My Angel
A Hey Arnold FanFic
Authors note: Special thanks to AdventureGirl6. I do not own Hey Arnold and make no attempt to profit from it.
Chapter Thirteen: The Saviour Complex
In a matter of hours, it had been decided; Gerald was going to Rhonda's apartment for observation. No one put up a fight or tried to say otherwise; Arnold had vaguely remembered helping Gerald into a taxi with Rhonda before closing the door, watching his best friend being held closely by Rhonda, vanishing from sight. Someone would have to look after the house, and having nothing better to do, Arnold walked back inside, locking the door behind him as he joined Helga in the living room. Her own shock was still there and Arnold, not knowing how he might handle this himself, headed into the kitchen.
Helga's mind was buzzing; there was nothing she could do to stop herself from imagining the events that could have taken place. She had been there enough times to know how to get herself out, but Gerald…she tried to rid her head of the images and instead focus on something else. But there was nothing else for her to focus on. Arnold's continued presence was creating a prickling feeling in the back of her neck, the same one she often got when he nearly caught her blabbing her deepest darkest secrets to the world.
But perhaps the hardest bit was hoping she would find the courage to eventually talk to him again. It was hard to imagine they might go back to being open with one another, maybe in time they could. Arnold's eyes were firmly focused on her, no doubt thinking exactly what she was. Helga didn't want to be the one to start the conversation: she knew that now, more than ever, it would be make or break. Worst case scenario was that she could lose him, and not only that, but also lose her heart with him. And she couldn't bear that.
"Arnold?"
She could feel the word leave her mouth, but nothing seemed to come of it. Arnold's eyes remained idle, his face not registering Helga had even spoken. She could not keep this up. "Hey Arnold!"
Catching his attention, his gaze broke and found Helga staring at him; startled, he looked around for the sign of the voice and came to rest on Helga. He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he finally considered her presence. Not since the accident had she really been alone with him, except for last night…and she knew the fate of their relationship hung on what was she said next.
"Do you think Gerald will be ok?" she timidly asked, unsure of how he might react to reliving his best friend's near-death attempt.
"I don't know Helga. I thought I may have helped him before, but this…I don't know what to think Helga. I thought he was moving on; how can he still be stuck like this?"
"I think I know how," Helga spoke gently.
Arnold made to speak but held his tongue as Helga twiddled her fingers, trying to find the right words to help her explain. "It's hard to explain…sometimes you feel so sad and alone, like there's this great big blanket holding you down, covering you and keeping you from being able to get out," Helga choked, trying her best to not tear up.
"You sometimes wish it was there, but then you wish and hope it will just leave you alone. There is nothing worse than waking up to know that there is nothing you can possibly do, nothing in your power which will help change what has happened. I know how Gerald feels, because I felt like this when Miriam died…and when Phoebe died."
Helga sighed and continued. "For the longest time I couldn't accept it; how could I? My best friend jumped off a roof right in front of me. And then I started to think I caused it, that something I had done made her do this. I thought she was paying me back for being a lousy friend. But then I started to see her."
Arnold cocked a brow. "See her?"
Her heart began to race. She hadn't meant to confess this to Arnold; she was only meant to be talking to him about Gerald and maybe explain how she was feeling. But he had been so easy to talk to; he had always been so easy to talk to. She could feel it before she saw it, but a small hand rested itself on her shoulder and whispered gently to her ear. "Go on Helga."
Watching the last of her friend vanish, Helga took a deep breath and moved on. "I saw Phoebe a few times; she would come when I thought I needed her most, or when I didn't think I did. She would come, like a ghost and talk to me."
"So, Phoebe came to you, like a ghost and helped you?" Arnold asked puzzled, questioning his own sanity as he continued listening to her.
"She did, in her own way. I guess I never realised until it was too late how much I really depended on her. She was always there you know? Even when no one else was…there she was, taking notes, buying me an ice-cream and always listening to my every waking thought, keeping locked away my deepest and darkest secrets," Helga grinned.
"But why focus on her? Was Gerald seeing her too?" Arnold asked, trying to keep himself together. All this talk of ghosts and death was starting to worry him.
"I don't know. Maybe he was seeing her, but I never talked to him about it."
"So, Gerald was- "
"Arnold, I need a drink," she mumbled, leaving her chair and heading into the kitchen.
Arnold sat where he was, leaning back and taking in the comfort of the leather chair. He wasn't too sure he understood what Helga was seeing, but the same worry began to dawn in his stomach once more. Was she ok? Would Gerald be able to get over this? His mind was racing still when Helga came back, her water in hand. He decided he needed to act upon her willingness to talk and get to the bottom of it all. Whatever was holding her back was now tied in with Phoebe and Gerald.
"Helga, when you say you saw Phoebe and admitted you need her, what were you really hiding from?"
Helga was startled, placing her drink down carefully as she studied him for a moment. "Nothing."
"It doesn't sound like nothing Helga. What is your deep, dark secret?" Arnold whispered softly.
Squirming in her chair, Helga's heart was beating harder than ever before. "It is nothing Arnold."
"Helga tell me! It can't be nothing. Phoebe is coming back to you for a reason, and Gerald is now gone. For once Helga be the girl I know you are, be the wonderful caring person I know is deep down inside you," he pleaded with her, trying to get her to open up to him.
Helga though, snapped. "What right do you have, football head, to tell me this? You can't order me around and force me to tell you. Even if Gerald is in trouble, he is not my problem," she shouted, now standing over him with a ferocity she hadn't used in years.
"You know what," Arnold spat back, rising to meet her eyes, "I don't know why I defend you Helga. I always thought there was some good in you, some love that was only hidden because you were afraid. But maybe I was wrong, maybe I shouldn't have defended you."
"I never asked you to do that," she glared murderously. "That is so typical of you Arnold. You always butt into people's lives, whether they want you to or not. You have such a saviour complex sometimes; you just won't leave it well enough alone will you!"
Now on the verge of crying, Helga could feel her eyes begin to water. "And you know what hurts the most? The fact that you never tried to get to know me, never tried to look beyond who I was- "
"Cut it out Helga! You know I did; you know that I want to know the real you. Why these walls, these barriers? Did I hurt you? Did I bully you in primary school?"
Helga crossed the floor, pushing her nose against Arnold's. "Listen here bucko, there is nothing you can do that will make me tell you. You're not worth the effort…I can't believe I liked you."
Arnold froze; Helga's hand moved to her mouth too late. The words had escaped her, betrayed her and her hand couldn't stop it. She took a step back, Arnold's eyes wider than she had ever seen them. Maybe he would pretend he hadn't heard it. Hopefully he would ask her what she said and she could tell him something else. She watched him process it though and began to panic inside. She couldn't have told him surely…
"You liked me?" Arnold blurted out, his stunned look making her want to run and hide.
Helga sat down and curled up into a ball. "Forget it Arnold," she mumbled, mumbled just like she had as a little girl. Another person had tried to break past her walls and she had told them; she had been a fool. No one could love her.
Within a moment a soft hand, so gentle and warm, rested on her hands, the touch breaking past her tears. She glanced up at him and stared into the eyes she had come to treasure in her deepest dreams. His eyes gazed into hers, past all that was and saw in her soul something that only she could see on the happiest of days: he saw her. The simplest and truest form of her. In here she was safe, there was no one to hurt her, not love to be lost and here she could watch them. But Arnold was here, telling her without words that he cared for her like few people ever had.
"Helga, I need to know. Do you like me, like me?" he pleaded once more, the words so gentle and comforting in her ears.
Helga looked at him, taking in all that she could before closing her eyes. "I don't like you, like you Arnold. I…"
D & F
This whole operation was risky, but he needed to confront it now. Rhonda knew she was taking a big chance on Gerald. But he'd been running away from this for too long. Holding his hand while she led him upstairs, Rhonda wouldn't have recommended this, but he had hidden the truth from himself, leaving only his guilt and mourning. Now it was time for Gerald to confront it. Dodging the low beams of the final room, she had led him to the top of the old house, holding him closely. He hadn't opened his eyes once. She hadn't heard him speak since they had come to the roof.
"We're here Gerald," Rhonda whispered.
"Where?" he mumbled, trying to get away from Rhonda's grip.
"Where it all began for you, where you first started running. No more Phoebe. I give up."
His hands tightened around her grip. "Rhonda, why am I here?"
"We're here because it's time to face it Gerald. You could have ended your life at any point, but you don't have to end it. Because there is more to life, more to experience and dream of."
Gerald broke from her grip and sat down on the cold roof-top, his arms wrapping around himself tightly to try and keep himself warm. "She is gone Rhonda; I might as well go with her."
"But you don't have to. You've been running Gerald- "
"What from?"
"Phoebe's death," she said exasperated.
With great reluctance she joined him, keeping her eye on him closely in case he tried something. "You've been running from her death for some time. You've mourned her yes," she reassured in response to his questioning glare, "But even now you must realise that you have not confronted yourself about it completely. Why else would you still be running and trying to avoid it?"
Gerald didn't seem to want to respond, instead choosing to gaze out over the roof. Rhonda took it as an omen and continued. "You want to end this because you can't reconcile the pain you feel when you think about her. Nothing else would drive you this far Gerald. Whatever happened, it has happened. You need to let it go."
"Phoebe was everything to me; she was my angel in the dark. Did you know she was the kindest person I ever met? And she never said a bad word against me. She was better than anyone I had ever met," Gerald sobbed for a moment, before rounding on Rhonda. "But how dare you tell me to move on. Phoebe would want me to end it all."
"Yes Gerald, she would want you to end this self-pitying," Rhonda shot back. "She would want you to move on with your life and forgive yourself. You knew her better than anyone, so you should know that."
Gerald glared at her for a moment; for the briefest of glimpses, Rhonda could see everything he was thinking and knew she had pushed him too far. There was a rawness in his eyes that only she could understand to be loss. Nothing else was shining in his eyes as he stood up, the determination set in his movements. Rhonda got up but couldn't stop him walking to the ledge, his head looking below.
"It wouldn't hurt you know," Gerald shouted back to her over the raging winds. "It can all end where it began. No more heartache, no more sleepless nights…no more Phoebe."
Rhonda moved towards him carefully. She had gone too far; her mind was already beginning to panic but she had to try. She needed him to realise it otherwise it was all too late. "Gerald, think about it."
"There is nothing left to think about Rhonda, I can see it all so clearly now," his voice breaking as he looked down once more.
"Is this what you want Gerald? To run away one last time?" Rhonda shouted.
"What do you mean run away? I'm not running."
"Yes, you are. Everything you have done has led you to this point, because you can't face her death Gerald. You need to face it."
Gerald turned around and stared at her like he had never seen her before in his life. "That's ridiculous. I know Phoebe is dead. I've been mourning her ever since she died."
"Where did it happen Gerald?" Rhonda hugged herself, moving closer to him.
Gerald looked around for a moment, trying to remember where exactly it had happened. "It happened here…on this very roof."
He seemed to be trying to piece it all together and it was only when she was within a metre of him that it finally clicked. "It happened here…she was on this roof top…she walked to this very ledge and jumped off, ending it all. She killed herself on this very rooftop," Gerald whispered to Rhonda, his face paling as he finally realised it.
Catching him, Rhonda held Gerald close as he cried out loudly into the night. "She's dead! Phoebe!" he yelled out to the night, clutching onto Rhonda tightly.
Rhonda couldn't help but begin to cry; she held herself together, watching Gerald release it all…she held him tightly against her chest, stroking his forehead as drops began to splash on her head. Gerald continued to cry out, all the pain flowing out of him as each new cry brought out his anger. He was torn up, but Rhonda knew as the rain came pouring down that he needed this. He was finally beginning to let go.
D & F
Helga had started to say it but stopped. Arnold squeezed her hands reassuringly and continued to look into her beautiful blue eyes. "Please tell me Helga."
Rain had begun to pour outside, pelting against the windows, but Helga ignored it all as Arnold continued to gaze into her. Thunder flashed and lit the room for a moment before returning it to the near dark bliss it had been for a while now. Her lips tried to form the words, but failed her time and time again. Finally, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"I love you Arnold."
Expecting him to run away, Helga was startled to see him looking at her, still holding her hands and not breaking his care for her. "Helga," he began, but was pushed away by her before he could go on.
"I know you don't feel the same way Arnold," she sobbed, standing up and walking away. She had to get out of here. But a hand grabbed her, holding tightly onto her and not allowing her to escape.
Spinning around, she couldn't believe he was holding her here against her will. "Let me go Arnold," she pleaded desperately. "I can't take this."
Thunder lit him up for a moment and all she could make out was a smile, gentle and loving. "Helga," he whispered, pulling her close to his chest, "I don't just like you, like you. I love you."
In that moment, it clicked: for the smallest of moments, Helga knew he truly did. Nothing about this could be a lie. He was open, he had gone past every blockade, broken down every wall she had put up to keep him out. And here he was, telling her that her wildest dreams were not a lie. Arnold loved her. He loved her.
Thunder roared to life around her once more; shrieking quietly, she pushed herself into his chest and shivered. She felt his arms wrap around her, holding her tightly and comfortingly. For the longest time, she had only ever wished he would hold her like this, and with the rain crashing down outside, Helga felt oddly comforted. His hand stroked her head softly, whispering every now and then it would be alright. Slowly though she pulled away, gazing into his eyes.
She saw what she had only ever hoped for. Arnold looked at her, his eyes carrying all the hurt and pain away. With a ragged breath she leaned in, her eyes closing dreamily as Arnold did the same. Closed, her lips guided her and felt something for the first time she had never felt before. It was soft, but passionate; gentle, yet unyielding in expressing its delight and love for her. Legs were turning to jelly, the beats in her heart pounding against her chest. He was kissing her…and she loved it! For what felt like the longest time she held him close, taking in the scent and strength he held. And for the longest time she forgot where she was and embraced him. No matter what happened, she loved him.
