Whoooo! Guess who was able to update quicker then usual! And thankfully, this chapter isn't as long as the last one (hence why I could update quicker). Thank you funkyferret, cherryblossom and loonytunecrazy for the follows and favs!

I felt strange.

The small, transparent orb flickered in my hand, lighting up my room with a blue tint. Something was clouding my chest, but I forced myself to concentrate on the swirling ball of energy. It wasn't large, about the size of a baseball, but its light hit me squarely in the face and reflected in Nel's eyes.

Blue light streamed from the orb and spilled across the worn carpet. Shadows struck against the walls, but the light wrapped around Nel and I in a frenzied dance.

I kept my eyes on the orb, staring so hard that my gaze watered. An aching sensation started between my brows, one which began small, but eventually grew. The orb in my hand flickered, the light beaming brightly, before it vanished from my fingertips.

I sighed.

The night sky washed over my room and I reached over to flick on my lamp. I didn't look at Nel, but she must've recognised the expression on my face.

"One day, Helga," she said encouragingly. "One day you'll get the hang of it."

"Really?" I couldn't help asking.

She didn't respond, only smiling at me wistfully, and I sighed, setting back down next to her. She watched as I hugged the cushion to my chest.

"It's been so hard to be Blue Jay without them," I admitted, laying my chin down in the softness. "I've got them back now, sure, but . . . they're so weak. Why?"

I looked back at her, hoping for an answer, but she turned away and shifted her weight. I knew that her guess was as good as mine when it came to my powers.

"They are mental based, Helga," she eventually said. "They depend on your concentration and discipline. Having your powers back doesn't guarantee that they remain flawless."

I nodded and faced my shut door. My bed was no longer shoved against it. Once she had managed to calm me down, Nel made me move it back to its original spot. She'd explained that I couldn't sleep in it like that and she wasn't allowing for me to skip out on tonight. So far, there hadn't been any attacks and I needed to take advantage of that. But clothes and sheets littered the floor, concealing the green carpet from our eyes.

I think she wanted me to respond to what she said. But I kept my gaze lowered over my hands, mentally tracing over the new bandages that covered my knuckles. They had managed to stop bleeding after they'd been re–wrapped and thankfully the healing process was already beginning.

"I suspect it's like a muscle," Nel added, her voice tense now. "You have to train yourself and build up your strength. It shouldn't be rushed."

Again, I didn't respond.

Chills rose as a tense silence settled over us. It was one where the tension was so thick that you could ear it. Something unspoken hung over us, something I didn't even have to ask about—I knew what it was.

But I had no interest in discussing it any further.

I could see, from the corner of my eyes, Nel opening her mouth to do exactly as I feared when the door suddenly opened. We both jumped, turning to an extremely dishevelled Miriam stumbling in.

Screeching, Nel dived behind my back and out of Miriam's sight. I lowered my hands to the floor and gawked up at her.

What was she doing here?

Miriam looked worse then usual. There were dark stains on her dress and bags underneath her eyes that looked like bruises. Her hair was unkept, like she'd been running her hands through it, and her clammy fingers shook around the door handle.

"Miriam? Why'd you barge into my room?" I demanded. She looked up, bleary–eyed, like she only just realised I was here. "Remember that discussion we had about knocking?"

"I—I know, Helga," she stuttered, looking around. Her eyes darted around the room, blinking rapidly like she was standing in a fog.

I sighed. Did she even remember why she came here?

"Why're you here anyways?" I asked in a quieter voice. I honestly jut wanted to get to the point to get this over with. I was pretty tired and I'd had a huge day today; Nel was right, I had to take advantage of the lack of attacks tonight.

"I, um," she blinked then shakily adjusted her glasses. "I—I don't a–actually remember. Erm, Helga?"

"Yeah?"

"S–Since when do we have a cat?"

Her words hit me like punches to my stomach.

Nel and I both stiffened, our backs tensing up like arrows, as Miriam's gaze swept over us. What the fuck? How did she know?

Sheepishly, Nel poked her head out from around my waist and Miriam raised her eyebrow at me. Honestly, I wasn't sure how to react—the one time Miriam pays attention and its to something I'm trying to keep from her.

Great.

Miriam's mouth twisted to the side. "Honey, y'know B doesn't like them."

Yeah, but since when did I give a damn about him?

"Should I just chuck her out then?" I snorted. I could feel Nel giving me a sharp and panicked look but I ignored her. I knew what I was doing. "Look, I was walking from the bus and she just followed me and hasn't left since. She's not harming anyone and Bob's not allergic, so I don't see the harm in keeping her. Besides, its not like either of you come in here."

It was harsher then intended, but it got the point across. Nel was glaring holes straight into my back, but I didn't care. I was arguing for this dumb cat to stay in this house, she could at least be grateful for it.

Miriam gave me an oddly suspicious look, which surprised me. Her eyes looked focused, she almost seemed stable.

But I stared back at her defiantly. Miriam, as far as I was concerned, hadn't given a shit about what I did my entire life. And Bob even less so. Bringing a cat into my room, a place they never entered, hardly felt like it was pushing the boundaries.

As these thoughts, possible talking points, ran through my mind, her eyes slowly softened. Her features relaxed as the doubt slowly vanished and she released a sigh.

"Alright, Helga," she nodded. Then, looking back to Nel, she gave her a shaky smile. "What's her name, then?"

I blinked, utterly floored.

"Uh, wha—" From around me, Nel and I exchanged confused glances. Yeah, even she found this beyond bizarre. "Um, Nel."

Turning back, I was again surprised when her mouth curved into a soft smile. "It's a nice name," she admitted softly.

"Uh . . . thanks," I said awkwardly. Well, this hadn't been what I'd expected to happen today. Talk about a weird day. "Erm, was that all?"

"Well, no, but I just can't—oh!" she snapped her fingers. "Actually, honey, I wanted to ask how you've been lately."

. . .

. . .

What.

Okay, now I knew something was up. It hadn't been that long since Miriam had been stumbling through the kitchen, drunk off her ass and slurring like crazy. She barely could hold herself up, much less look at me, but now she was sober and asking strange questions?

Bizarre.

". . . Why?"

"Well, there's been a lot of attacks lately," she replied, massaging the back of her neck. "And they've been hard on all of us."

Had they though?

I mean, yeah, Nel and I (well, mostly me) had been busting our asses trying to keep up with these stupid attacks. But . . . Bob and Miriam? They hadn't even noticed it. I wasn't hanging around the house anymore, I came back at random hours and I knew that I carried myself differently now.

My restless nights hung over my shoulders and there were different bruises on my skin every day. Some people at school had noticed, but not Bob or Miriam.

"Uh, well, yeah, I've been fine," I told her calmly. But then it occurred to me that perhaps I sounded too calm. "Uh, for the situation, that is. Obviously, its beyond weird, but I haven't gotten caught in the heat."

I could feel Nel's unimpressed stare and blushed. Hey, this was a bizarre scenario I had never dreamt I'd been apart of, sorry my skills weren't exactly kicking in right away.

Thankfully, Miriam didn't pick up on my less than stellar performance and simply nodded.

"That's good. But Helga, I—" she broke off, hesitating. "I just keep getting this feeling that something's going on with you . . ."

My brain stuttered for a moment. Her comment was so out of character, so far off what I knew of her, that I just kind of stared at her. Nel stiffened from behind me, looking between Miriam and I.

And Miriam—she seemed oblivious to it all. She cradled her chin between her index finger and her thumb, looking down in thought. Like, what she was about to say might come across as silly.

Oh, don't tell me—my heart throbbed in my throat. Do not tell me that perhaps . . . Miriam had . . .

"Have you been doing your homework, honey?"

Never mind.

Nel and I both deflated with relief and her fur brushed up against my waist.

Dodged that bullet, at least.

Still, I couldn't help the flurry of disappointment. A part of me—a very small part—had hoped that maybe she had worked it out. Granted, I don't think Miriam was one to keep secret, but it would've been nice to have her put together the pieces.

But what was I kidding? For her to do that, she'd have to actually pay attention to me. Something I knew she wouldn't. I don't know why it bothered me so much, that her guess was so off. It lined up with the person I'd known for the sixteen years of my life.

Pushing down that heaviness that plagued my mind, I organised my features into something stoic and stood from the ground.

"Okay, Miriam," I said and crossed the room for the door. She reached for my shoulder as I passed her, but I shrugged her away. "I think it's time to go."

"But honey—"

"Look, I dunno why you suddenly care so much about my wellbeing," I said flatly, holding the door wide open, "but I can guarantee you everything is a–okay."

Over Miriam's shoulder, I could see Nel glaring at me from her spot in front of the bed. I rose my eyebrow at her, cool and unaffected. Oblivious, Miriam brought her quivering hands to her chest as her face crumbled.

"So, you're okay then?" she asked quietly.

I nodded.

"And nothing's going on?"

Again, I nodded.

Miriam fell silent, shutting her mouth as her narrowed eyes scanned my face. I turned away from her, clearing my throat, and not–so–subtly motioned towards the door.

I felt her sigh moreso then I heard it as she trudged forward. "Okay, Helga—"

And then my stomach growled.

All gazes snapped toward my stomach, which sounded like the loch ness fucking monster. I blushed and wrapped my arms around it, mentally sending it extremely colourful curse words.

"Have you eaten today?"

I looked up at Miriam, her forehead creased as her gaze raised from my stomach up to me.

I rolled my eyes and took a deep, calming breath.

And another one.

Okay, just one more.

"Look—would you just get out already?" I quickly shoved Miriam out the door and slammed it shut before she could turn. But when I spun around, I was met with Nel's extremely unimpressed glare. "What?"

"That is not the way you should be speaking to your mother," she simply told me.

I rolled my eyes at her attitude. "Look, she's not my—"

But, of course, we were interrupted by banshee–like shrieks which ploughed through my shut window. Nel grimaced and I sighed, ignoring the sudden throbbing in my knuckles.

"So much for getting a goodnight's sleep, then," I muttered.

"Helga—"

"Not tonight, Nel," I interrupted her. Because I knew what it was that she wanted to bring up. "Please?"

Nel's heated glare cooled into astonishment. Hell, I was taken back. Sure, I may do a lot of things, but pleading had never been one of them.

But I stood by my resolution.

And Nel seemed aware of it. She reluctantly yielded a nod as she sighed defeatedly.

"Cool," I nodded then crossed the room to slide open my window. The night air was crisp, hitting against my cheek like warm fingers. When I turned back to Nel, it was with a forced grin.

"Now, let's go kick some alien butt!"

It was nearly four when we got back.

The sky, I noticed, had considerably lightened as I climbed up the wall. It was no longer black, but now a deep blue which hung over the dew–soaked ground. My muscles throbbed as I slowly pushed the window back up.

The house was dead asleep. Obviously. Who the hell would be awake this early in the morning?

Nel, who had been hanging onto my shoulder, slipping through my window and gave me an expectant look. But my shoulder blades were burning as I pushed myself through.

"Stupid—" I gritted my teeth. "Stupid Mutant."

My bones were shaking, and I quickly lost my balance, tumbling through instead. Nel hissed and jumped out of the way as my body came down in a jangled mess.

"Ow."

Muttering the magic words, a quick flash overtook my vision then vanished, leaving me as Helga. But now I was even more exhausted. The toll of my injuries hit me full force and I struggled to get back onto my feet.

I slogged over to my vanity and planted my hands onto the desk. There were scrapes along my arms, a new bruise forming over my cheek and some of cuts along my knuckles had reopened.

"Fucking Mutants," I muttered in a breathless way.

But then I did a double take when I noticed the sandwich sat on my desk. I fell silent—I hadn't made a sandwich, I hadn't had the time. Curiously, I picked up the plate and held it to my eyes, lifting one of the bread slices to examine the contents.

It was peanut butter and mayo.

I grimaced, placing it back onto my vanity.

Miriam must've put it there, when I'd been out. Only that woman could combine those spreads and call it food. Geeze, even sandwiches were beyond her skills.

And yet . . .

A warmth blossomed in my chest.

"Helga."

I looked up into Nel's glower reflecting in the mirror.

"No, Nel," I frowned, answering her unspoken question. I had just gotten back from a tough fight; I was injured, and I hadn't been sleeping right for days. I absolutely refused to have this discussion with her.

"But, Helga—"

"She's not becoming a Guardian."

My eyes found the dark bruise along my cheek, which hurt to touch. I was doing the right thing, I told myself. It was Blue Jay's job to save people. And she was included.

"Not if I have anything to do with it."

Tick. Tick. Tick.

My head jolted upwards and my eyes snapped open. For a moment, I sat there, utterly confused and unsure of where I was or why I was here. But when I caught sight of Lila, sitting next to me with her nose buried in a book, and Gerald, across from me and pretending to read, it all came back.

Right—we were in Lila's living room, a small but cosy area. The walls were covered in an endless sea of beige and the floors caked with warm–toned rugs. A small TV was against the right wall, facing the front of a plush, purple couch.

We were sat at a small mahogany table, which was smothered with a white lacey cover. There were textbooks between the three of us and we each had one to ourselves. But I knew, from the glazed look in his eyes, that Gerald wasn't actually reading anything.

I covered my mouth to hold back a yawn as my stomach shifted uncomfortably. Criminy, hopefully we'd finished soon, I hadn't eaten since last night.

Earlier this morning, Lila had texted me to explain that school had been cancelled for the day due to the recent attacks. It was selfish, but I couldn't stop the rush of relief I felt when I found out. I'd been so tired, I didn't think I could even make it to school today. But Lila had pointed out that now we only had one day to finish our assignment, so reluctantly I agreed to come over.

The back of my mind was foggy as I glanced at the empty chair beside Gerald. Lila had said that both boys were joining us, but Arnold had yet to show up. When Gerald had arrived ten minutes after me, he'd said that Arnold had texted him on the way and told him that he'd be a little later.

But that'd been over half an hour ago.

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask Gerald more. A large part of me wanted him here even if I said something stupid. His beautiful green gaze always filled me with such warmth. But I knew that Arnold's absence was probably for the best.

He would only distract me, which would mean I'd have to stay back longer. And I had a heavy set of training after this. Now that my powers were back, I was even more determined to master them.

Nel had seemed reluctant when I told her that I couldn't go straight away today. Secretly, I hoped she would decline my plans, that she would pull me from studying like an overbearing mother, so I could skip over any potential awkwardness. But apparently that dumb cat was useless when it came to matters such as this, as she believed that my education was very important to brush up on.

"You're not a child, Helga," she'd told me as I'd scowled out the window. "Graduation isn't that far off—you should be thinking of your future."

Says the one who had thrown me head–first into this world of monster–slaying.

Lila's front door suddenly flung open and we all jumped, looking up to a panting Arnold. He was slightly dishevelled, his sleeves shoved up to his elbows as he leaned up against the door. But he managed an easy–going grin, which Gerald returned, relief washing over his face. And, for whatever reason, Lila turned to me with a smirk that made me nervous.

"Finally, man," Gerald grinned, bumping his fist against Arnold's.

Arnold plopped his back down and settled into the spare chair next to me. I stiffened when his arm brushed against mine. I moved my hands beneath the table, fiddling with the fingerless gloves which hid my bruises from the world.

Thankfully, Arnold didn't notice. His eyes went straight to Lila, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"Sorry, I'm late," he breathed.

Lila shook her head with a smile. "It's fine, Arnold."

My fingers were shaking, and I lowered my gaze back to my book, wishing I could just sink into oblivion. I hadn't seen Arnold since he said—well, that thing. I could feel my cheeks heating up and inwardly sent out many, many curses to whatever watched over me.

I could feel as Arnold turned over to look at me. A strange silence enveloped the table, one that made me want to claw my face.

Arnold cleared his throat and I knew I couldn't hide any longer. I reluctantly looked up to his bright smile.

"Hey, Helga," he greeted warmly.

His eyes were so soft when they locked with mine. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't bring myself to. My heart somersaulted and ran amuck as butterflies burst in my stomach. I wanted to reach across and stroke his face, to trace those delicate freckles. And I knew that—without looking—Lila was just soaking this shit up.

So, clearing my throat, I turned back to my book to hide beneath my hood.

"Football head," I muttered.

There was a slight pause, one that had an edge to it, as Gerald's gaze shifted over to me. But it was drenched in annoyance, the tension was unmistakable. I rolled my eyes, biting on the urge to tell him to just choke on it.

Thankfully, Lila jumped in to change the subject.

"So," she said, leaning forward with one of her dazzling smiles. I knew it was dazzling from the way Arnold sucked in his breath and straightened his posture. "Did you get it, Arnold?"

"Oh—yeah!" He turned around in his chair and pulled up his bag to dig through the sections. The shuffling made me curious so, from beneath my hoodie, I looked up and barely suppressed a groan.

From his bag, Arnold had pulled out an old–fashion polaroid. One that I thought he had gotten rid of.

A smile lit up Gerald's face as he patted his friend on the back.

"Cost a fortune," Arnold said, smiling at his camera. "But she was definitely worth it."

"What happened to it?" I blurted out.

He turned to me, mildly surprised, and heat rose again to my face. I rung my hands beneath the table and looked away from him. But I caught Lila grinning at me and had to resist poking my tongue out at her.

"This dumbass," Gerald chuckled, slapping Arnold's shoulder, "dropped his other one when he wasn't paying attention."

"You pushed me which made me drop it," Arnold bit back defensively.

"I paid you back, didn't I?" Gerald rolled his eyes, still smiling.

The frown melted from Arnold's face, shifting into a soft smile. "Yeah," he agreed with a nod.

"So, are you gonna go back to taking pictures of anything that moves?" I asked him.

Photography was one of Arnold's majors and his favourite class. He used to take his camera wherever he could to capture anything he deemed worthy. And trust me, Arnold apparently deemed everything worthy. Seriously, I'd witnessed him photograph practically anything—trees, fish, clouds, a woman dropping her snotty tissues, even slugs for Christ's sakes.

Slugs.

Of course, I'd never been apart of those he'd chosen to capture. I tried ignoring that painful punch—because it didn't matter, and he had no reason to before. But Arnold was basically a tourist with his camera, always asking others, whether they were friends or strangers, for a picture. So, it did sting a little that I had never been one he'd wished to photograph.

Arnold ducked his head, sheepishly rubbing his neck, as Gerald nodded with agreement. "Yeah, dude," he grinned. "You photographed everything."

"Not everything," Arnold rebutted. But it was a weak rebuttal.

"Hey now," Lila giggled, scooping her hair over her shoulder and striking a pose. "I ever so much appreciate Arnold's photographic eye. My online pictures are ever so stupefying."

I rolled my eyes. Why did Lila always insist on talking like that?

There was a pause that felt too long and I turned back to Arnold. My stomach fell when I recognised the dazed look in his eyes as he watched Lila. I knew about his feelings for her, I hadn't once forgotten them, but that didn't mean it still didn't hurt.

Gerald sharply elbowed his friend in the ribs, startling him from his little daydream.

"Uh, y–yeah," Arnold shook his head then turned back to his camera. The pink in his cheeks stung me even more. Just yesterday he had treated me so differently. Lingerie comment aside, he had shown curiosity for my lack of injuries and concern for my wellbeing. A small part of me hoped that maybe, maybe his feelings had shifted, even if only a little.

"And I was kinda hoping to get a few shots of Blue Jay . . ."

Not that it would matter if they had anyway (not that I expected them to, of course—obviously. Why would he ever choose to look at me when he had a beautiful Aphrodite over there?). My being Blue Jay would—

Wait.

"What?" my gaze snapped to his surprised one. "When?"

His cheeks glowed bright and his eyes darted to Gerald's for a moment before turning back to me.

"When she's in action," he admitted.

I frowned. What was with all this blushing? It was just photography. I didn't see the big deal wi—

WAIT.

"What?!"

All eyes turned to me—Gerald's confused and Lila's curious—but I kept mine on the suddenly shy blonde in front of me.

"Um," he stuttered, unsure. "When she's in action?"

"As in, when she's fighting?"

". . . Yes?"'

I gaped at him for a moment, trying to comprehend what exactly he was saying. "But—" I frowned. "You can't."

"Why?"

Honestly, I almost slapped him. "Because she's busy."

Gerald stared at me, sizing me up. "And?" he asked, crossing his arms.

I almost slapped him. Did I need to spell it out to these bozo's?

"She's already got her hands full trying to save our asses!" I exploded, throwing up my hands. Arnold ducked and barely escaped their trajectory while Gerald narrowed his eyes. "Don't you think she'd appreciate it if we stayed out of her way?"

"I won't get in her way," Arnold said softly, yet defensively. His brows pressed down into a slight frown as he looked back at me.

It was a look that made me pause. I hadn't seen Arnold angry, or even annoyed, in a long time. It almost made me feel like I was in the wrong. But a torrent of memories from the past few nights quickly dissipated any of that guilt.

"By placing yourself in danger," I explained, crossing my arms, "you're automatically in her way."

Gerald raised an eyebrow. "When did you become Blue Jay's number one fan?"

"Apparently when I was the only one who actually listened to her the other day," I told him flatly. But I only received blank stares from the boys, neither lighting up with recognition. "Seriously? It was literally the other day. She told us to put down our phones and evacuate. Am I the only one who paid attention to anything she said?"

I felt like I was talking to two very thick walls and was ready to start screaming. But a firm hand came down on my shoulder and I looked up into Lila's calm expression. She gave me a nod with a small smile that slightly lightened the pressure building in my chest.

"No," she fixed the boys with a hard look. "You weren't."

Oh, thank God.

Arnold tried explaining. "Lila—"

"Arnold," she interrupted with a firm voice. One that made us all—yes, including me—straight in our chairs from fright. "Helga has a point—" I shot the boys a victorious smirk and Gerald rolled his eyes. "—Blue Jay has specifically asked us that we get to safety. So, she can protect us."

"But it's just one photo," Arnold insisted with a frown.

"Arnold, think about it from her perspective," Lila said, her voice deflating as she looked at him earnestly. "She's out there—alone—fighting those god forsaken things and . . . that man—" she shuddered "—she may possess powers, but it cannot be easy. She has no one to share her burdens."

I blinked and raised my head back to face the redhead. I always knew that Lila was intuitive, someone who was smarter then she let on, but she apparently was the only one who remotely understood my hardships.

"The least we can do," she continued in her even tone, "is make her job a little easier by getting ourselves out of danger. Keeping her eye on us is so much for one person."

She wasn't looking at me, but I realised the look in her eyes. They had the same hard edge to them as when she had defended me—Blue Jay—from her Dad. They were burning, like green fire, and were so intense I had to look away.

Arnold lowered his gaze back to his camera, his face scrunched up defensively. It was obvious he didn't agree with her. But he was smart enough to keep whatever his thoughts were to himself.

"Right," he muttered with a single nod. "I didn't think of it like that, Lila."

No, you hadn't, Arnold.

Only Lila had.

It was crazy, hearing someone else repeat my thoughts back to me. It lightened the burden, if only slightly. It felt nice to be validated, for someone to look past the powers and flashy outfits and see the long, confused girl inside. For someone to see the struggles without thinking any less of her.

Face it, Helga—she's one of you.

. . . was she?

My brain fogged up, going nowhere yet everywhere. My stomach twisted into tight knots as I remembered the punches, the blasts, the claws . . . everything that had been fired at me. The blood that had poured from my cuts, the tears that had slipped down my face.

Serec.

No.

No.

She wasn't—Lila wasn't like me.

She didn't deserve that.

She didn't deserve to have her smile torn from her skin, replaced with hidden trails of tears. It might lighten my own burden, but Lila didn't deserve to have one in the first place.

No, I would remain the only Guardian.

Lila cleared her throat and I blinked, coming back into focus. She gave us a smile, it seemed forced, and flashed us her next book.

"Well, that's enough chit–chatting, then," she beamed. "I think it's time to continue."

We didn't speak much after that.

Lila managed to shoot down any conversation Gerald or Arthur tried starting with syrup sweet smile. One that practically oozed danger. I could tell she wanted to say more, but she remained polite by reminding them how little they had actually written down.

It stunned me how in control she seemed. If I was her, I would've slapped them both up the head for trying to distract us. Not that I wanted to keep studying, that is. But Lila was right, we didn't have long before these notes were due, our dissection was tomorrow. And I didn't know how long we'd been working on this, but we were still a while from finishing.

Looking up at the clock, I wanted to cry.

2:43pm.

It had only been two hours.

Between the fogginess in my brain and the empty twisting in my stomach, it felt far longer. Still, even if it hadn't actually been that long, I guess we were closer to finishing today then we had ever been. At this point, we could possibly finish in a little under two more hours. Then, I'd be free to continue my training and—

A low grumble came from my stomach.

My face burnt as everyone looked to me.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Helga!" Lila exclaimed, putting down her pen. "I didn't even think to offer anyone some food!"

Arnold's gaze burned straight into my skull, so I looked down to cover my stomach.

"I–It's fine," I weakly insisted.

This was beyond embarrassing, I just wanted to keep on studying. I reached for the pen I had dropped when Lila grasped onto my wrist. Her fingers glazed my knuckles and I slightly grimaced as they tinged.

"When did you last eat?" she demanded, looking into my eyes.

"Um," I looked between her and both the boys, who appeared more then eager for a distraction. "Last night."

Lila's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

"Dude," Gerald groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. An action which surprised me since neither of us could stand one another.

"Helga," Arnold said, watching me with concern that made my chest flutter. "When were you planning on eating today?"

Hm.

I looked up, tapping my chin. Honestly, it hadn't even crossed my mind. I'd been planning on heading straight to training after this. So, perhaps afterwards I would've treated myself to a chocolate sundae.

Clucking my tongue, I finally admitted, "Dunno, when I'm finished running my errands today."

"And when's that supposed to be?" Gerald asked.

I shrugged, pulling my hand from Lila's grasp. She didn't react to my action, appearing moreso concerned with my lack of nourishment.

"Probably not til eight or so," I answered truthfully. Training tended to get unpredictable, but typically if there weren't any interruptions, it lasted three hours.

Gerald's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?" he repeated in a high–pitched voice which made me wince.

"You have to eat, Helga," Arnold insisted with a disapproving frown. He leaned forward, pressing his elbows into the table, with that stupid look in his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm aware," I frowned, moving a bit away from him. My arm glanced Lila's, who I pointedly avoided eye contact with. "Were you not listening, football head? I'm gonna when I'm finished."

Stupid.

"Nope!" Lila then wrapped her fingers around my wrist again. And before I could snap at her to let me go, she literally yanked me from my seat. I shrieked in a way which made both Arnold and Gerald grimace, but she only smiled and pulled me from the room.

And the next thing I knew, we were both standing in her kitchen. I was surprised how light and airy it all was; sunlight streamed in from the large window above the sink, dancing across the floorboards. The walls were a soft mint green with counters that were brown and green marble surfaces.

Lila dropped my hand and darted over to her fridge. Opening the door, she briefly scanned the contents before pulling out a plate of spaghetti that was wrapped in plastic. She unravelled the plate as she headed for the microwave in the corner. She popped in the spaghetti and pressed the 'start' button.

The screen had barely flashed before Lila spun back around and zipped to the cupboard, pulling out two slices of bread. It was when she popped them in the toaster that I decided that enough was enough.

"Alright, Cinderella," I snapped, crossing my arms. "I think this is—"

"Sit."

The glare she sent me was etched with enough warning that I plopped myself down in the closest seat. Lila's glare turned into a smirk, one which proved my theory that she was evil. I had sat down at the end of the benches which curved like an L in the middle of the room.

The microwave beeped and she turned to take out the steaming plate of spaghetti then placed it in front of me. She pulled out some utensils then lightly feathered on some spice I couldn't read the label of.

I barely opened my mouth when she spun around to fish the toast, slathering it with peanut butter and jelly. She then placed on a plate and set it down next to the spaghetti, regarding her work proudly.

"There," she said, striking a pose like Superman. Only, as far as I was concerned, Clark Kent didn't drag his friends half–way across town for a dumb toy, or buy said friend lingerie they didn't even want.

"Lila," I said with a frown. "What are you doing?"

A little late to ask, I realise, but still better late than never.

Tossing the spice bottle up and down in her hand, Lila spun around to place it in its original spot next to the fridge. She then snatched a glass from the cupboard and filled it up with water from the tap.

"You're not joining us," she said in an authoritative voice, turning back to me, "until you have some type of food in you, Helga."

I felt my jaw drop.

She didn't acknowledge my reaction and set the glass down next to me.

"Are you serious?" I demanded in a voice that sounded much too similar to Gerald's before. Not that Lila cared, she just kept grinning at me. Like the sick, sick individual she was.

"Frightfully so," she smiled in a way that was supposed to look sympathetic. But I could see that spark in her eyes, the one that dared me to object against her.

Well, fortunately for her, I wasn't feeling particularly daring to do so. And no, it had nothing to do with the fact that this girl was the spawn of Satan. No, I just think that perhaps it would be wiser to pick my battles more selectively.

And she also scares you—

Hush.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Helga," she continued, holding up her finger like she was reciting something for class.

"Yes," I rolled my eyes. "Because spaghetti is considered breakfast material."

The smile fell from her lips and she put her hands back on her hips. "Helga, your body needs something in it," she stressed. "I have no idea what errands you're running, but you cannot do them on an empty stomach, it's too dangerous."

A warmth flared in my chest. I would deny it until my last breath, but it touched me that she seemed to care so much. This girl had such a motherly quality to her—well, the times she wasn't being psycho—that it made me feel so at home.

"Lila is a Guardian—and your ally."

Lila must have taken my silence as compliance because, with a nod, she decided to leave. But when she passed me, I grabbed onto her wrist, which surprised her.

"Can I at least have my book?"

She stared for a moment before slowly smiling and covering her mouth to giggle. She evaded my grasp, leaving without an answer. But through the hallway, I could hear her giggles transform into something maniacal. And not for the first time, I feared whatever she was cooking up in that brain of hers.

My stomach growled as I turned back to the spaghetti in front of me. The delicious scent curled into my nose and made my mouth water.

Picking up the fork, I scooped up the spaghetti and shovelled it into my mouth. Something within me lit up as my tastebuds sprung to life. The hunger I had ignored hit me full force as I found myself stuffing food into my mouth.

I moaned, chewing on the spaghetti. It was so good—I'd have to ask what type of spices this was.

As I continued to eat, I mused to myself how perfect Lila really was. There was no wonder Arnold was so head over heels for her. She was the only person who came close to emulating his magnificence. And I hated to admit it, but it was impossible not to like the girl.

No wonder she was chosen.

She—among other things—had the heart, stubbornness and intuition that a Guardian should.

"No."

Nel paused, her mouth opening into a little O, as she replayed my response over in her head. "I—excuse me?"

"No," I repeated, shaking my head with disbelief, and stood back to my feet. "It can't be her."

I knew the chances were slim, but I wanted Nel to admit she was mistaken. Or that I had heard the name wrong. That instead she'd say, 'Oh, sorry, Helga—I meant Mason, that total buffhead that lives and breathes the gym!' or even 'Grayson, one of the best cops in Hillwood!'

"Can't be—" Nel blinked at my words before pressing me down with a frown. "Helga, it is her."

I stood fixed to the spot, a chill permeating my body. I wanted her to take that back. I wanted her to say I misheard that name, But I knew she wouldn't.

Bile raised from the back of my throat and salvia covered my tongue. I opened my mouth—to accept what she said then leave to hide in the bathroom—but instead I kept denying.

"No," I repeated in a wet voice. "It has to be someone else."

"I'm sorry, Helga, but this is no mistake," she sighed. "Lila is a Guardian—and your ally."

Her words were meant to be comforting—they meant I would have someone to share my burden with—but they were like punches to my teeth. I turned back to her, wanting to plead for her to take this all back, to tell me this was a sick joke. But instead I got a very stern pair of eyes glaring at me.

"No," I said again. "No, it can't be her."

"Helga, I thought you liked Lila. Why are you suddenly so against having an ally?" she asked, though it was probably more to herself then me. But then she gasped when she realised something. "Oh, don't tell me its because you want to remain Hillwood's shining star."

I scoffed and turned away from her. "You think I'm that self–obsessed?"

I tried hiding the hurt that her accusation brought me. Nel had just given me a pep talk, one that had actually made me feel better. Now she was blindly accusing me of this.

"I think you should recruit her as your comrade—" I interrupted her with a humourless laugh. "Helga, this better not have anything to do with your jealousy regarding the girl—"

"Jealousy?" I spluttered, spinning back around to face her. She slightly grimaced at the look on my face, but quickly concealed it behind a cold mask. "Seriously, Nel? You'd think I'd let jealous make my decision for me?"

A moment passed that withered the air around us as Nel watched me cooly. "It's been known to happen," she said, her mouth framing every word.

I rolled my eyes and ignored that jab. Because I knew exactly what she was referring too.

"What even about her has you so certain?" I murmured, though it didn't matter what she said.

"Her strength."

I snorted.

"Oh, come on, Helga, surely you've seen it. Lila is the perfect candidate—she's determined, quick, selfless—" she broke off when she saw something glaze over my face. "—and possesses a stubbornness almost strong enough to rival yours."

Something tightened in my chest, so much that breathing became a task. But I covered it up with my usual irritation, letting the loathing flood my stomach.

"Well, she's definitely got her annoying nose stuck in everyone's business, that's for sure," I crossed my arms. "So, no powers?"

"I won't know until she's transformed."

"Right," I nodded. But the night was pressing in on me, suffocating me. I needed to get out of here, so I turned around for the bathroom.

"Helga, she's like you," Nel tried again, calling desperately over my shoulder.

I paused, feeling very, very sick.

"Like me," I echoed, like it was name I'd just heard of.

It felt like the world was slowly breaking off and disappearing from around me. Or maybe it was just me who was fading away. My lungs were burning, and my heart hit my chest so hard I thought it would break my ribs.

"We're—" I rolled the phrase over in my head. My body was cold, like a blizzard had engulfed me, but my insides were burning. I had to hold onto the door frame to regain my balance. "We're not telling her."

She's not going through any of this shit.

"But, Helga—"

"End of discussion."

I didn't wait for a response and slammed the door shut behind me. The light wasn't on, so I was encased in a darkness which strangled me.

What are you doing? A voice inside asked me.

I pressed myself against the door, staring into space. My chest was so tight like it didn't want to let any breath in. My mind turned to static, nothing making sense as horrors replayed in my mind.

And the next thing I knew, I was huddled on the tiles, wrapping my arms around myself and burying my face into my knees. I bit down on my tongue because I knew that if I wasn't careful, I would agree to Nel. Because I was so tired, so scared, and so done of being the only one to burden this responsibility. I was only one person, how could I continue to do this by myself?

But why did it have to be her? Why couldn't it be someone I didn't know? Someone I wouldn't feel guilty by putting all this responsibility onto their shoulders.

Sweat poured down my neck and filled my palms. It felt like the stars were looking down on me, cackling and singing that I should've been careful what I wished for.

"I'm—" a silent sob tore through me. "I'm protecting them."

"Helga?"

I jumped and found myself staring up at Arnold. He stood on my right, awkwardly holding my textbook, and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

My throat was still tight, the urge to cry very strong.

I turned away from him and reached for my glass to settle myself. But it was empty, I hadn't realised how much I'd had before.

I sighed, the thirst burning in the back of my throat.

"W–What do you want?" I cringed at how harsh it came out and quickly added, "Football head."

"Lila said you needed this," he said, placing the textbook down next to my plate. Thankfully, he didn't seem too bothered with the nickname, he probably was getting used to it.

I looked from the book—a sense of dread creeping up—then to his face. He was staring, so intently that it felt like it wasn't just at me. It felt like it was through me; like he could see straight through all my walls.

Face warm, I nodded and looked back down, waiting for him to leave. But he just stayed there, like he was waiting for me to say something. Any other day, being around him made me skittish, but the heavy weight in my chest struck me with impatience.

I tried glaring at him, but his gaze was unyielding, and I had to look away. I knew that my face was burning red, so I grabbed the empty glass and headed for the sink.

"How's the studying going?" I asked in what I hoped was an even voice. I didn't look at him, my eyes staying concentrated on the water that filled my glass.

"It's . . . a little more quiet now," he chuckled. "But better than the, erm, last time."

The room went quiet, I didn't know what to say. I didn't trust myself to move, so I stood still and brought the glass to my lips. My eyes stared out the window, looking up at the sky which was plagued with heavy sets of clouds. Hopefully it wouldn't be raining today, getting to and from where training was held was already a task.

"You know, I never got the chance to say this, but . . ." Arnold hesitated as I sipped the water. The coldness brought me reassurance, slowed the rapid thumping in my chest, and I allowed myself a moment to calm down. "Thanks for saving me that day."

I paused, pulling the glass from my lips and wiping my mouth. At first, I didn't know which day he was talking about. Because, as Blue Jay, I'd saved him countless of times, so I really had to wrack my brain to remember a time when I'd been Helga.

Then, the day flashed behind my eyes—of the library, with its frosty air and eeriness. I remembered storming off and coming back to chaos, one where I had to push his unconscious form out of the way.

Feeling my stomach twist, I slowly turned to face him. His emerald stare was so sincere, so full of gratitude and concern, that I was struck with the same feeling that Savannah had given me. I didn't have my mask; I couldn't hide away from this rawness.

"I–It—" I looked down to my hands, I could feel their sweat soaking the gloves. "It was nothing."

Something my injuries begged to differ.

"You say that," he said, "but we don't know what would've happened if you hadn't been there."

I couldn't help shuddering at the unspoken words. "Don't even want to think about it," I muttered.

Arnold blinked, his face transforming into shock, before a sly grin spread across his lips. "So, you do care," he said teasingly.

I stared at him with bemusement. "Well, of course, football head, how heartless do you think I am?"

Truthfully, I didn't want to know that answer.

"Wait, no, that's not what I meant, I—" he then paused in consideration. "Actually, it is a little."

"Thanks."

"Um—no offence!" he stepped forward, holding up his hands in surrender. "But you always seemed like you, uhh—just didn't care? Like, not in a way where you hated us, but just like you . . . weren't concerned. Like you were in different. It's nice to know that wasn't true. I think."

The emptiness from before was still tearing me up, but I couldn't stop myself from smiling at him. I hadn't seen Arnold so flustered before, not concerning me at least. It felt good to know that I, of all people, could do that to him, even if it wasn't in the way I hoped.

"Whatever, football head," I said teasingly.

He rubbed his face, to probably cover the redness in his cheeks, and darted his gaze around the room. He clamped his lips together, waiting for a while before turning back to me.

"H–How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Take down that—" he hesitated. "—thing."

It felt like those claws had wrapped around me again. Because for a moment, I didn't know how to answer him. Not without making myself sound suspicious. Arnold was already disbelieving of my bruises yesterday, I didn't know how not to add to that.

But then I saw the nervous way his eyes were darting across the room, the way he shuffled his weight. And then it clicked in me just how nervous he was. This curiosity was eating away at him and, for once, I was in charge of the conversation.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Placing the glass on the bench, I leaned back against the sink and propped my elbows up on the surface. I smiled in a way that oozed confidence, suddenly feeling a lot like Blue Jay.

"You really wanna know?" I asked him.

It was like stars were in his eyes as he eagerly stepped forward. "Well, yeah," he nodded.

"Three words, football head: Good ol' Betsy," I held up my fist appraisingly. "Hasn't let me down once."

Arnold blinked at me. "So . . . you're saying that . . . you just punched your way out?"

Well, okay, when he said it like that, it sounded stupid.

"How else would I have?" I shrugged, letting my fist drop to my side.

He regarded me in a way that made me freeze. Crap, was it a little too hard to believe? Because, yeah, that's what happened, but only because my strength was greater.

But then he shrugged and nodded his head.

"I dunno," he admitted. "I . . . can you teach me?"

For a moment, I thought I misheard him and had to pause, taking it in.

"What?"

"Can you teach me how to use my Betsy?" he asked again, stepping closer. The distance between us was rapidly closing and the air in my throat hitched.

"You want me to teach you how to throw a punch . . ." I trailed off, crossing my arms. "Right here, in the middle of Lila's kitchen?"

"Well, yeah," he eagerly nodded. "You want us to be safe, right?"

Oh, criminy,

"Yeah, safe," I said with a snort. "Not suicidally stupid."

And I was planning on remaining firm on my stance—because why would I teach him to fight instead of urging him to escape like everyone else—but the face he made ruptured my heart. His face crumbled, his shoulders sagging with disappointment, and the light in his eyes dimmed. It was a look that mimicked that of a kicked puppy, which was a thought I didn't like in the slightest.

"Okay, fine," I said before I could stop myself. Fuck me and my stupid sentimentalism.

Arnold's eyes lit up, his posture turning arrow straight, and I sighed, making a gesture to myself.

"Throw a punch then," I instructed him.

I was almost insulted that Arnold's response to me daring him to hit in my direction was just to smile. The least he could do is act a little aghast at the thought of nearly hitting me. He stepped forward, shifting into a defensive position, and shoved his fist into the air. He stopped a few centimetres from my nose, but I didn't flinch. Instead, I raked my eyes up and down his body, scanning his posture. His heels momentarily left the floor as his weight rocked forward to his toes.

"Your forms all wrong," I said after a short silence.

"What?"

"Your form," I repeated, looking back at his face and stroking my chin. "If you were in a real fight, your balance would be thrown off from your attack alone."

Which was putting it lightly. I only mentioned his balance, but his punch was pretty weak. It hadn't soared with confidence, but rather flown shakily. And, instead of being tucked beneath his curled fingers, his thumb had been straight across his fist.

Arnold may have many talents, but it was clear that punching—or fighting in general—wasn't one of them.

"So?" he replied with a slight frown.

I studied his face for a moment, taking in the defensiveness etched in his features. You'd think I'd just spat in his shoe from the way he was looking at me.

"So, if your balance is thrown off, you're more vulnerable," I explained. "You might fall or lose your footing. Even if its for a second, that gives enough time for your opponent to find an opening then—wham."

Arnold slightly flinched as I made a slight movement with my fist, but he quickly tried covering it up. He pressed his lips together as his eyes hardened, making me sigh.

We weren't going to get anywhere with his mood swings.

I stepped forward and placed my hands squarely onto his shoulders. His eyes widened and his lips slightly parted with panic.

"What are—"

"Shh," I interrupted him, moving his shoulders so they were in line with his feet. I heard his breath as it harshly sucked in as I shifted his elbows in towards his ribs.

"Keep your shoulders relaxed," I said as I patted down on his suddenly stiff shoulders. "They're too tense."

He was quiet as his shoulder slowly slackened. They weren't completely relaxed, but I figured that that could be as good as we'd get. I stepped back, my chin between my fingers, and re–examined his form. His face was red, but his gaze was determinedly pointed over my shoulder and out the window. But his posture was far more appropriate this time.

"Okay," I said with a nod. "Go again."

He nodded then punched again, but this time it aimed higher then before.

"Uh," I frowned, "what're you hitting?"

"It's head," he answered, but in a way where it sounded moreso like a question.

"It's head?" I repeated, feeling my eyebrows raise. "You've just broken your knuckles."

"What? How?" he blinked, dropping his fist.

"Well, you're punching its face," I emphasised, crossing my arms. "That would hurt just for any old human, let alone those things."

This rang even more true, considering the state of my knuckles now. They were far better then before, only slightly throbbing bruises now, but, if it weren't for the healing reflexes, I would be beyond fucked.

It occurred to me that becoming Blue Jay revealed just how little I had known about fighting. Sure, I was getting better now, but looking back on it, I didn't know shit as Helga. I didn't fight often, but when I did, it would be purely acting on instinct, throwing myself in and punching whatever I could reach.

I'd been like a wild animal, but an unintelligent one. One that moved fiercely but without thought. Now, I gave myself time to think up strategies, to find weaknesses in my opponent. Even without my powers, it was undeniable that I had improved since then.

Thinking about it, shame washed over me, colouring my cheeks. I'd really thought I'd been tough shit, when I probably was no better than someone like Savannah.

"So, I can't punch it in its face?" Arnold asked, looking like I had just handed him a math question. "Why?"

"Well, think about it, football head," I said with a nod. "Your bones are punching into more bones—doesn't sound too fun, does it?"

"But doesn't Blue Jay punch its face?"

"Well, yeah, but she's, like, super strong or whatever," I shrugged for good measure. I didn't want to sound like I knew too much about her, but it was also a safe assumption to make. "Well, I assume. And she's got powers. I don't think you're on her level, football head."

I hadn't meant anything by it, but I watched as Arnold's eyes flashed with something. A tightness twisted in his face and I found myself stepping back from him.

"Well, if I can't hit it with my knuckles," he began, irritation creeping into his voice. "What can I do?"

I didn't even think about it as I reached for his hand and held it up. He softly gasped, his shoulders rolling back, as I tucked his fingers in and brandished his palm into the air.

"See this meaty part here?" I asked, squishing his palm. I felt him nod and continued, "Use it instead. Not nearly as sensitive but still packs a mean punch. Aim for the nose or chin."

Granted, I didn't actually want him running off to fight a Mutant. But, at the very least, I hoped he could use this if he was ever in danger. It would be better than anything he would have actually done before.

I stepped back with what I hoped was an encouraging smile and gestured for him to go again. I watched his feet as he threw his palm forward and marvelled at how firm his balance was now.

I looked back up and was struck with how brightly he grinned at me. "Thanks, Helga."

Something hot crept up my back and wrapped around my throat, making it hard to breathe.

But I tried covering it up with a shrug. "Eh, it's nothing."

"No, really," he stepped forward, eyes cooling. "Thank you."

I suddenly became aware of a shift in the air as I met his gaze. He was doing it again, staring so deeply at me that it felt like he could read my thoughts. But this time his eyes were softer, the corners crinkling as his mouth turned up into a relaxed smile.

"I dunno how you know that—other then you just being Helga," he added with a small laugh. "But it's really cool."

I expected myself to be offended by that. Because he had essentially implied that being Helga was synonymous with a wild hooligan. But instead my stomach was wiggling like a fluffy marshmallow. I wasn't used to being thanked, much less praised. I didn't know how to receive compliments, they still made me uncomfortable.

I looked away, reaching back to grasp onto my glass. Heat was pressing around my face, so I quickly swallowed the last of the water. It was silent as Arnold waited for my response, when a chilling feeling hit me.

The hairs on my neck stood straight, as two holes burned straight into my skull. Like someone was watching me. The glass slipped from my fingers, exploding into sharp, wet shards at my feet.

"Shit," I heard Arnold mutter.

I looked over my shoulder and out the window, scanning for anything suspicious. But I paused when my gaze swept over nothing in particular—it was just as it had been before. The smoggy scene of the city, squished between a long silver horizon and a smooth strip of roadwork, wheeled over with cars.

"Helga?" I heard Lila.

I turned back around to Lila and Gerald, breathing like they'd just rushed in from the living room. The looks on their faces were identical shades of shock, both staring questioningly at me. I followed Gerald's gaze as it fell down to Arnold, who was scooping up the shards into his palm.

Fuck.

"Helga, are you okay?" Lila asked, her eyes never leaving me.

"You need help, dude?" Gerald said to Arnold, stepping forward to pick up the paper towels from the bench. He unravelled the paper as he approached his friend.

"Yeah, I—ow, shit," Arnold hissed, the shards falling from his hand. Blood oozed from his fingers and dripped over the shards, soaking into the floor.

"Shit, Arnold, I—" I stuttered, freezing when Gerald glared at me. It was one of those glares that made me stop and watch in silence. He kneeled down to pick up the glass with the paper towels while Lila fetched band aids from the drawers.

My chest tightened to a point that I found it hard to breathe. Something cold breathed across my neck and I stepped away from everyone. Arnold looked up with concern, like the kind-hearted fool he was, and I turned away.

"I n–need some air."

The water didn't help.

My eyes burned holes into the mirror as droplets rolled down my face. They spilled across my cheeks, washing away the patchy makeup I had slapped on before I left. The bruise along my cheek was now a yellow blotch, better than last night but still noticeable.

My heart was still pounding and the hairs on my neck were still tall. I didn't know why, but I hoped it was because of Arnold and not something else.

After the fiasco, I had left the room in search of the bathroom. No one had stopped me as I clambered down the hallway and slammed the door behind me.

In here, it was like I was in another time zone; silence entered my lungs like smoke and swelled in my mind. I could hear the pulse that ran in my temples and the gasps that escaped my parched lips.

My stomach was twisting itself into knots. Not in a way that made me want to vomit, but in a way that put me on high alert. My fists twitched to be thrown, I wanted to fight whatever was in the back of my mind.

I had taken off my gloves, slapping them down next to the tap so I could wash my hands. The bruises had disappeared, the skin across my knuckles was a bright pink. They weren't throbbing anymore; I was sure I could fight again.

I pressed my lips together and sucked in a deep breath. The air was sweet in here, I soaked in the aroma and tasted lilies.

It was extremely earthy in here; the walls were large format tiles of white toned travertine and the floor made of rose–coloured tiles. The vanities were light pink while the counter was a brilliant white quartz. There was no shower, but a curved bathtub that was shoved beneath the rectangular window.

Shaking my hands, I reached for the small towel and wiped my face. As the fluffiness swamped my face, I let out another long, shaky breath.

It must've been nothing.

I pulled the towel from my face, folding it back up and plopping it down. I scanned my reflection and held up a hand to cover the bruise on my cheek. I sighed, wracking my brain for solutions, maybe I could ask Lila for some makeup. I could just explain to her that I fell or something and didn't want questions asked. Lila would no doubt try getting into my business, but I felt like I could trust her to at least keep this between us.

The bruise, that is.

I sighed again, pulling the hoodie back over my head and shoving on my gloves. The assignment was almost finished—at the most, I would only have to stay for another hour. One more hour and then I was free to just get out of here.

I caught sight of movement in the reflection.

Narrowing my eyes, I looked over my shoulder. My gaze traced the top of the bath, the corners of the walls and even the dust particles in the air. But I couldn't see anything.

A light breeze whistled through the open window and the curtains drifted in the air. But the feeling within deepened and my fingers ached as they dug into the counter behind me.

I sighed, maybe it was just paranoia.

Shrugging, I stood straight and went to leave when my ears caught another rustle. I was itching to leave this time, so when I looked again, it was with frustration.

And my next vision was of a dark shape plummeting for me.

"There," Gerald sighed, dusting his hands as he moved his foot from the pedal. The bin lid slammed back down, and he turned to them, the shards at the bottom of the trash. "That's the last of it."

Lila nodded and turned back to Arnold to wrap band aids around his fingers. She pressed her lips together at his stiffness, well aware of the effect she still had on him. Her stomach shifted uncomfortably, but she forced herself to ignore it to tend to her friend.

"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked him slowly. She looked up to a hot flush that flooded his face as he nervously looked away.

She bit back a groan. It was moments like these that her friendship with Arnold took a dive.

"Um, y–yeah," he stuttered, leaning in towards her. And Lila knew that he wasn't aware of it, that it was a subconscious move he didn't mean anything by. But she couldn't help automatically moving back to put some distance between them.

"Thanks, Lila," he continued, apparently oblivious to her movement.

And then his lips pulled into that smile which pretty much no one was immune to. It didn't make her heart race, but it did hurt her. Arnold was one of her closest friends and she cared a lot about him. It honestly hurt her that she had to keep distancing herself from him.

She nodded then turned to Gerald, who watched them awkwardly. She pretended not to notice the silent conversation he and Arnold were having. She knew from the way Gerald was narrowing his eyes that he was motioning for Arnold to make a move. It made her want to scream, it felt like everyone was against her, unaware that she didn't want a move to be made.

"What happened with Helga?" she asked, louder then necessary. It startled the boys, who tried pretending they hadn't been silently arguing about her by looking away from each other.

Unsurprisingly, Gerald scoffed when her words registered. "Pfft, I dunno," he muttered dismissively. "Pataki's always been weird."

"Gerald," Arnold scolded in an almost fatherly tone while Lila rolled her eyes.

Honestly, this rivalry was getting ridiculous. Lila had hoped that after yesterday maybe their hostility would simmer, but no, the moment they had seen each other today, the bickering had started right back up. Lila had almost ripped her hair out of her skull trying to settle them down. It was moments like those that she wished she could allow herself to show them how she really felt.

And what made it even more foolish was that the two of them weren't even that different from one another. They were both over–protective, in way over their heads and were the most stubborn people she had met. Arnold and Lila had both agreed that, had the two put away their pride, Gerald and Helga likely could've been good friends.

"She seemed troubled," Lila said stiffly, trying to calm herself. Both boys turned to her, but she eyed as something settled over Gerald's tight features before turning to Arnold. "Did she seem off to you?"

Arnold let his gaze fall down to his bandaged fingers with a twisted expression. "I dunno—not that I could tell."

"What were you even doing?" Lila couldn't help asking. She phrased it in a way that made her sound simply curious, but it was more nosiness then anything.

She hadn't made it a secret—to Helga, at least—that she enjoyed the idea of Helga getting romantically involved with Arnold. Seeing the two of them together always made her swell up with excitement.

"Uh, well, I—" Arnold's face turned red as he looked up then back down to his hands again. "Uh, n–nothing. Just talked."

Oh, yeah right.

Inwardly, Lila rolled her eyes, but bit her tongue not to force the topic. For someone who liked helping others so much, Arnold was quite a private person. Which only made it harder for her to get a read on him, at least concerning his feelings regarding Helga.

Still, Lila couldn't help thinking back on her new–found friend's behaviour. She hated to admit it, but there was some truth to Gerald's earlier statement—Helga's behaviour was increasingly becoming weird.

Helga had always been a secretive person, moreso then Arnold, and avoided social contact. But there had definitely been a shift in how she approached them recently.

For one thing, she didn't seem to hate Lila anymore.

Yes, she wasn't blind. She knew that Helga had always had it in for her. She largely suspected Helga's reasoning for this to be jealousy. Like everyone else, Helga wasn't blind to the way Arnold watched Lila. She, more then likely, viewed Lila as a rival and nothing more. Which honestly hurt her; she didn't like being brushed off like that. Regardless of her own feelings towards Arnold, she didn't find it fair that she could be villainised for something so silly.

And yet, Lila could never hate Helga. There were opportunities—oh, there were many opportunities—but she just couldn't. She hated being seen as nothing more then a pretty face, which obviously Helga did, but she always had seen something inside Helga.

It was something that reminded her of herself.

And yet everything had changed within the past two weeks. It was like Helga had been drained of all her hate and filled with something else. She carried herself differently now; it wasn't like when she was trying to blend in with everyone else. It was with a sense of weariness, like she was always on high alert.

At first, Lila chalked it up to the attack—they were so unpredictable and affected everyone. But it felt like something more personal was happening in Helga's head. Like, something that was having an emotional toll on just her.

Theories bubbled in the back of Lila's mind; ones that felt outrageous. But when she had looked into Helga's eyes, she had seen her gaze mysteriously mist over.

"Look, she probably just got nervous or somethin'," Gerald finally said, making them both jump from their thoughts.

Lila blinked, coming back into focus as Gerald rubbed the back of his neck, scrunching up his face.

"She'll probably be down soon," he continued in a low voice, "and I doubt she'll be pleased to find us gossiping about her."

Lila was astounded with Gerald's surprisingly mature response. He must've felt her shocked stare because he twisted away from them, uncomfortable with their silence.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Arnold admitted, touching the band aids wrapped around his fingers. "We're probably overthinking it."

It turned quiet as the boys turned their gazes towards Lila, silently asking for her to acknowledge their conclusion. Truthfully, she doubted Helga fled just because she was a little nervous. Helga may be shyer than what she led on and way more emotional then she gave herself credit for, but Lila knew that that extreme of a reaction probably had a larger cause then butterflies.

And, she hated to admit it, but a part of her felt like she already knew the answer.

Outwardly, she forced a smile and nodded.

"Yes," she lied. "She's probably fine."

My head smacked into the mirror.

The Mutant dragged its claws into my hair and down my face. My shrieks were engulfed with its wild chattering as it spat into my ear. The hoodie fell from my head as my ponytails were ripped from their ties, hitting the back of my neck. And my breath burst across my face as it hit the Mutant's body.

I gritted my teeth as it raked sharply over my arms. Shutting my eyes, I used all my strength to fling it across the room. The chattering disappeared and I heard its body smash into the bathtub, knocking over the shampoo bottles.

I opened my mouth, my heart in my throat. The Mutant had a small, hulking body, where it carried most of its weight in its fists, more then its feet. It was similar to that of a baby gorilla, with deep magenta flesh which shone wetly in the light. Sharp, yellow teeth protruded from its fat lower lip as it gripped onto the edge of the tub.

Its sunken eyes widened as I pulled my pin from my pocket. I watched as it became a small flash as it charged forward. And I barely even registered when it knocked the pin straight from my hands.

Time froze as the pin skidded across the floor, hitting the bottom of the bath. I released a strangled breath. The Mutant, who had been clinging onto me like a monkey, snarled at me, so I glared daggers at it, daring it to even try. I shoved it behind me and leapt up from the sink, but I felt its claws wrap around my ankle. Shrieking, I fell down and landed on my stomach. The Mutant snickered as it hopped over my fallen body.

Sucking in a breath, I chucked random objects—anything close to me—and managed to nail it in the temple with a rubber duck. It let out a surprised squawk and I quickly leapt for my pin.

"Ah ha!" I shouted triumphantly, pointing down at the Mutant.

It snarled then barged its body straight into my stomach. The air was knocked out of me and it wrapped its hand around my neck. I held the pin high above me and the Mutant whined as its tiny arms failed to reach it.

Then someone knocked on the door.

Our eyes snapped over when a voice—I couldn't recognise who—demanded if I was okay.

"Uh—y – yes!" I choked out.

The Mutant's head cracked into mine and stars overtook my vision. An ache burned my skull and I crumbled into a small ball. Blood roared in my ears and all I could hear was a cackling as the pin slipped from my hands.

"No!"

Everything was spinning as I tried climbing to my feet. My stomach was heaving as my gaze settled onto the Mutant, standing up on the window ledge. It held up my pin with a smirk before disappearing right out the window.

I wanted to scream, but I was too stunned to do anything. A numbness fell over me, like I'd been jabbed with thousands of needles, and the colour sunk from my vision.

Everything moved so slowly.

I could hear myself panting. Could feel as my body blindly stumbled forward, but I felt so disconnected. Like I was nothing more than an audience member, watching an actor's performance.

In the back of my mind, I vaguely recognised that my hand was grasping onto the jiggling handle. But I couldn't feel it, not in a present sense. There was a rush around my ears until I blinked, finding myself wrapped in someone's arms. A warm puff of air washed over me and I realised that I had stumbled straight into Arnold.

"—elga!" his voice slowly registered. His eyes were wide, and his face twisted with panic. "What's going o—"

"Errands!" I blurted out, pushing from his grip. He didn't fight back, but kept his arms out to catch me. "Its late. I have errands."

Heat was beginning to rush to my face as I slowly sunk back into my body. I felt sick, like the sun had exploded inside of me. My hands were shaking, sweat soaking the gloves, and I pulled on my sleeves to cover it.

"Helga, what're yo—" Lila's face popped out from around Arnold as she peered into the bathroom. Horror flashed over her face as her jaw dropped. "What happa—"

"I'm sorry!"

Arnold's arms were lost as I fled from them and rushed down the hallway. My salvia was thick on my tongue, like a disgusting paste, and my hair stuck to the back of my neck. My brain was racing so fast, I barely noticed that I had fallen straight into someone's chest.

"Oh, wow—" I looked up into Gerald's confused stare. "Yo, what the hell—"

I pushed him away and scrambled for the front door. My hands hadn't even reached for the handle when I heard Lila shouting from beside Gerald.

"Helga!" she called. "Where on earth—"

"I've gotta go!" I shouted without looking.

And then I was running.

I pushed the hair from my eyes as I raced blindly through the streets, trying to track that Mutant. My lungs threatened to explode in my chest, I wanted to vomit. An aching pain tore through my ribs, from my running so quickly, and I was thankful Lila had forced me to eat.

Nel? I called out. Nel! Please, I need your help!

But I only got silence. My heart dropped, the distance must've been too large between us.

Shi—

Helga? I suddenly heard Nel's voice. What is it?

Thank God.

A Mutant! I answered, dodging an old couple who both glared with irritation at me. It stole my pin!

What? She exclaimed, as panicked as I felt. It stole your—

Yes, Nel! I shouted back at her, leaping over a young girl's dog. I didn't pause as it barked at me, but I heard the girl trying to calm it down. A Mutant came in and stole my fucking pin and now I'm running in the streets!

Okay, calm down, Nel said in a controlled voice. Can you see the Mutant?

Sucking in a shallow breath, I made myself actually look around and take in my surroundings. The sky had quickly cleared up and now was the colour of tangerines; cars lined up along the road as people with shopping bags walked around, oblivious to the turmoil to come.

I caught a flash of movement from the corner in my eye and turned. I choked when I spotted the Mutant, running on all fours in the shadows. There was a soft glint from its open mouth and I realised that that was my pin.

Yes, I see it! Then I gagged. I'm gonna have to bleach that pin though.

To say the very least.

Try and catch it, Helga, was Nel's immediate. I rolled my eyes, what else did she expect me to do? If it's running away rather then fighting, that means it's a weaker Mutant. Serec might've sent it with another one!

I nodded. Right.

I'll be with you as soon as I can!

I quickened my pace into a blind sprint as I tried closing the distance between us, But the Mutant was fast—it was like a little dog—I'd have to slow it down.

I stretched out my hand and curled my fingers around the lid of the silver trashcan. I didn't slow down as I hurled the lid over my shoulder. It spun like a frisbee for the Mutant, but it must've sensed the movement because it quickly dodged. It leapt up onto the hood of a nearby car and the trashcan clattered to the ground.

People stopping, the noise getting their attention, and let out horrified gasps when they spotted the Mutant. I quickly pulled my hoodie over my head, tucking my hair behind my shoulders, to conceal some part of my identity. The Mutant basked in the horror, cackling loudly before leaping up onto one of the buildings. Strangled noises came from onlooked as it crawled up the wall like a bug, before it pulled itself up onto the roof and dashed from sight.

Growling, I went to follow it when I suddenly fell over and crashed into the ground. Hot liquid coated my tongue and I spat blood from my mouth.

Looking to my feet, I let out a frustrated squeal, which went unnoticed by the people now rushing for their cars. My hair fell around my face, whipping against my cheeks and hanging over my eyes. I angrily shoved it from my face then quickly tied up my dumb laces, trying to hold back my frustrated cries. I didn't have time for this.

"Fuck," I muttered when blood slipped down my face. I held up my sleeve to my nose where the aching resided then shakily stood to my feet.

A vibration in my back pocket caught my attention and I quickly pulled out my phone. Lila's name flashed on the screen—she was trying to call me.

Helga? Nel suddenly asked. Did you get it?

Not yet, I responded, declining the call then shoving the phone back into my pocket. It ran off—I can't see it anymore.

I think I know where it's going.

My breath hitched in my throat. Where?

Shouts and screams grabbed my attention. I looked up to people running away in terror, headed for my direction. They weren't the same people who had just witnessed the Mutant; no, those people had either left or hidden in their homes. These ones looked like they had come from deeper in the city; their faces were pulled tight as they ran. I had to quickly jump out of their way, which they barely noticed as they ran down the street I had just come from.

Don't tell me, I said, noticing the faint smoke rising from between the taller buildings. It was rising from a section that wasn't too far from here—probably ten minutes.

Another attack, Nel grimly confirmed.

I asked her not to tell me that.

Nel, how am I supposed to fight it? I asked, my head reeling. I'm not sure how much I could take of this. I don't have any weapons.

I've already got that handled, she answered quickly. Just get here!

I wanted to believe her. I should've believed her. But this—this was new. I'd never charged into a fight without my pin. Sure, I'd learnt to make do without my powers, but my weapons? My abilities? That was a whole other story.

And, safety aside, how was I supposed to even get in without being recognised? This apparently was in the actual city, there would be people there. If someone recorded me like this, then I was beyond screwed. How was I supposed to fight without my identity being seen?

And then my eyes caught onto a familiar shop.

It was one that would snatch away my dignity. But it unfortunately was also one that was necessary.

I sighed defeatedly.

"Well, shit."

It was another Mutant that I found.

It was kneeled in the middle of the street, holding onto a large sword that was mounted into the ground. The aura this one emitted brought chills to my spine. Its one eye was shut, like it was mediating, and its bright, orange hair danced across its face.

Behind it were spiralling, sharp rings of light that spewed out energy which tore up the roads and tossed cars like leaves.

The air was heavy with burnt tires and smoke hung in a haze which obscured the sky. The wind howled in my ears and twisted around my exposed skin. Cops were hidden behind some of the upturned cars, using them as shields, as they yelled commands at one another. My stomach sunk when I recognised Lila's Dad among them.

I clutched the plastic bag to my chest and ducked into an alleyway. My body buzzed with a shakiness as I dropped the bag to my feet. My breath was trapped in my throat and I needed to stop shivering so I shook out my hands.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod."

This wasn't happening.

This so was not happening.

It was my worst nightmare, bottom of the barrel—fighting a Mutant as Helga.

Well, at least, a small voice from the back of my mind said, it's not Serec.

I shrugged, nodding. True.

But still—I peered to my latest purchase, the neon green plastic practically laughing at me with its lack of subtlety—this was pretty dang humiliating.

And expensive.

But the sound of another car alarm firing off had me shaking my head and focusing on the task at hand. Grasping the bag, I forced myself to strip down and quickly change into the clothes inside.

I pulled my hair up into a neat, high bun, and shrugged a bit to get used to the loose fabric around my shoulders. I raised my chin and placed my hands onto my hips, trying to imitate Superman with a false sense of confidence. He, after all, went around flashing his underwear to everyone so surely I in comparison wasn't—

Oh, forget it. This was my worst nightmare.

A small light sprang from my bundle of clothing on the ground. It was from my phone, lighting up with Lila's name again. I rolled my eyes and declined the call—she could wait.

"Helga?"

I looked up. "Nel?"

The cat was peering down from the roof above me, her bright eyes piercing the smoggy sky. She nimbly leapt down and I watched as she glided through the air, closer and closer—

Her paws suddenly slammed into my face and the force sent me to the ground. A throbbing racked through my tailbone and I rubbed my nose, glaring as Nel landed calmly in front of me.

"Nel," I growled. "You fu—"

"What are you wearing?"

I blinked for a moment then sighed, looking down at my clothes—or rather costume. My bee costume. It was a yellow catsuit, with tiny hexagonal patterns to resemble a honeycomb with two black stripes around my waist. The yellow sleeves ran down arms and were attached to a set of gloves that had black fingers. And the pants fell down my legs unceremoniously and contrasted pathetically with my worn tennis shoes.

All in all, I looked absolutely ridiculous.

"It was either this or Wonder Woman," I sighed in defeat. Nel gave me a look so I added, "I'm not giving them those headlines on a silver platter."

"And a bee will make these headlines instantaneously disappear?" Nel asked in an amused sort of way.

I scowled—mentor my ass.

"It might," I weakly fired back.

"Perhaps we should change your name from Blue Jay," she suggested with a smirk. "Queen Bee sounds more appropriate, don't you think?"

"Queen Bee?" I scoffed, offended. "Ridiculous. You sound utterly ridiculous."

"Well, at least I don't look it."

"Oh, button it," I snapped. This bullying tactic she was taking was extremely immature. And highly inappropriate, considering the timing. "Where's my weapons?"

It was as if I had uttered magical words because the smile immediately dropped from Nel's face as she snapped back into business.

"Right," she nodded and drew symbols in the air with her paw. I followed the way she moved this time, recognising some of the signs, before there was a bright flash and I covered my eyes.

The light flushed over me and I could see shapes from under my eyelids. The light died down and I opened my eyes to a sword hilt and two golden vambraces floating in front of me.

"It was all I could get in such a short time, I'm afraid," Nel admitted apologetically.

But I barely acknowledged what she said as my attention was stuck on the hilt. The vambraces sunk to the ground as I grasped onto the hilt. It was slighter bigger than my hand and gold, like the vambraces, but seemed to have incantations etched into the metal.

"Oh, gee, thanks, Nel," I said dryly. "Where would I be without you?"

She scowled at me like I was the idiot. "Press the button."

I looked down to the top of the handle where, true to her words, resided a button. I pressed it and a silver blade whooshed out of the handle, almost slicing my cheek.

"Jesus!" I gasped.

And Nel, the little shit, had the nerve to flatly add, "Look out."

I scowled at her—dumb cat.

The blade was long, zinging over my shoulder and into the air, yet it was light. I was bewildered at how little weight it seemed to carry, it was almost like holding onto a feather.

"One of the better swords I've come across," Nel explained. "It's strong enough to injure the most durable of creatures but light enough so it won't throw off your balance."

I tried to let her words comfort me, but fear gripped my throat. I could still hear people screaming in terror and I felt blood rushing to my face. This Mutant was stronger then the others I'd fought—how was I possibly going to make it?

"I've never trained with a sword before," I pointed out.

"Yes," Nel nodded grimly. "But you're a quick learner. And you have your shields."

"Yeah, barely."

"But you have them."

I pretended that her words had an effect one me. I swallowed the lump in my throat, shifting into autopilot, as I reached down to collect the vambraces from the ground. There was a flushing sensation stirring in my chest, but something buzzed in my ears as I touched the metal. Putting the vambraces on, the sensations became overwhelming. Energy was coursing up and down my veins, making my hands tremble. I could imagine magic weaving in and out of my abdomen, travelling up my throat and glimmering in my muscles.

"What's with the armour?" I heard myself ask. I'm not sure if I really wanted to know, or if I just needed something to distract myself.

"It'll protect you," was all she said.

Right.

I pressed the button and watched the blade sink back into the hilt. I stared at the shadows sprawled across the walls, and wondered how on earth I ended up here—dressed as a bee, talking with a cat and about to fight a demon thing.

I struggled to stand, my knees were shaking, and shoved the hilt into my belt.

"Get somewhere safe," I told Nel over my shoulder.

Smog was pressing down onto us, no doubt pouring in from that fucking Mutant. It clogged my nose and twisted in my throat. But I shut my eyes to suck in a sharp, long breath—I could do this.

"Wait, Helga," Nel said before I left. "Here."

I slowly turned to her where she pushed forward a simple black mask. It somehow felt plainer than the one Blue Jay had. I didn't know if it was because it didn't come from magic, or if it was my mood. But it was better than the one that came with this dumb costume.

"Thanks, Nel," I said with a sad smile, putting it on.

She nodded with a smile.

And somehow, looking into her eyes, I was able to gather something. They had a softness that I wasn't accustomed too. It looked similar to last night when she had managed to calm me down. Only this one was without words; it was just the way she gazed at me that seemed to offer me her support.

"You still look ridiculous."

But then she had to ruin it.

"Shut up, Nel."

Fun fact: I kept replaying the Wonder Woman trailer music over and over to write this chapter. That shit is epic, is anyone else excited to see it? And Birds of Prey! DC's looking promising with its female superheroes!

Anyway, so what did you think? We got some Shortaki and a section from Lila's point of view! Truly, she was so relieving to write about. Speaking of which, lemme know if y'all are over the POV changes, I'm trying to really limit them to make it more consistent, but occasionally I like shifting away from Helga.

acosta perez jose ramiro: Yesss, I'm trying to build to Lila being different to how she's percieved, pretty much the same as Helga in a sense. And I'm definitely excited to write about everything you mentioned - like Olga and Bob. Thanks so much for the review, dudette!

Nikki Pond: Heyyy, it's been a while! i'm glad you like it, expect more in the future XD

NikaLionHeart: Thank you so much, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well! And I might just take you up on that offer XD

Sargentakpompi: Yassss, they're gonna be such a killer pair! I'm excited to get to them becoming a team! Thanks for the kind words!

Kryten: It certainly would, but dunno, we're just gonna have to find out ;))))

dvd123: Girl, you are honestly just the best! Your reviews always make me so happy and encourage me to keep writing this! Yes, Lila is very similiar to Helga in that she hides things behind a facade and she's finally beginning to let loose! Helga's family are so interesting and complex, I love including them in chapters, even if they're been obnoxious! And Lila's reaction shall be within the next few chapters, my friend! Thanks for your wonderful words!

Annnd that's a wrap. Hopefully the next chapter won't take too long, but its very action-y. I'm also curious to know if you guys have any predictions, I'd love to read them! Once again, if you have any questions, fire away on my tumblr!