Author's Note: First of all, a big thank you for all of you who reviewed. I'm extremely excited for this story. It's going to be dark and twisted, but I really love writing it. Secondly, I'm so sorry for the delay. But I have a fairly good reason. I decided to go back to school! Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I'm proud of myself. I've been at a job I've hated for 10 years, so I finally took the plunge and decided I needed to go back to school to better myself and find a job I actually like. Unfortunately, between school and still working full time I don't have a lot of free time to write. Now that I'm getting into the grove of things, I hope to have more time write, because I have really, really missed it.

Summary: Helga and Arnold just started dating when the murders started. Now a year and half later there is a serial killer who has dubbed himself as The Watcher that homicide detective Arnold is desperate to catch. Reporter Helga is on the case too when she suddenly becomes The Watcher's next target. The stakes of making an arrest have never been higher. Hopefully Arnold isn't too late.

Story Warnings: This is about a serial killer. There's murder, violence, rape, stalking, and bad language. If any of these things make you uncomfortable or offends you, do not read.

Chapter Warning: This chapter has a scene that depicts violence.

The Watcher Chapter Two

The next morning Arnold woke up to find Helga's side of the bed empty. Realizing she wasn't in the master bathroom, he looked over at the bedside alarm clock he frowned. It wasn't even six yet. Out of all the wonderful things Helga was, being a morning person was certainly not one of them. Normally, she would stay in bed up until the last possible second. Yawning, he threw off the covers and pulled himself out of bed before tugging on the sweat pants he had discarded the night before, he only vaguely noticed that his shirt was nowhere to be seen.

He found Helga, wearing his shirt from the night before, in the kitchen pouring pancake batter onto the griddle. There was bacon already sizzling on one corner of the griddle. "Good morning." He hugged her from behind, placing a kiss on her shoulder. "What are you doing up so early?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, "I woke up about a half an hour ago and couldn't fall back to sleep. I figured I might well get up." Helga turned her head, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed. I thought it was the least I could do as a thank you for making me feel so good last night." Her cheeks blushed into the lightest of shade of pink.

"Mmmm…" His hands caressed her hips. "Pancakes for going down on you, sounds like I win on both ends." Arnold's breath tickled her ear as he leaned in close and whispered, "I like eating you out."

Helga sucked in a breath as her stomach flipped flopped and her cheeks blushed into a burning red. Even after a year and a half together Helga was still not used to Arnold's dirty talk. Honestly, she still found it completely bizarre. This was Arnold Phillip Shortman, he was supposed to some kind of virginal gentlemen. Except he obviously wasn't a virgin, but still, he was the one who was supposed to blush. Not her. But still, his dirty talk made her feel slightly confused and extremely turned on all at the same time. Despite facing away from him she smiled shyly. "You really shouldn't talk like that to me this early. It does things to me." For a moment Helga imagined her sitting the counter with Arnold's head between her legs while the pancakes burnt to a crisp behind her.

"Sorry." Arnold didn't sound apologetic in the slightest. "You just bring it out of me. I can't help it. You look hot as Hell in my shirt, by the way." He kissed her on the back of the head. "Do you want some orange juice or something?" He asked as he turned to rummage through the refrigerator in search of something to drink. Neither of them were coffee drinkers, so for breakfast they stuck with either orange juice, milk, or on cold days, tea.

"Orange juice sounds great. Thanks." She told him over her shoulder as he flipped the pancakes over, smiling at the fact they were a perfect golden brown color.

Arnold poured two glasses of orange juice before setting the table. "Do you need any help?"

"Can you just grab the blueberries out of the fridge?" She moved the pancakes and bacon from the griddle to a large plate, "Breakfast is ready."

"Looks delicious." Arnold commented as he rinsed a bowl of blueberries and popping one of them in his mouth before joining Helga at the table. Red berries were not allowed in the house. Ever since Helga hit puberty her strawberry allergy intensified to the extent that she was forced to carry an Epi Pen in case she ever came in contact with the berry. The allergy was so bad that Arnold no longer ate strawberries himself because after he ate a few when they first started dating he kissed her and she had a reaction. Though the reaction wasn't as bad as if she ate one herself, she still got hives and a swollen mouth. Arnold had felt horrible. Arnold, like his grandfather, couldn't eat raspberries because not only did they almost make him shit his pants, but gave him gas so bad that it shouldn't be humanly possible to produce that smell. Those were Helga's words. Not his.

"So why did you wake up so early?"

Helga shrugged, forcing a small, unconvincing smile. "I had a bad dream." Glancing up at him she sighed, "Don't give me that look. I'm fine. It was just a nightmare. I don't need to go see Doctor Faber and I don't need to talk about it. It was just a bad dream." She repeated, hoping Arnold would just drop the subject. She hated it when he fussed over her, especially something as trivial as a stupid nightmare.

Knowing full well it wasn't just a nightmare Arnold wanted to press, but he also didn't want to start a fight. Helga's nightmares had become less frequent in the past six months or so, but it always worried him when she had them. He still remembered how she scared the hell out of him the first time she woke up screaming from one of her nightmares. Though, he wasn't sure he could exactly call them nightmares when it was something that actually happened. Either way, her nightmares and their origins were a sore subject for her. Instead of saying anything he took her hand in his and gave it gentle squeeze while offering her a small reassuring smile.

"Are you looking forward to going out tonight?" Helga asked changing the subject as she squirted a good amount of syrup onto her stack of pancakes.

Arnold shrugged, "I guess. Even though you're the one who gets to drink tonight." He and Helga always took turns for who got to drink on nights they went out. That way things wouldn't carried away and they both didn't end up drunk and had to find a way home that didn't involve either of them driving. It was Friday night and the couple was meeting some coworkers for supper and a few drinks after work.

Helga rolled her eyes, "Come on, you got to drink last time. It's my turn." She nibbled on a piece of bacon. "Just do me a favor and please play nice with Spencer. I'm getting really tired of your dick measuring contest with him." She told him bluntly as she dug into her stack of pancakes. It was no secret that Arnold absolutely hated Spencer Thomas, Helga's coworker and lead anchor for Channel Six News. When Helga first started working for Channel Six Spencer immediately started to hit on her. She almost gave in too, after all it had been nearly a year since she had sex, but then she ran into Arnold and the rest was history. After she started dating Arnold Spencer quickly gave up, but there was still some lingering jealousy.

Arnold pulled his hand away and started aggressively cutting into his pancakes. "Why do you have to say shit like that?"

"Because you act all macho around him like you have something to prove. It's really annoying. I know you don't like the fact he used to hit on me…"

"You considered going out with him."

"Yeah, before you came along. It's not like he wanted to date me anyway. He just wanted a good lay and the only reason why I even considered it for a second was because it had been almost a year since I had sex. I was horny. Why do you think I slept with you that first day?" She grinned at him teasingly, "What kind of floozy do you think I am?" She asked, her bare foot poking his.

Despite his best efforts Arnold laughed, "Frankly I didn't think of you of someone who would use the word floozy." He took a drink of his orange juice. "You really know how to make a guy feel cheap. Having sex with me just because you wanted my body? I feel used." He feigned being upset.

Helga laughed, "Sorry Babe, I just can't help it. You were so hot that day and the image of you in your uniform was still fresh in my mind. Besides, you really, really have nothing to worry about. I'm not sure how to phrase this, but I don't find him remotely sexually attractive." She knew a lot of women found Spencer attractive, they had laughed over some of his 'fan mail' on more one occasion, but she was not one of them. He was a little too high maintenance for her taste. She was all for men wanting to look nice and presentable, but when he took longer than anyone else in hair and makeup it was a little bit of a turn off. "You on the other hand." She pointed to Arnold with her fork full of pancake, "You are sexy."

He grinned, "Well I do work out." He gave her knee a gentle squeeze, "I think we've established many, many times before I think you're sexy."

Helga giggled, "Yes that has been well established." She loved the way Arnold made her feel. He made her feel absolutely gorgeous, desired, and completely loved. There were so many times growing up where she didn't feel like she had any of those things. Her fingers caressed his, distracting herself from those thoughts. She had spent nearly the entirety of her childhood having a horrendously low self-esteem. Like the whole Chicago thing it wasn't something she liked to think about. It wasn't part way through her freshman year of high school, when she joined the school paper, she got the confidence boost she desperately needed and things changed for the better for her.

"Are you ready for your segment on Allison Mayer?" Arnold asked taking his last few bites of his pancakes.

"I am." Helga grabbed a small handful of blueberries and placed them on her plate, "My fingers are crossed that a new witness comes forward or there is some kind of new information. Her friends and family deserve some answers." She popped a few blueberries in her mouth.

"Well you can hop in the shower. You cooked, I'll clean." Arnold offered as he started to collect the plates from the table. It was another way they divided their chores to eliminate at least some of their fights. It was something they started to do shorty after moving in together. After their few first fights they decided they needed to make compromises.

"Hmmm…How about we both clean up kitchen and then we take our shower together." Helga paused, "You know, we really should be doing our part to conserve water."

Arnold barked out a laugh, "I think you just want to trick me so you can see me naked. Maybe use my body some more. Conserving water is just a cover."

This made Helga laugh, "Like I have to trick you to see you naked." She said with an eye roll as she loaded the dishwasher. "Do you have any complaints with taking a shower with me?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I'll wash yours if you wash mine."

Of course Arnold didn't have any complaints. Not really anyway. He didn't love the reason why she wanted to shower with him, she always got like this when the whole Chicago disaster started to weigh heavily on her mind. A part of her thought she could screw the memories away. A part of him wanted to refuse, tell her she needed to go see Doctor Faber, tell her to talk through her pain rather than use sex as a temporary fix. But that could lead to a fight. Besides, he couldn't help but enjoy the sex. Arnold liked to think of himself as a gentleman, but he was also horny. How could he resist being with Helga in that way?

The couple exchanged flirty glances as the finished cleaning up the kitchen. Arnold couldn't wipe the wide grin off his lips as she watched Helga remove her (well technically his) shirt once they reached the hallway to their bedroom. She walked the rest of the way naked and swaying her hips seductively.

After their shower Helga and Arnold got ready for work and went their separate ways, giving each other a kiss goodbye. The days passed by quickly. It was Friday and both Helga and Arnold didn't work weekends, unless something big happened, so they were looking forward to their days off.

Helga had gotten home first. After she parked in her spot in the two stall garage she grabbed her purse and cellphone and got out of her car. As she walked towards the door that lead to the house she went to put her car keys into her purse, but lost her grip and dropped them onto the garage's floor. As she bent down to pick them up her fingers brushed against the cement flooring of the garage. Before she could stop it she was back there, in that damn parking garage in Chicago.

Her eyes squeezed shut as tears formed at the corners, her hands were gripped around her keys so tightly they were leaving harsh, painful markings on her hand.

She could still feel his hand in her hair gripping the locks so tightly she thought for sure he was going to rip it out of her scalp. Her cheek was pressed violently against the cold cement floor as he struggled to put something over her mouth as she struggled to free herself from his strong hold.

"Helga?"

She almost screamed when she felt a gentle tug on her arm, helping her up from the floor. She hadn't even realized she was on her knees. She blinked looking up at Arnold, looking down at her concern etched onto his features. She hadn't even heard the garage door open or Arnold's car.

"Are you okay?" He asked as calmly as he could, though he could hear the waiver in his voice. He knew the answer. He had seen her have a flashback only a few times. Each was just as scary as the last. When Helga had one it was like she wasn't even there. Sure, her body was, but the blank look in her normally vibrant eyes was always disturbing.

"Arnold?" She asked in a small voice. It was then she realized she was crying. She threw her arms around his neck, holding on him tightly as she cried into his shoulder.

Arnold didn't say anything for a long moment, instead her hugged back tightly. His fingers stroking her hair as she cried. "It's okay. It's okay. It's going to be okay." He whispered, struggling to reassure himself, as well as her.

"I killed someone Arnold. How will that ever be okay?" She asked through muffled sobs. She was shaking now and Arnold held onto her tighter in attempt to calm her just a little bit.

"Helga…" He reluctantly pulled away from her a few inches, looking at her with sad eyes. "Look at me." He demanded softly, taking her cheeks in hands. His thumbs wiping away tears, "It was him or you. It wasn't your fault. You made the right choice. Do you need understand?" He asked. "It. Wasn't. Your. Fault. You did what you had to do. You know that, right? Deep down you have to know that."

Slowly, Helga pulled away. Her palms wiping away more tears. She nodded, "Yeah, I know." She sniffled, "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just having a hard time right now. I hate getting in these moods." She admitted. She forced a small smile, "I guess I do need to call Doctor Faber after all." She sniffled again as she entered the code into the keypad to open the house door.

"Don't be sorry. You have absolutely no reason to be sorry." Arnold's fingers toyed with her hair in attempt to comfort her. He set his briefcase down next to the door as he locked the door behind him and turned on the security system. "Do you want me to call everyone and tell them we won't be able to make it tonight?" He asked, already fishing out his cellphone from his suit pants pocket.

"No. Please don't. I want to go out tonight. I think I need it. You, know to take my mind off things." She slipped off her high heels, kicking them off to the side. She groaned once she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her eye makeup smeared from crying. "I'm going to call Doctor Faber's office and make an appointment. Then I'm going to wash my face, redo my makeup and change. I'll be ready to go in about a half an hour, okay?" She gave him a quick peck on the lips before heading off to call her therapist's office.

Arnold sighed heavily, making his way to their bedroom to change. He wished he could do more to help, unfortunately there wasn't much else he could do. He could only be there for her when she needed him. He shuttered thinking back when he had pulled his car into the garage and saw her on her knees, her head bowed down and she was shaking so much…

He hated thinking about all she went through. His stomach twisted as he thought of the night she first told him what exactly happened in Chicago…

They had been together for nearly two months now and Arnold was blissfully happy. He loved spending time with Helga. He loved talking to her and joking with her and the sex was mind blowing. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her.

It was a Sunday morning and there was rain pounding at the windows. Arnold had Helga's back pressed against his chest as he held in his arms as his thumb drew small circles up her arms. They had been awake for a while now, but neither of them made any effort to get out of bed, or move, or speak for that matter. There was a low rumble of thunder before Helga broke their silence.

"Have you ever had to kill on the job?"

The question surprised Arnold, feeling like the question came out of nowhere. "Umm, no. Fortunately I haven't been put in that position. I shot a guy once, but it wasn't fatal." He paused. "Why do you ask?"

"I have. Killed someone, I mean." Helga's voice was rushed, and she trembled as she spoke. "Back in Chicago." She clarified.

Arnold would have laughed if she hadn't sounded so serious. She had to be joking. "Is…Is this a murder confession?"

"No." Helga shifted out of Arnold's arms and turned so she was facing him. "He…Umm…It was self-defense. I was in my building's parking garage walking to my car to head to work. Then he was just there. He grabbed me and shoved me to the floor." A few tears escaped her eyes, "He was trying to force me in the trunk of his car…H-h-he h-had a knife. I don't know how it happened, but somehow I got the knife away from him." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "The next thing I knew the knife was in his neck and he was dead."

She had cried for quite some time. Arnold barely said a word as he held her as she cried it out. What could he say? So instead he just held her and did his best to convince her it wasn't her fault. The next morning while he was at work he used the station's resources to look up Helga's attack. It was very much against the rules to do so, it could have cost him his job, but Arnold didn't care. He had to know exactly what happened.

The entire attack had been caught on a security camera. He watched his computer screen intently as Helga walked towards her car. The man, who was later revealed as Glen Morris, was suddenly behind her shoving her down. Helga's purse and phone went flying out of her hands as tried to brace herself. Arnold could see Glen grab a fist full of Helga's hair smashing her face onto the cement flooring one, two, three times before grabbing something out of his back pocket.

It was rag soaked in chloroform. He pressed it against Helga's mouth and nose. Thankfully Glen thought chloroform worked the way it did in the movies and television shows. In reality it didn't work that way at all. Even better, Helga was able to calm herself down enough to figure out what he was doing. She pretended to go limp and as he dragged her towards his car's trunk. The moment he went to open the trunk Helga sprang into action and made an attempt to run away.

Again he grabbed onto her hair and pulled her back. That's when he pulled out the knife. There was more struggling and Glen lost his grip on the knife and it fell at Helga's feet. He went to retrieve it, but Helga was faster. As he lunged at her she held out the knife to protect herself and just so happened to stab him in the neck. He bled out in a matter of minutes.

The 911 call Helga made after was gut wrenching. She was barely audible she sobbed over the phone. "He's dead. He's dead. Oh, God. I killed him." Her words were still clear as day in his head.

There were nearly two hundred pictures that were submitted at evidence. There were many of the crime scene and pictures of Helga's batter face and bloody lip after the attack. Perhaps the most disturbing pictures were of the cabin. Glen's family owned a cabin about an hour north of Chicago and it became quickly apparent that was where he had planned on bring Helga. At the cabin police found rope, duct tape, and several sheets of plastic. There was a shallow, yet large hole dug behind the cabin. It was theorized that he was planning in murdering her and that was where he was going to bury her. There was no way to tell if there had been any kind of sexual assault planned.

In the days after the attack it was revealed that Glen Morris had been stalking Helga for weeks. His estranged wife, Lily, had emailed the news station Helga had worked at several times expressing concern over her husband's fixation on their crime scene reporter. His fixation on Helga. No one ever bothered to warn Helga of this. That ended in Helga winning a small lawsuit against the station.

Thankfully it had been a clear cut case. It was self-defense. Helga never even had to appear in court.

The only physical evidence left from that morning in the parking garage was a small scar on the inside of Helga's lower lip. One of her teeth punctured it during the attack. Her emotional scars ran much, much deeper. She had been diagnosed with PTSD within months after the attack. Though her systems had lessoned over the last year she still dealt with anxiety on a nearly daily basis.

He knew she knew Glen Morris's death was not her fault, but it didn't make the fact that she is the one what plunged the knife in his neck any easier.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head Arnold continued to change his clothes. He pulled on a pair of blue jeans and grabbed a grey shirt he knew Helga loved and slipped it over his head. He grabbed the book he had been reading from his bedside table and sat down on the bed and read while Helga finished getting ready.

"You ready to go?" Helga asked as Arnold reached the end of his current chapter.

"Yup." He answered as he dog eared the page and put the book away. He got a good look at her. "You look great." She was wearing a dark blue dress that reached a few inches above her knee. The dress made her blue eyes an even more intense blue. Her hair was flowing freely down her back and a slight wave to it. He took her hand in his, "Let's go. I'm starving."

TBC...

If you enjoyed, please review! I hope to have the next part much faster than it took me to post this one. For those of you who are reading my other stories, I plan on working on The Sister next, so stay tuned.