Hello here is the new chapter for Disease and I hope you enjoy it. This fan fiction is almost finished, I suspect only two or more chapters and it will be done.

Hey Arnold does not belong to me.

Please enjoy and review.

New Beginnings

"I'm sorry Arnold."

He sighed, how he wished he could just have a moment of peace and quiet, just a few moments alone with his thoughts and figure out exactly how to move on with his life. Talk was cheap, but beating an addiction like the one he had for Helga was not easy or pleasant, especially if he had to watch her find in other men what he had never given her, maturity and stability. It would shock him if he didn't end up crazier than he already was.

But he had to do it, for Helga and more importantly for himself.

He wanted to change, he wanted to become a man he could be proud of being.

Now if everyone would just stop bothering him…

"I know Gerald."

"I really… really thought you knew!"

He should have known, he would have known if he hadn't been buried in his own sense of self-importance and denial. He had always been a goody-goody little boy and now look at him.

He had become someone no one could be proud of, he had lost Helga and had no one to blame but himself. He was aware of all this, he was tired and sad and he longed to be with Helga, to prove to her that he could be the person she needed but he knew he wasn't ready. To immature, to dense, to selfish…

But did Gerald really had to keep reminding him of how stupid he really was? And even more in that really sympathetic tone, filled with pity and in a way that made Arnold imagine that Gerald expected him to break down at any moment in a sobbing, bloody, beaten-down pathetic mess… Actually he wasn't very far from the truth, but if was going to collapse and cry like a baby he would rather if there wasn't an audience.

Could the conversation actually get any worse?

"Here you go Shortman."

And now he was pressing raw meat to his face… again.

He felt the weight of his Grandpa sinking down on the couch next to him and opened his eyes. Gerald was sitting in front of him with an expression of such concern and pity that Arnold felt physically ill for a moment.

That was his brother and sitting there and beside him was the only fatherly figure he had ever had, and he could hear his Grandma in the kitchen preparing them a snack and hot chocolate to make him feel better. This was his family, they loved him, they were concerned for him and they didn't know what was happening or what to expect from him. They were waiting for him to make a move, they didn't know how he would react so they were waiting for him to make the first step, to finally trust in them the way he had done so many times before.

It wasn't only the connection between him and Helga that had been strained he realized.

All of life, every time he had had a problem it had been in these people he had confided in, he had sought their advice, their insight or just their comfort. Why had he ever shut them out? What the hell had he been thinking when he had let the disease of his own ignorance mixed with the passion and obsession that he never knew he had, fester and control him only to finally come out as anger and selfishness, enough to push away what was the greatest support he ever had.

He needed them, he was still so foolish that he couldn't do this on his own.

"I really thought you knew…"

His voice was sad, as if Gerald thought he had cursed him instead of pulling his head out of his ass.

"I know. I was an idiot not to have noticed it."

"Not so much as an idiot as in dense, Shortman. Like a little brick wall."

"Thanks Grandpa, really."

"Don't feel so bad Arnold, you've always been kind tick when it comes to that girl. Well I still remember when you just a boy and you poured paint on her as payback, anybody could see where that was going."

"We couldn't Grandpa."

He felt a little better at Gerald's defense, he supposed nobody likes to be the only fool in the room.

Really who could have predicted it? Who could have possibly seen that in the middle of all those fights, arguments, that in the dance he and Helga had been dancing since they met was this amount of wild, unrestrained desire, such maddening passion. He took in his surroundings and felt a bit of the emptiness that had created the moment he realized that he had lost Helga. A part of him was missing.

If Helga were here…

If Helga was here she would have laughed and mocked him for his stupidity till steam started flowing from his ears and pull him out of the ditch of self-reproach, shame and confusion he was currently stuck in. If Helga was here he would already be trying to move forwards even if it was just to prove to her that he could. If Helga was here…

But she wasn't.

So he was just sitting on his couch, with a steak in his face and missing her with every atom on his body. The beast was silent in mourning and pain and he almost craved the passion and madness that had moved him before, for this emptiness and loss of purpose was so heavy and frightening that he could almost swear that it was squeezing the air out of his lungs.

How do you move forwards from such a heartbreak?

How do you stop the mourning of a relationship that had never even begun?

How do you live with so great mistakes?

He was lost.

"Of course you couldn't! But you don't get to be my age without learning a few things, to my well-trained eyes you and that Pataki girl were like an open book. Besides I have years of experience in dealing with girls that drive you crazy. And I'm not your Grandpa!"

He snorted, he just couldn't help it.

Although he did not doubt his Grandpa's experience in handling hum… unusual women, he had trouble comparing his more eccentric Grandma to the passion and ferocity that was Helga.

Once again he became distinctively aware of the pain and emptiness inside of his body. It was no longer like the horrible stabs of sharp pain that had tormented his body when Helga said the words he already expected to hear, this was like waves, one crash after another of gentle and persistent pain reminding of what he had done and who he had lost.

He focused on pulling himself back, of not suppressing his pain but also not thinking about it, it was a tricky thing to do but he just had to keep saying to himself: I know it hurts, it's horrible and lonely but just keep moving forwards, you promised her you would so just keep going.

Keep going.

Keep going.

"You don't believe me, do you Shortman? Well I'll show you!"

He and Gerald exchanged a look of confusion as the old man ransacked the living room until, at last, he returned with an old and battered book that Arnold immediately recognized as the family photo album.

"Well take a look at this you ninnies."

He slammed the book at the coffee table and open it at the page with a familiar picture on it.

"Grandpa that's your class picture, you showed me that already, when you told me about you and Gertie."

"Who's Gertie?"

Frustration was rising at an alarming rate, and it took constant reminder that he needed his friend and family to face the times ahead and that their intentions were to help him and not annoy him to keep his temper in check. But he heard this story before and the advice of following his instincts was useless in this context since all his instincts wanted was to go back to Helga's, take her in his arms and beg for another chance.

Apparently his instincts didn't get the message that Helga was off limits.

"Gertie treated Grandpa the way Helga treated me when we were kids." He explained quickly eager to get this awkward and frustrating conversation over with.

"So she's some past version of Helga?"

"Basically…"

"Hey who's telling the story here?"

He sighed he could feel his pulse beating in his forehead, it was headache in formation, pulsing and stabbing pain that made his abused nerves stand on edge.

He was tired and hurt and he wanted to go up into his room and wallow in his misery in peace and quiet, but he stayed because as much as wanted to be alone he needed to have someone by his side, he needed their sympathy, their friendship and their love to become who he wanted to be.

So he had to have patience, he loved these people so he would give them all the patience he could muster, even though he was just so tired.

"I'm sorry Grandpa."

"Alright just don't interrupt me again, I'm an old man my stories are all I got. Now look at Gertie, look closely."

He looked at the picture it was of a little girl, about eight or nine, arms crossed and back straight, he could not see the color of her hair or eyes since the picture was black, white and yellowed with age but although the mischievous smile and twinkle in her eyes were different from the glare and smirk he knew so well there was a resemblance, they were two peas in a pod. She was like Helga, a little snake that seemed to worship chaos, and looking at the little devil he did not envy his Grandpa's childhood at all, he could still recall all the stories his Grandpa had told him about the infamous Gertie.

Looking at that face he winced.

No, he did not envy his Grandpa at all.

"Grandpa I know this story. Gertie tormented you and you followed your instincts and everything turned out fine."

He should have followed his feelings, he should have stopped being that immature little boy that dreamed of a fairy princess. He should have opened his eyes to the truth instead of lying to himself, he should have given in to his instincts instead of burying himself in sweet girls that he thought he wanted, ignoring his passion for some belief that he had to be in love with a sweet perfect girl and not with the real, amazing Helga.

He looked at the photo, of the girl so different from Helga and yet so similar. As alike they were in essence, that wasn't his Helga, that wasn't the grin he sought in the faces of every woman he met, those weren't the eyes that had looked at him all his life with a mixture of irritation and affection. This wasn't who he wanted, she looked like Helga but it wasn't her, it wasn't who he longed for.

He missed that grin, he missed those eyes, he missed her, and he even missed being that oblivious little boy that had unknowingly held the greatest joy of his life in the palm of his hands and had foolishly thrown it away. If he could turn back time he would have done things so differently, he would have been honest with himself from the very beginning and asked Helga out on a date, he would have treated her the way she deserved, like the most precious person in his life and then they could have grown up together instead of now when he would have to walk the arduous path of life without her.

"No! Look! Doesn't she remind you of someone?"

He looked at that face, indeed there was something familiar in her face, something very familiar, in the lines of her face, in the nose and in the shape of her chin, and he knew he had seen this face so many times before but where? It was one of those times where you were so used into seeing someone in a certain way that some change could make them unrecognizable.

Not to mention that as he gazed at those mischievous eyes and devilish smile all he could think about was Helga and the empty place in his soul.

His Grandpa looked him expectantly but he had no answer to give, he looked at Gerald who looked as perplexed as he was.

"Oh for Goodness sake Arnold! Don't you recognize your own Grandma?!"

Huh?

His hand flew to the book, reaching it a split second before Gerald's. Pulling the book closer to him until the yellow dust- covered page was inches away from his nose. He felt the heat of Gerald's cheek on his right as they both starred at the image of the little girl. Slowly the puzzle pieces came together, the chin and the nose suddenly made perfect sense and the veil that kept that face so mysterious and strange was lifted, he wondered on how he could have missed it. The little girl was obviously his beloved Grandma, it was unmistakable!

"That's Grandma!"

"I don't believe it"

"That's what told you! Sheesh you are dense! That's me and your Grandma when we were nine, of course we had known each other for longer than that. Why the first time she put thumbtacks in my chair was when we were five…"

He smiled, and in his smile there was such fondness, nostalgia and joy that at that moment he seemed both young and old. The mixture between the young boy he had been the old man he had grown into was perfect. There was a time when he would have wondered at the sanity of anyone that would recall with fondness the time when a little girl made him sit in a seat covered with miniature nails but considering that he was currently longing for the time when spitballs would be flying in his direction like little wet heat seeking missiles, he guessed he could empathize with his Grandpa's feelings.

"So this morning when you told me that you've been in my place…"

"I've meant it in a much more literal sense than you imagined."

He looked at that class picture again, the little boy with a look of anger on his face and the amused mischievous little girl, so alike was the beginning and yet so different was the outcome…

Gerald was staring at the kitchen where a suspicious amount of bangs, shattering and maniac laughter was casting a serious doubt on the confection of their lunch. His face was not as shocked as Arnold had thought it would be but thoughtful and serious.

"So you're telling me that about eighty years ago you and Arnold's Grandma were like a young Arnold and Helga."

"Well I don't know about that… Quite frankly Shortman I've always thought you had it kind of easy. I mean spitballs and name calling are nothing! Gertie once tied me to a tree covered me in honey and then left me there for the bees and ants to find."

Gerald listened horrified to this tale while the old man's face made it seemed like it was the sweetest childhood story ever told, even Arnold who had already heard the story of the infamous Gertie several times before winced and glanced at the kitchen wondering in his mind about the depth of the mysteries of the female kind and the strange and painful ways they chose to show affection sometimes.

Or could it be that the love for kind-of sadistic women was a genetic trait?

He hoped with all his might it wasn't so, it was bad enough that he and his Grandpa had to go through it but he didn't want to condemn future generations to a childhood of petty insults and constant teasing and frustration, all for one crazy, unique, passionate and beautiful girl, that could drive him up the walls…

Gods he missed her!

"And you married her? After all that?! Why?"

Well at least he was taking the news better than Gerald was…

It wasn't an easy question to answer, to him it wasn't all that confusing but it was a difficult process to go through. The slow transformation of that little girl to a woman was accompanied by an equally transformation of the passionate anger and frustration the little boy felt for his tormentor into the feelings of passion and frustration a man felt for a woman.

It was a strange duality that always seemed to be at war inside his own body, it seemed so long ago that Helga had been that pig-tailed little girl, causing mischief and chaos and yet it every time he looked at her he couldn't help but remembering that little devil that had marked his childhood, memories and anger still so fresh on his mind.

It was so much simpler when they were young, there were boys and there were girls and each side called the other weird and icky but deep down it was really just titles and if questioned further no child could really tell what made boys and girls so different from each other. And that was especially true when it came to Helga, she was so rude, so violent and so unlike the other girls that when he had been nine it had taken actually constant effort to remind himself that Helga was not just one of the guys.

But suddenly things started to change, he didn't know who changed first, if he grew taller or if Helga's hair grew longer or if something had changed in the way he saw the world or maybe Helga just started to move in a different way but everything started to slowly change until suddenly, one day he looked at her paying her lunch in the cafeteria looking exactly like the day before that one, and the day before that, but that day something in his mind suddenly clicked and he thought:

Wow… Helga is a girl.

And from that point onwards it was all downhill, a slippery slope he couldn't help falling into.

While trying to ignore Helga had always been hard, now it was impossible, his entire boy had focused only on her presence, fascinated by it, addicted by everything that made her Helga. From tomboy and tormentor to the most intoxicating being on the planet, he had struggled to ignore the change in which he saw her and to force himself to despise her but in the end he had fallen, it was impossible to resist the pull she had on him.

So it wasn't hard to understand the evolution his Grandpa's feelings had suffered along the years, the struggle he had suffered had been the same he had experienced.

But where his Grandpa had prospered, he had failed.

He should have followed his instincts…

He felt his Grandpa squeeze his shoulder and he turned to regard the old man's patient face.

"I showed you this, to tell you things have a way to work themselves out. You just have to have hope."

He smiled, he couldn't help it the words warmed him, he didn't believe them of course. Right now hope was a faraway concept, he was too crushed by despair and the memories of a few hours ago, the expected refusal had done more damage than he had let his face show, and he was doing everything to keep it that way. As much as he loved his family, as much as he needed them to keep his sanity in the storm of his crazy emotions, this was something that he had to do own his own, no one could mourn for him, and no one could take his pain he had to deal with it. And when the time came when he finally let it go he would rather be alone so there would be no distractions, he would think about it, he would suffer and mull on it and by the time he was done he would feel a lot better.

He ate his lunch quietly in the kitchen, away from the other boarder's eyes, Gerald was his only company still throwing weary glances at his Grandma every time she went to get something in the kitchen. His Grandpa's stories could not be blamed for founding a new found respect and fear for the old woman, even with his past with Helga Arnold still had to wonder at the process his Grandpa had to go through when he fell in love with the person who once set a beehive on him.

He never imagined that one day he would think of Helga's torment as merciful.

Until this day he had never even been exposed to her true tenderness until this morning. He could still feel the residual warmth and tingle in his skin where she took care of him, he could feel the gentle pull on his hair when he had thrown up, and his arms itched to hold her again. He was no better than an addict craving another fix, he would do almost anything to be by her side again, to be the one she wanted once more. One more touch, one more taste, was it really that much to ask? He just needed one more, then he would move on he was sure of it. Temptation was running through his body, the monster whispering in a hateful voice that she had fought with Brainy to save him, it had to have meant something and he could use that to his advantage…

The second after he thought that he felt truly disgusted with himself, so much so that he wanted to dive into a bath of almost boiling water and scrub his skin until it was red and aching in hope the he could wash the thought away from him. So this was the greatness of his selfishness, the depth of his rotten urges, and so quickly did he forgot his resolutions that it sickened him. This is why he wasn't worthy of Helga, the fact that he had consider using his fight with Brainy as a way to try to drive a wedge between Helga and her boyfriend. God he really was a sick little bastard wasn't he?

Better to stay away, if he was like this it was better if there was no contact at all.

He held down to his Grandpa's words like a vice. Things will get better, he would move forwards and keep hope alive in his heart and things would look up, eventually.

A giggle by his side distracted him from his thoughts.

"I still can't believe Brainy kicked your ass."

"Oh shut up, Gerald."

No matter how lousy the beginning.

That night he had insisted that Gerald would not stay the night, his brother had spent the day by his side, comforting him in his own awkward way, but finally after dinner he had to put his foot down and after assuring Gerald innumerous times that he did a good thing by telling him his feelings, and that he would not try another stupid stunt without, at least, consulting with him first. Eventually he had to lure Gerald out of his home with the possibility that while he was still persona-non-grata at Phoebe's, Gerald had probably been cleared of all charges and if he left now he could still get to her house in time for a heartfelt reunion, he left although with many reluctant glances at his friend, Arnold remained firm.

As soon as Gerald was gone he bade goodnight to his family and quickly went up to his room. As soon as he heard the click from the lock, indicating his isolation all strength left him and slowly he dropped to the floor on his knees and the first tear escaped, followed by another and another and soon his sore, bruised face was wet. He made no sound and he didn't shiver or moved from his spot, he just stood there, staring at nothing, broken, he was broken and empty.

The mistakes he had made haunted him, tormented him and dragged his poor beaten soul out in the open to wallow in its pain. The words that had been spoken today cut him deeply even though they made no visible wounds, but it was that night in the country club that almost drove him to the brink of despair, his actions that night were unforgivable, the use of the FTi incident was disgusting, his words hurtful and that kiss, that cruel kiss was a scar he could never be removed.

And it sickened him on how he craved to feel her lips in his skin again. After all he done, he still didn't have the morality to want to stay away from her, even if it was for their own peace of mind.

He was so stupid… he was so selfish… he had made such a mess of things…

He was sick.

There he was, a broken figure on the floor, how long he stayed like this, with his mind stuck in this loop, he cannot say. At some point during the night cold started to seep into his bones and his sore and abused body began to complain of the ill treatment. When he finally got up, there was creaking in bones and a throbbing pain in his muscles, he felt like he had aged a hundred years in that spot, but he had no more thoughts to follow and no more tears to shed.

When at last exhaustion and sleep claimed his troubled mind, for the first time in many months he slept a dreamless sleep, not calm or peaceful but empty. He felt empty, he had lost all chances and now he had to rebuild it all again. Maybe this time he would build something better, maybe…

He woke up late, the sun was high in the sky and his clock indicated it was close to eleven in the morning, his alarm clock had been shut off and there was a tray of sandwiches and a glass of juice in a tray by his bedside. He smiled, he felt warm this morning, and he felt light. It was like last night his tears had taken a great weight off him and now he was free. Sure he still missed Helga and thinking about her and Brainy still made him angry and miserable but he felt better now.

He felt ready, ready to start anew. The path in front of him was a hard one to follow and he couldn't really tell where it might lead him but still it was the only one he could follow if he wanted to make amends for his mistakes.

He ate his lunch, washed and prepared for the new day.

He was going to make up for his mistakes. And he already knew where to start.

He picked up phone and dialed the number.

"Moshi Moshi?"

"Phoebe, its Arnold."

"Oh, hello." Her tone did not inspire much confidence.

"Listen I just called to say that I'm sorry. I'm really sorry for what I did and I beg you don't punish Gerald for my stupidity."

Nothing.

"Phoebe? Are you there? Listen I don't expect you to forgive me but you have to believe me…"

"You're a jerk." She interrupted.

He sighed "I know"

"You don't have any right to demand anything from her. After all she's been through she doesn't deserve another selfish jackass in her life. You hurt her, she's my best friend and you dared to hurt her."

"I know."

A pause.

He held his breath.

"Are you really sorry?"

"Yes! Phoebe if I had a chance I would take all back."

"I don't want to forgive you, but Helga called yesterday and if she willing to let it go then so am I."

"Thank you."

"And if you ever hurt her again and will use all my taekwondo skills to make you regret the day you were born."

"And I will let you."

He would, he had no doubt about that.

"So… do you forgive me?"

"I suppose."

"Is Gerald forgiven?"

"Oh Gerald was here last night."

That piece of news along with the change of her tone into one more cheerful made him so happy he almost laughed if he wasn't treading on such thin ice.

"He did? Did you guys talked it out?"

He knew he had better chances of knowing this if he talked to Gerald but he was so anxious that the question just slipped out. He really hoped he didn't drag Gerald down with him…

"Oh we talked about a lot of things…"

"Good."

"Did Brainy really (how do you say?)… kicked your ass?" there was a sadistic giggle in her voice.

"Goodbye Phoebe" he hung up.

Damn Gerald and his big mouth.

Every journey starts with a single step and I thought it would be more interesting if I focused this chapter on Arnold's beginning instead of just jumping the time frame until he was a mature human being. Besides when you're turning over a new leaf the beginning is (to me) the hardest part.

I hope you enjoyed yourselves and till next time.

Please review.