Dedicated to those people who have been encouraging me (you know whom you are), and also dedicated to those people who've been wondering when Arnold would make his way into the picture again. :)

Chapter Six: "Saying Sorry"

Panic called you out and took you in

Giving you an easy game

And letting you win

You're giving back a little hatred

Now to the world

'Cause it treated you bad

'Cause you couldn't keep

The great unknown from making you mad

Said your final word

But honesty and love could've kept us together

One day you'll see

It's worth it after all

If you ever want to say you're sorry

You can give me a call

From "A Question Mark" by Elliott Smith

"You know what you are? You're absolutely crazy!" Blond locks of hair flew wildly in the air, and the woman who owned them looked slightly bewildered. Each time she spoke, her words carried more and more venomous anger with them. "That's what you are!! What the hell is wrong with you, Phoebe??" Phoebe opened her mouth to say something but was cut off. "What possessed you to think I'd actually do that?! Are you nuts?!?"

Again, Phoebe tried to speak, but after nearly five minutes of a full-blown tirade, she gave up and waited for her to finish. There was no point in trying to talk when Helga was in one of her "moods".

"Why on earth would you want me to call him? He and I are over, Pheebs, and I'm married with a baby on the way! Do you think Arnold would really want to pick up where we left off?? Ha!" Helga thrust her hands behind her back and began to pace in a circle around Phoebe's tiny office. She knew she was thinking out loud, and it was pissing off her old friend, but she couldn't help herself. Phoebe had asked her what she thought about ringing up Arnold, and for one brief moment, she had entertained the idea. She had let it dance around in her head, and she had danced merrily with it until she realized what all this joyous dancing really meant. Then she had kicked it off the stage. "I don't know, I don't know. Would he really want to hear from me? No, that's absurd! You just don't call someone up after almost ten years and say, 'Hey, I recently realized that I never stopped loving you. In fact, I still regularly lust after you, so what do you say about us going at it like a couple of animals? Also, newsflash -- I'm not fat; I'm just pregnant.'" She looked at Phoebe and shook her head. "I can't do it. You can kick me out of here, if you want, but I can't make that call. He's probably changed over the years, and I'm worse. He hated me like this, Phoebe. He didn't understand why I...why I need him to do it to me. If he catches wind of Todd, what will I do then? What will he think of me?" Her voice began to crack as she was on the verge of tears again. Oh, God. What would Arnold think of her if he knew she had gotten worse?

Phoebe readjusted her glasses and then coughed. "Are you finished then?"

"Yeah, I guess I am," Helga mumbled and then plopped back onto the leather couch.

The petite Asian-American began to chew her lip and click her pen against her clipboard, a sure sign that she was deep in thought – or just a little nervous. Helga couldn't quite remember which it was as both emotions looked the same on Phoebe. She coughed again and then refocused her attention on Helga. "There's something I should tell you."

"This can't be good," Helga joked, just to hide her anxiety.

The tiniest of smirks crept onto Phoebe's face. "Well, that depends, really. I think it is. What you think, however, may be different."

"OK, that's enough. Spill, Heyerdahl."

"He knows."

"Who knows?" Helga asked, a tad annoyed, and then it slowly dawned on her. "Oh...oh! He knows?? How did he find out, Phoebe?!"

Phoebe held up her hands in defense. "I didn't tell him, Helga! There's that whole patient-doctor confidentiality thing, remember?" Then she looked at the floor, her voice almost a whisper. "Gerald told him."

Helga jumped from her chair, scaring the other woman. "What!!" She started pulling on her hair in frustration – an old habit she'd picked up from her father. "What the hell, Pheebs! What sort of mess have you gotten me into??"

Now in the past, the old Phoebe would have cowered and apologized like crazy, but this new grown Phoebe wasn't about to let someone – including someone she considered her oldest, dearest friend – treat her with disrespect, even if the tiniest part of old Phoebe felt the anger was justified. She stood and crossed her arms, glaring at Helga, who wasn't ready for this side of her friend. "I've gotten you into nothing you don't want to be in! It was merely a suggestion. I'm not asking you to lay your heart on the line again. I'm just asking you to be friends. He really wants you back in his life, Helga. I didn't want to tell you before because I knew you weren't ready, and judging by your display today, you still aren't. You may have stopped all contact with him and everyone else, but Gerald and I are still his friends. Oh!" She pinched her nose and sat back down in her swivel chair. "Just give me a minute, OK? Major headache coming on."

Helga nodded, suddenly feeling guilty. "Look, I'm--"

Phoebe shushed her. Then she took off her glasses and rubbed her forehead. Helga watched impatiently as she cleaned the lens and then restored the frames to their proper place. "This is me speaking as your best friend now, not your psychologist. Helga, for years after you left, Gerald and I had to comfort Arnold because he was so miserable. I don't think he's ever really stopped loving you. Honestly, you two are so much the same, it's ridiculous," she muttered, then laughed to herself. "Every day during college, he would fight with himself about calling you to make up, but then he would assure himself that things were better off if he didn't."

Helga sighed, wishing he had went through with those attempts. "I didn't know. Why did he think he'd better off?"

The look on Phoebe's face was quite curious. First, her eyes were wide with sudden remembrance, and then they narrowed with a her lips curling into a sly grin. "He didn't think he'd be better off. He was trying to save you." She rolled her eyes. "From himself."

"Huh??"

Phoebe broke out into laughter. "Well, you see, one night while Arnold was intoxicated, he started releasing little tidbits of information. Your therapy assignment wasn't the first time I've heard of your tendencies."

Helga felt her face warming from embarrassment. He had told them?? That should have been a secret...up until she spilled it, that is. "I can't believe the nerve of him."

"Don't worry about it. It's not surprising, really, and I wasn't surprised at the time when he mentioned it to me and Gerald. Aggressive people, people used to being in charge, usually have a fondness for BDSM. That's well documented. Having someone take your ability to control from you is a way of relaxing and relieving stress." Phoebe paused, staring at Helga thoughtfully. "What surprised me was that Arnold liked being in control of you. That's why he wouldn't call. For a long time, before I finally convinced him that his feelings are normal, he thought he was some sort of sick monster. He didn't know why he'd been so excited whenever he forced you to give in to him."

Helga remembered back to the few times they'd been together before she left for college. She'd never gotten far with him, especially not after the first time, but a few times when they had been bored and lonely while laying on his bed, he had initiated some heavy make-out sessions, and she'd always figured that it was his way of trying to keep a hold of her because he'd been mixed up about their parting ways. Now she knew that he really thought of those sweet moments as times when he was "controlling the beast," so to speak. Was Arnold...like her? But she was sick! She knew she was.

So did that make him sick, too?

No! Nothing could corrupt her beloved angel!

Or had she?

"What do I do, Phoebe? I'm confused. I've always thought that what Todd and I do...that it's just karma punishing me, and I have to take it." She bit down on her lip until she felt a trickle of blood. How could she have done this to pure, sweet Arnold? How could she ever look at herself without contempt now? "What have I done? I didn't mean to bring Arnold into this painful world." Tears slipped down her cheeks.

Phoebe pulled some tissues from her desk and wiped away the streaks left behind, and then offered Helga more tissues to blow her nose. Afterward, she took Helga's face in her hands and smiled. "Helga, do you love him?"

"What kind of dumb question is that?"

"Did you love him when he took control? Would you like him to do it again?"

Helga could feel her ears burning from embarrassment, and she darted her head from Phoebe's grasp. "What are you going on about??"

Phoebe shook her head, giggling. "Helga! What Todd does to you is wrong, yes, because he puts no love behind it. Then it's abuse. If you and Arnold decide to get a little kinky now and then, well, that's just a normal sex life." Helga stared at her in shock. "You aren't the only one who likes to engage in a little roleplaying, you know."

"OK, that's just too much information now. I don't need to know how you and Geraldo get your kicks."

"Consider it payback for learning the hard way about yours." She winked, and Helga turned a darker shade of red. "So how about it? You don't have to talk that long. Just reestablish your friendship. He can come for visits if you'd like."

So what now?

Her attention turned to the lone window in the office. She took in the deep blue of the afternoon sky and the bright summery green of the foliage. Unwillingly, her eyes focused harder on the green, and she noticed how similar it was to Arnold's beautiful irises. Was it a sign? Should she make peace with Arnold? Invite him back into her life? Should she allow herself to be hurt again? Because she knew that's what life would be like, probably forever. It couldn't be helped, of course, but she had to be realistic. As long as Arnold breathed the same air, he was hurting her somehow.

She scoffed at herself. Was it all really as simple as that? Arnold would never really hurt her; he'd never meant to, right? And what about Todd? He'd find out somehow. Sighing, she turned back to Phoebe. "I can try, I guess. What do I do when it happens?"

"When what happens?"

Fresh tears fell onto her pink blouse. "When Todd kills us...because it will happen, you know. You won't be able to keep him out of here for much longer. He'll come back to get me, like he always does. Even if I find a way to not need him, he needs me."

Phoebe clasped Helga's shaking hands in hers and looked Helga in the eyes as she said firmly, "I'll never let that happen." Then Helga felt Phoebe's small arms envelope her into a strong hug, and she found herself hugging back. Even though it felt so good, she knew the high wouldn't last long.

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The phone was mocking her, she was sure of it. Its cream plastic covering glistened under the hospital's fluorescent lights, beckoning her to use it. To apologize for giving up on them, for giving up on life so long ago. Oh, she wanted to talk to him, to hear that sweet melodious baritone in her ear, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to pick up the receiver yet. She was afraid still...afraid of what to say, and terrified of what Todd would do to Arnold if he should find out. If he finally had a face to put with the name she'd once called out during sex early in their relationship, she knew he'd find a way to get Arnold. He'd forbidden the use of that name in their house, which was partially why she'd forced herself to forget her former life in the first place.

More tears slipped down her wet face. She'd cried so many times today, and she felt like she should be dry by now, but that wasn't the case. If she didn't keep making herself stop, she probably had enough to fill up a lake, at least.

Each time she built up the courage to finally pick the damn thing up, someone else would come to make their own call, and each time, she'd move because she didn't want to them to accuse her of being rude or snoopy. She was too low on energy to pick a fight.

Sometime during the evening, the phone stopped being used, and she started migrating toward it again, checking her surroundings to make sure that no one was paying attention to her. As her fingers slid over the receiver, she started hyperventilating. She swore she could hear all sorts of different versions of herself shouting at her.

C'mon, Helga! You can do this! How hard is it to dial a freaking number and just say, "Hello, Hair Boy"?

It's now or never, you know.

No, don't!! This is Arnold! You can't just say hello to him! He's going to want to talk!!

He's probably married or something by now...he has to be. Phoebe just wanted you to be friends again, remember? She never said anything about you asking him out or humping his leg...just talk.

What if he isn't married? What if he's just been...waiting, all this time?

What if he hasn't? What if he's married to...no, she married that weirdo cousin of his, right?

What if you all put a sock in it and dial the damn number?!?

Sighing, she unfolded the note with his number on it, grabbed the receiver, and began to punch the buttons. Sweat formed in her palms as she listened to the sound of ringing over the line. "Maybe he's not home," she whispered to herself, but after nine rings, someone picked up.

Thankfully, it was not a woman. "Hello?" Oh God, that sweet baritone! "Hello?" Oh God, what the hell should she say?? Frantically, she tried to think of something. "I know someone's there. I can hear you breathing." Why was it so hard to talk? It's not like she hadn't talked to him before! "Look, I don't have all night, so why don't you--"

Finally, she found her voice again. "I...I had to call...to say I'm, uh, sorry." She smacked her forehead in frustration. "I'm sorry for dragging you into my mess. You deserve better." She choked out, "Please find someone better."

She moved to hang up, never hearing his plea of "Helga, wait!" as she slammed down the phone in tears again.