when you were attacked, I just…" Her voice broke slightly but she fought desperately to keep her composure. After all, a woman of her class needed to maintain some measure of dignity, right? "Lila… She was so desperately afraid, and rightly so. I did the best I could to try and help her but I'm afraid it wasn't enough…"

Lila struggled with the conflicting emotions of an aching heart and impatience. "You tried, and I could never thank you enough for what you did for her… and for me. But you think you know who was responsible for what happened to her?" She asked. "To me?"

"I can't prove it," Brooke admitted. "But there's no doubt in my mind,"

"Where can I find them?"

. . . . . . . .

Arnold's thoughts were racing as the cab drove him to an island just off the coast of Concordia. He'd saved the only address on her laptop to memory and had written it down as soon as he got his hands on a piece of paper. On the way to the airport he'd phoned 9-1-1 and sent an ambulance to the address, hoping and praying that he was right and that that's where Helga was.

And that he wasn't too late.

The flight had only been about an hour but it'd felt like an eternity. How could he have missed so much? All this time he'd spent watching her from afar and he'd never expected her to do something like this. Somehow he felt he'd failed her all over again. If it wasn't bad enough that his car was the one that caused her car to flip (and sustain more damage) during the accident, he'd been spying on her for years, completely oblivious to how depressed she was and the reason.

She thinks I'm dead.

Arnold struggled to process that as he tapped his foot impatiently on the plane. He was immensely thankful that the seat next to him was empty, otherwise he was sure he would've driven any passenger who sat next to him crazy with his constant fidgeting, shifting, sighing, and huffing.

It was night and the streets were dark sans the street lights. As they drove over the bridge to the island, Arnold stared out at the water, pitch black but glistening here and there with the light from the moon.

At this point, he was struggling with so much guilt, he wasn't sure what to do or where it was coming from anymore. Guilt over the accident, guilt over his relationship with Lila, guilt over not being completely focused on her absence, and guilt over being completely blind to Helga's pain.

She meant so much to him and he might lose her tonight.

That thought crossed Arnold's mind and he quietly gasped, taken aback by the realization at first but it made sense. He couldn't deny he cared about her. He always had. And would he have been so determined to keep in touch with her if he didn't? Probably not. The thought of never having the chance to appropriately apologize to her frightened him but not as much as the thought of never being able to say anything to her again. He had to fix this. There had to be a way.

The cab had barely stopped moving when Arnold jumped out in front of the cottage. There was a cop car outside with two officers talking. The lights were on inside the cottage and the front door was propped open.

Thanking his lucky stars he hadn't been prohibited from leaving the state by the judge, he cautiously approached the officers.

"E-Excuse me," Arnold found his voice after clearing his throat. "Is my friend alright? Her name is Helga,"

The officers exchanged looks but one of them turned and spoke, his voice firm but gentle. "They took her to the hospital about fifteen minutes ago,"

"So she's alive?!" Arnold exclaimed and the officer's eyes widened for a moment in surprise.

"Yes," He nodded.

"What hospital?"

"Concordia General, on the mainland," The officer replied and Arnold immediately bolted back to the cab.

"I kept the meter running," The cab driver said gruffly, obviously irritated at Arnold's sudden mad dash out of the cab.

"I don't care," Arnold said absent-mindedly. "Can you take me to Concordia General?"

The driver turned around and as they headed back to the mainland, Arnold's heart and mind raced.

She was okay. She wasn't dead. He wasn't too late. Everything was gonna be okay, he just had to get to her and… and then…

She thinks I'm dead…

How was she going to react when he showed up? Would she be able to handle it? Would it be a good thing or do more harm than good? He wrestled with these thoughts the whole rest of the way and when they stopped in front of the main entrance, he waited impatiently for the cab driver to swipe his credit card.

This thing is taking a beating tonight… Arnold thought to himself as he slipped the card back into his wallet. He was sure that between the last-minute flight and the cab fare alone, he'd probably almost maxed his card out. So much for paying off that chunk of debt. But that didn't really matter right now. All he cared about was finding Helga. He had to make this right. He wasn't sure how, other than to let her know that he was alive and to finally apologize for crashing into her car. His head was spinning too much and his adrenaline was pumping too hard for him to stop and think for long.

Helga was already in a room since she'd come in via ambulance.

"She was so lucky," The nurse said as she escorted Arnold down several hallways. "The beam she attached that hose to broke; it couldn't hold her weight," Arnold could feel his blood pressure slowly starting to return to normal as they rounded corridors and the nurse explained what happened. "She hit her head when she fell – it knocked her unconscious for a while. She was getting an CT-scan a little while ago so I'm not sure if she's back in the room yet or not but you're welcome to wait for her,"

I'm not sure if I should be waiting for her in her room when she comes back… I don't want to scare her…

They finally came to a room with a glass window, shielded by a curtain. The wide hospital door was open and Arnold made sure to stay out of view.

"Oh, good," The nurse, who was in view of the door and could see inside, said pleasantly. "She's back,"

"Thanks," Arnold said, glancing toward the door and suddenly feeling very nervous about stepping inside.

"Our hospital psychiatrist will be coming back soon to do a crisis work-up on her," The nurse advised. "But you're welcome to visit with her now, if you like,"

"Thank you," Arnold repeated and the nurse smiled before walking in the direction they'd come.

He turned and leaned back against the doorframe. What could he say to her? Where was he even supposed to start? So much was about to change, he was sure of it. They had so much they obviously needed to talk about, needed to know about, but as his adrenaline rush subsided he felt weak and tired. He wasn't sure what to do.

Gathering his courage, he slowly turned around and gently knocked against the doorframe.

"It's obviously open," A painfully familiar voice muttered and he felt a surge of nostalgia, pain, and wonder wash over him. This was it.

He noticed his hand was trembling and he mentally chastised himself for being so nervous. Without any other ideas for a better entrance, he slowly slid around the frame and stood in the doorway.

Helga was sitting up in the bed, supported by several pillows behind her back. There was a large gauze bandage with a blood stain on the side of her head and some bruising at her neck. He gulped at the sight and fought to keep his eyes on her face.

Her features, more delicate than he remembered them being, were contorted into her infamous scowl. She somehow looked completely different yet remarkably the same and it took his breath away. For a moment, he'd forgotten what he wanted to say and his mind, for the first time that night, quieted.

Eventually she lifted her gaze and when she met his, her eyes widened, her face blanched. They stood in silence for a minute, neither of them daring to say a word.

Helga's heart was pounding and she wondered if she was hallucinating. Could this really be happening? Was it really him? No, he was dead. That had been her fault. Why was she seeing him?

Helga moved her lips to speak but nothing came out, her face still locked in a look of pure, stunned confusion.

Arnold took a few ginger steps closer to Helga's bed and this seemed to awaken her from her daze.

"A-A-A –" She couldn't form the word but Arnold nodded knowingly. At that, tears instantly flooded Helga's eyes and Arnold quickly closed the space between them. "I can't –" She coughed, her voice slightly raspy and her expression still aghast.

Arnold looked down at her from her bedside, his face soft, and he surprised himself when he felt his own eyes welling up. He hadn't realized how much this would affect him but especially knowing that she'd spent the past seven years thinking he was dead, he found himself experiencing more emotions than he could keep up with. He was so relieved that she was okay and wanted nothing more than to take away the guilt she'd been grappling with for all this time. He understood guilt; he'd been dealing with it himself for just as long but somehow, looking at her, he knew everything was going to be alright now.

He quickly blinked tears away and smiled at her. "I'm here,"

This broke Helga and she started crying profusely, her sobs sounding particularly painful as she wheezed the slightest bit. Acting on instinct, Arnold leaned in to hug her, rubbing her back. This only served to overwhelm Helga even more and she gripped him tightly, her tears staining the fabric of his sweatshirt. Arnold felt her shoulders heaving as she sobbed, her head nestled against his collarbone and her hair tickling his neck. They stayed like this for several minutes until Helga's breathing started to normalize. Arnold carefully pulled away from her, studying her face as if it could provide all of the answers to the questions he could barely form.

"You're alive," Helga said weakly, her voice almost a whimper as she smiled the most pure smile he'd ever seen in his life.

He nodded, pursing his lips.

"How?" She quirked her head, still staring at him as if he were an angel and she would soon realize she'd died.

"I didn't die in the accident, Helga," Arnold said quickly. "The person they wrote about… it wasn't me,"

Helga's brow furrowed in confusion. "But it said –"

"I know," Arnold cut her off. "I know, I saw the headlines. But that wasn't me. Maybe someone got their facts mixed up or maybe someone else with the same name died that day, I don't know, but it wasn't me, Helga," He was beginning to feel another surge of emotion and he fought to keep himself composed. He wanted to be strong for her but he hadn't expected to feel so… overwhelmed.

"But I saw your car!" Helga cried. "I saw the Packard!"

"I was in the accident," Arnold said, turning his face away in shame as he heaved a deep sigh. "I couldn't stop in time and I hit you… I—I've felt so guilty all these years because if I had reacted faster, I could've stopped and I wouldn't have hit you," He paused, his brow furrowed. The time had finally come to be honest with her and confess his guilt. "That's what caused your car to flip. If that hadn't happened, you probably wouldn't have ended up in that coma…" He paused, biting his lip as another wave hit him and his eyes welled up. "I hated that I did that to you, Helga. It was my fault,"

"No, no, no, no…" Helga shook her head adamantly, her own tears falling freely. "Arnold, it's okay,"

Arnold gave her a weak smile. "Do… do you mind… can I hug you?" He asked pathetically and Helga laughed, shaking her head and smiling. "I'm so glad you're okay," He said softly, his arms wrapped around her shoulders and the sides of their heads resting gently against one another.

Both of them were reeling from the realizations and the confessions, the heavy weight of the past seven years finally releasing them from its chokehold. And in its place, pure joy. It was a childlike feeling that left them emotionally exhausted but elated. Even if for a brief moment in time, they forgot about the past. They forgot that Helga was supposed to be tough and mean and Arnold was supposed to be wary of her. They forgot about everything and for just a few minutes, it was only them. It was a blissful moment in which all walls were down and both could find comfort in the truth, find relief in the circumstances that brought them to where they were now. There was still so much to talk about, so much to figure out, but for now, things were okay. And somehow, in that blissful moment of peace, they could find strength and forgiveness.