Hello again! I know, I know it's been ages since I updated but trust me is not because of laziness or lack of interest, I love writing if I could I would write the whole day. But first of all I didn't have a computer for two weeks and second I'm drowning in work. So thank you for your patience I will try to be quicker but I make no promises.

Thank you to all the people who reviewed the story, you guys are the best.

I apologize for any grammatical and spelling mistakes this story has.

I do not own Hey Arnold!

Chapter VI: It's all so quiet

It was all a blur.

He remembered noticing on how strong Brainy was for someone so scrawny and then instinct had taken over. The punch in his gut had been painful but a blessing none the less, it had finally granted him the permission to let loose and do what he'd been dreaming of since he saw him in that staircase, in a position he clearly didn't belong.

He wasn't thinking, there was literally no rational thought in his brain. Only instinct was present, pain and exhilaration were mixed in a tantalizing tango, making him feel giddy yet focused. Pure adrenaline was pumping through his blood, is senses awakening to such a height of sensitivity that it border on painful. He could see it, where to strike, when to duck, he feel the tension of the moment in his very skin, and smell the blood that was running on the side of Brainy's mouth.

The pain was there, in his stomach, on his right foot, in the eye that Helga had hit before… His body ached and complained, he was tired, he was in pain, his body begged for a break, just a few seconds of peace but he monster was unsatisfied, for Brainy was still standing, so it urged on; punch, duck, hit, dodge, in a dance that had been imprinted in the body of every animal since the beginning of time.

No longer men, no longer boys, no longer people, just animals…

His fist connected with Brainy's stomach and for a second he could feel his ribs, hurting his already bloody knuckles, but he rejoiced in that small pain.

The attacks continued, fist flew, grunts, screams, obscenities making the way out of bloody mouths and aching jaws, the worse was that he no longer knew who was speaking if him or Brainy, both voices were so rough, so animal-like it was hard to tell them apart. It was getting harder to see, everything was becoming so blurry, the world was tipping over and the smell of blood was making him dizzy but still he kept his legs firms and his fist up.

He couldn't fail, not now, not with him but his body was failing him, he tried to keep going. In some part of his mind to lose to Brainy would prove that he was not worthy of Helga. It was childish thought he knew, Helga was not a prize to fight over, and she was no soulless object to squabble for. Helga, so full of passion, so wild and independent deserved better to be treated like that, she deserved better than both of them.

But that didn't mean he going to stop, he was in too deep, too lost in the darkness to bow his head to reason. So he kept going punching, kicking and swearing, diving deeper into the mud hopping somehow that would come out clean…

Everything was becoming so difficult…

Everything hurt…

His stomach, due to the blows and the smell, was starting to churn and keeping his breakfast inside was becoming a battle of his own, is face was probably becoming a swollen purple mess aching as it was and he becoming dizzy, so dizzy…

But still he kept going.

Why? This fight made no sense, he had already lost a long time ago, he had lost years ago when he chose to ignore Helga's feelings and his own. So why continue? Even if he won nothing would change, Helga would just despise him for beating up Brainy and what would that do to help him? Nothing. He had nothing to gain with this fight.

But then again he really didn't have anything to lose.

In the mist of all his mistakes and shortcomings, all of his stupidity and denial all he had done had been to thrust himself into a dark void and now he had no choice but to keep going.

In this empty Hell all he could do was keep walking hopping there would be some light at end of the tunnel.

Why did things turn out like this?

Another blow to his stomach had him falling to his knees, he struggled to get back up again but his legs caved in immediately. He still wanted to fight, the monster was unsatisfied, his blood was craving to hurt that repulsive creature and to make him pay for all the lies he said. But his body… his body, so weak and pathetic was failing him.

Suddenly pain exploded from the side of his head, his vision that had been blurry and getting dark suddenly exploded in light and stars only to face back into darkness a few seconds later. The pain was so great, and he felt so empty.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

He was so dizzy that it took him a while to process that voice in his head and when he recognized it he felt his heart drop all the way to his feet.

Why?

Why her? Why now when he was at his lowest?

Everything was so fuzzy but he could make out her form standing next to him and making angry gestures at Brainy, he could also hear some sort of argument between them but he felt too sick to make out the words.

"Oh for Pete's sake Football Head!"

It was that nickname, that beautiful annoying nickname more that the feel of her warm hand on his shoulder that made him summon the strength to focus his vision and take in his surroundings. Brainy was gone, vanished without a trace and with him the dark monster had also retreated back to its lair in the deepest most primal part of his soul. And Helga, furious, one eyebrow Helga was kneeling next to him, hair disheveled, face pale and still a few breadcrumbs on her face, in fact she was still wearing her pink pajamas. She looked a mess but that just made him feel happier to see her so concerned for him.

There was also people looking on the scene, he noticed, not a lot but enough to make him feel extremely embarrassed and self-conscious. Helga followed his gaze and seemed to guess the cause of his discomfort, quickly her concerned face was replaced by that of the angry little girl that no matter how much they changed as they grew he had always associated with Helga.

"What the Hell are you losers staring at?! Show's over! Get on with your stupid lives!"

The few people on the street disappeared, quickly walking away looking at the ground, embarrassed at being berated by a seventeen year old. More comfortable now that she didn't have an audience he could literally see the tension sliding of her shoulders as the fierce warrior became once again the concerned friend. The look of concern in the big blue eyes was so intense, so strong that he turned his head away in shame, after all he done, after all he said there she stood worried about him.

He had never felt dirtier in his life.

"Come on Arnold."

He felt the tingle of her soft voice in his ear, and the warmth of her arm as it gripped his, pulling him up from the sidewalk, but he couldn't look at her. She was being so kind that he just couldn't summon the nerve to face her. If she had yelled it would have been better, if she had fought with his and mocked him he would have had the strength to defend himself, to fight back. But he was as helpless as a baby against that soft voice and gentle eyes.

As soon as she managed to pull him to his feet, he felt the world spinning at a tremendous speed, and he realized that his body had absolutely no strength left to walk on his own, staggering for a few moments a gave up and fell on the ground dragging an unprepared Helga with him. He felt horrible, she was trying to help him and he couldn't even walk on his own, he was so weak and so pitiful.

No wonder she chose Brainy…

Opening his mouth to apologize he felt his stomach give a violent lurch and closed it right back, the only way this day could possibly get any better was as if threw up on Helga.

He was in so much pain, physical, emotional. He didn't if he could take it…

Helga put his arm across her shoulders then looped her arms around his middle in a firm grip. With one huff and planting her feet firmly on the ground she raised them both on their feet and stood there for a moment trying to regain her balance while carrying most of his weight.

Unworthy idiot…

How could he even think about trying to win Helga back! Look at him! He was no longer the boy she had loved, the she believed that could never do harm. That boy of her dreams had been replaced by this bitter, foolish, wretched man he had become. How could he make up for all the years lost in his stupid fight against his own feelings?

Maybe she was better off with Brainy.

And now he felt like throwing up again…

"Arnold…"

Her voice pulled him out of his dark thoughts, she was so warm, so soft, and her smell was like a welcome home after a year away. He felt like he could fall asleep like this, leaning against her, just slip into the most peaceful slumber he had in years.

"Arnold listen… I can hold us up but I can't carry you into the house… I'm not strong enough. So I need you to help me, I need you to walk alright? I can hold you up but you have to walk."

Walk… Yeah he could do that… Just one foot… God he felt sick… One foot after the other.

"That's it. You're doing great Football Head! Now just climb the steps."

One foot after the other, slowly step by step Helga managed to take him from the street and into the calm quiet of her home, closing softly the door of the outside world.

The house was dark and silent, too silent he noticed. There was no TV blasting on Big Bob's soap operas or Mrs. Pataki's snoring, a glance to the kitchen confirmed his thoughts, one plate, one glass Helga was alone.

"Your… your parents?" He rasped.

"They're visiting Olga in Alaska, they're gone for two weeks."

The way she said that filled him with a deep sadness, for there was no anger in that voice or disappointment but also no joy at being left parent-free for two weeks, there was only the quiet placid acceptance of someone who had been disappointed so many times that she had become numb to the pain. She just didn't care anymore…

"I'm sorry."

I'm sorry they don't care.

I'm sorry you had to grow up like this.

I'm sorry I didn't realize it before.

I'm sorry I can't save you from it.

I'm sorry even you don't care anymore.

So many regrets and so much time wasted. A lifetime wasn't enough to describe what had been wasted in this house.

He should have seen it before, should have seen how miserable she was, how unkind the world had been to her. He had called himself her friend, he should have seen the signs, and there had been so many, he should have helped her, made her life better somehow.

He had spent his life helping everybody but the person who needed it the most.

He focused on her as she, with pushes an encouraging words, carried them up the stairs. She was strong, she had had no choice but to become so, life had made Helga strong and he admired her for it, it had always been a source of wonder to him on how Helga was different from others, on how even at a young age she talked with such authority that others just had to listen, how she walked with her head up high, knowing fully that she owed nothing to nobody.

But that life had also made Helga brash, angry and distrustful of the entire world. This life, this crappy unfair life had killed the innocence that every child should possess and that every adult should treasure, the idea that home was where you were always safe and beloved. Even he, who didn't even have the memory of his mother's face had a home with people he loved and who loved him back. Why didn't Helga have that?

"Why? It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does."

It matters, it should always matter. It mattered because Helga mattered, because she deserves better than this. He took in the dark, silent house, the walls filled with pictures of Olga like a shrine, and he imagined what it must have been like to learn to walk between these walls, with no warmth, no recognition and no chance to escape. How different Helga would have been if her family had been more loving? How much had her youth changed her from the person she could have been?

No one would ever know, the person she could have been had never existed, had never been given the chance to exist. The scars were there, eternal and painful but invisible to the naked eye, had left their mark on Helga's life, scaring it. It wasn't fair, Helga didn't deserve this.

He looked at the pictures on the wall.

No one deserves this.

Pushing, coercing, begging and fighting a now exhausted Helga was able to finally put him down on the bathroom floor, and as soon as he felt the porcelain coldness of the toilet the uprising of his stomach became too much, he only had time to bend over the toilet, so that he wouldn't dirty the floor before the sandwich he had for breakfast managed to find its way out again. He wanted a hole to open beneath his feet and swallow him whole for the shame he was feeling, of being so useless, so stupid. What the hell had he been thinking?

But then he felt a warm body pressing against his, and soft warm hands caressing his sore face so softly it didn't even cause any pain, pushing his hair back. She was whispering something in his ear, calm and quiet words of comfort, he couldn't understand most of them but he clung to them like a child hopping they would give him strength. He felt like he was going to cry, she was being so gentle.

When that was finally over she leaned him against the wall and cleaned his mouth softly, asking if he was alright so lovingly.

In her touch, in her voice, in her very appearance, messy hair, night-clothes and concerned expression there was such an impression of tenderness. The house was so quiet that every movement she made seamed to disturb the quiet calm of the very air as she rushed to open cabinets, darting in out of the bathroom.

In a minute she had placed by his side, bandages, ointment for his bruises, topical antibiotics, and gauze, he barely had any time to wonder at the speed in which she had completed her search he felt a cold sensation on his forehead, he didn't even had time to try to keep his manhood has he immediately let out a shriek at the sharp pain.

She snickered.

He glared at her but the effect was ruined by the fact that he was so happy, so deliriously, inexplicably happy that he began laughing, it made his sides hurt and he looked like a lunatic but he was so happy.

Being here with her, being cared for by her, having the privilege to be the target of all her tenderness and still having her mock him, like they belonged like this. It was like everything was finally right in the world.

No fire, no ice, no nightmares, no fear and no monster it just him and Helga laughing together and sitting so close to each other breaking the tomb-like silence of the loveless house.

He was so happy.

She was very close to him, slightly bending over him, her right hand pressing a piece of gauze dipped in water to his forehead and her face so close to his. There was no tension between them, other people might look on and believe that there would be sexual tension, the desire to throw everything to the wind and just follow the primal urges of the body but there wasn't. It was just them, being close to each other and feeling happy for being so. It was a quiet, precious happiness that made them comfortable with each other, made him aware that this moment belonged to them only and if it were anybody else in her place he could never be so free to act the way he was, the freedom to be a little crazy and not be afraid to show it.

Only with Helga could he feel so comfortable.

"You wouldn't laugh like that if you could see what you look like." She said trying to catch her breath.

"Really? What do I look like then?"

"Like Hell warmed over. I mean you were always on the ugly side but now…"

"I don't see you winning any beauty pageants."

It's true that Helga had grown into a beautiful woman, but still if he said she was the most beautiful woman in the world it would be a lie. He could see the faults, the powerful eyebrow, her body was a little too thin and didn't have Lila's curve's or Olga's fairy princess delicacy. But it wasn't about thinking that something is perfect, he realized, because those who put all their faith in perfection were eventually disappointed in the end.

Nothing was ever perfect, that's what made things real.

And what's wrong with some faults?

She was so close to him that he could feel her breathing, the soft exhalation of air tickling his cheek as she tended to him. Her movements softer now, slow and gentle has he always knew she was able to be. It gave him the time to watch her, take in her whole expression. The way she half-closed her eyes in concentration, the way she was biting her lower lip, or the way she huffed in irritation every time her messy hair covered one of eyes and she had to stop the cleaning of his wounds to push it back again. Helga might not be the most beautiful woman in the world, but he would never get tired of watching her, he knew at that moment that he could spend the rest of his life waking up to that face and never grow bored with it.

Gods Helga…

"You're an idiot Football Head."

I love you.

Finally he had admitted it, even when he had realized the truth he had not had the courage to admit it to himself. But in the quiet of this house, faced with her presence the thought had flowed out naturally, like it had been the most natural thing in the world. He had been a fool to fight it, it was scary to love Helga and he still wasn't exactly sure of why he loved her, he knew he hadn't expected it or want it but there it was, he loved Helga. It was a simple as that, it was a complicated has that.

Qualities or faults, tender or brash, rival or friend all of those things made her into Helga.

His Helga.

His friend, his enemy, his other, his rival and his equal, his first love and his last.

"I know."

Here she frowned, his face was taken care of and now she turned to his right hand, that was filled with cuts, she took it in her left, softly holding it as she put a new piece of gauze to clean it. He winced at the pain and watched as her gaze turned steady and sad, unable to stand he turned his attention back to their hands.

"What were you thinking? Why did you do this? You're supposed to be the one who remains calm, who always goes for the peaceful solution so I don't understand this. Why?"

He had never noticed Helga's hands before, they were surprisingly delicate looking. Long slender fingers, feminine looking, thin wrists, not a single flaw or imperfection just a tiny brown mole in the right hand's pinky. He had never noticed that tomboyish Helga had really feminine hands.

He could lie, say he didn't know, the fact was that he really didn't want to have this conversation, but that would just make him seem like a sullen child, sulking because he lost. So he focused on their hands and slowly wrapped his fingers around her wrist admiring its thinness and the softness of the skin.

"Brainy said some… things, lies all of them and I just snapped Helga. I just… I went crazy."

She was also looking at their joint hands fingers moving softly over is cuts, treatment forgotten. They were so close, foreheads inches from touching. He could feel her breath, her warmth there so close, so inviting. He was helpless to fight it, it would be like a leaf fighting the wind, he craved this… this blessed closeness, so peaceful, so quiet, and so good. Why had he ever tried to fight it?

He curled his fingers, lightly trailing the marks of the veins on her wrist and she sighed.

"What did he say?"

The motion of his hand on her wrist stopped. Those words, those disgusting lies still filled him with so much anger and hatred. He didn't want to say them, they filled him with repulsion and more importantly he didn't want Helga to consider them, not even for one second.

But he had to answer her, they were so close, speaking so freely to each other that he couldn't deny her the answers she deserved.

"He said…" he struggled to get the words out "…he said I don't care about you. That I felt pleasure at hurting you. It's a lie!"

He gripped her wrist tight, but not enough to hurt her or him.

"It's all lies Helga! I… I always cared about you, always."

Her right hand covered his, warm and soft caressing lightly.

"You have?"

He moved let go of her wrist to interlace their fingers.

"Always. Even when it seemed like I didn't."

He took a deep breath and looked at her. Green clashed with blue, two teenagers alone in a silent house, holding their breaths afraid that a single sound would shatter this moment, were waiting, hopping and fearing what would come next.

"It's you Helga, it's always been you."

Intertwined, just like their fingers. He didn't believe in fate, never in his life had he believed that there was some omnipresent being or energy writing their future, to him one was responsible for their own actions and consequences. But when he looked back on that rainy day when they had shared an umbrella, he had to wonder if it was really all coincidence? How could he imagine, so young and innocent he had been, what would they become, what she would mean to him?

It had been a million to one chance. But here he was… needing her, craving her, loving her.

They had been together for so long, ever since that first day of pre-school she had been such a relevant person in his life. She had bullied her way into his heart the way she has stomped the halls of P.S118, infecting with a disease that he could not cure. She was his other, is other side, his other half, they were so alike and yet so different. Lila had been right, how could he had ever considered willingly part with her.

He loved her it was as simple as that.

And so in the silence he waited for whatever might come next.

"Arnold we need to talk."

"I know."

"We can't run away anymore."

"I don't want to run away. I want to talk Helga, I don't want to hurt you ever again."

"You didn't…"

"Don't lie. Even if it is to make me feel better don't lie. I saw you crying, I… I'm so sorry."

"Why did you do it? That's the only thing I don't understand, you've never acted this way before. Why?"

He wanted to break away from her gaze, to look down in shame and retreat back to the comfortable silence. But they needed this, he had messed up so horribly and now he had to heal what he had injured, and he needed answers too. For once in their lives they both were going to be honest with each other.

They should have had this conversation eight years ago.

Well… no time like the present.

Well that is enough for now. I really want to dedicate an entire chapter to Arnold and Helga's heart-to-heart so I'm going to start working on the next chapter.

Please review! I can't stop stressing this. Getting feedback helps to keep me motivated. So please, even just to say good or bad is enough.

Till next time.