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 the chair made an awkward noise as I whirled around. My heart was in my throat and I don't know if the situation was made any better to find that I was staring at Arnold.

He stood on my right, textbook in hand.

My throat was still tight, I could feel those tears wanting to burn through to my vision. I turned away from him before he could see and reached for my glass to settle my nerves. But it was empty. Criminy, I hadn't even realised how much I'd been having.

I sighed, because now I was stuck with a burning at the back of my throat.

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

Yeah, good one, Pataki.

"Lila said you needed this," he said and placed the textbook beside my plate. Thankfully, he didn't seem too bothered with the nickname. He probably had gotten used to it.

I looked to the book—a sense of dread creeping up my spine—then to his face. He was already watching me. His eyes were moving across my face, like they were searching for something. I tensed, unsure of how I should be acting. Sometimes, it felt like if Arnold looked hard enough, he could see right through me.

Face warm, I nodded and looked away, waiting for him to leave. But he didn't. He stayed there like he was waiting for me to say something. I made a face. Any other day, being around him would make me skittish, but today, I already had a heaviness weighing in my chest. It left me even less patient then usual.

"How's the studying going?" I asked, for the sake of getting something out there. His eyes were still on my face, so I grabbed onto my glass and headed for the sink. I didn't look at him and concentrated on filling the glass.

"It's . . . quiet now," he said with a chuckle. "But better than the, erm, last time."

The room became quiet, and I didn't know what I could do to fix it. I never trusted myself around Arnold, I always said something stupid, so I preferred not saying anything at all.

I stood still as I brought the glass to my lip. Rose my eyes so they were staring out the window where the sky hung heavy beneath the clouds. Hopefully, it wouldn't start pouring today. Getting to training was already hard enough.

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

I paused, pulling the glass from my lips and wiping my mouth. I didn't know which day that he was referring to at first. Being Blue Jay, it made time feel like it was moving too fast and too slow all at once, and it became difficult to tell the days apart. I had to wrack my brain to remember when I had been Helga around him.

Then, the day flashed in my mind—the library. The frosty air. The eeriness. I remembered storming off and then coming back to chaos. Where I had to push his body out of the way.

I looked up to find him already watching me. His gaze was so sincere in its gratitude, that it ran through my heart like it were a thorn. I still didn't know what to do when people looked at me like that.

"I–It—" I looked down at my hands. Sweat was already soaking through the fabric. "It was nothing."

Something that my injuries begged to differ.

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

I shuddered.

"Don't even want to think about it," I murmured.

Arnold blinked and then a sly grin rolled across his lips. "So you do care."

I stared at him. "Well, duh, of course, football head. How heartless do you think I am?"

An answer I could live without.

His confidence crumbled slightly.

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

"Thanks."

"Um, no offense!" he took another step forward without realising. He was holding his hands up in surrender, but it wasn't like the before–times, when he had been doing so as if to protect himself from me. It was to make sure that I hadn't been upset. "But you always seemed like you . . . didn't care? Like, not in a way where you hated us, but just like you . . . were too cool, like you were indifferent. It's nice knowing that's not true."

It's nice knowing that I wasn't cool?

The thought made me laugh before I could stop myself. The sound must have been a surprise to Arnold; his eyes bounced to mine and I clapped a hand over my mouth to cover my amusement. But it did nothing and I found myself holding onto my stomach as I kept laughing. I knew that I should feel insulted, and maybe the stress was getting to me, but Arnold getting flustered had sent me into hysterics.

"Whatever, football head," I eventually said when I was able to get myself back under control.

He didn't respond.

I glanced up and for a second, our eyes met, before he looked away. His gaze darted across the room as he began rubbing his face. I didn't understand at first, until I peeked the pink beneath his fingers, burning his cheeks, and realised he was trying to hide the redness.

I rose a brow. Had it been embarrassing?

Mentally, I shrugged. Oh, well. It ended up being a laugh that I needed.

"H–How'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

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

The light suddenly shifted on the back of my neck, feeling ice cold, like it was shooting through my skin. I didn't know how to answer him, not without making myself sound suspicious. I was already pushing my luck as it is. Arnold was still disbelieving over my bruises yesterday. I didn't need to keep adding onto that.

But then I saw how his gaze darted across the room, rolling along the tiles. His hand found the back of his neck. His feet shuffled, and his Adam's apple bobbed. And then it clicked how nervous he was right now. Flustered. The curiosity was eating away at him and for once, I was in charge.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Placing the glass on the bench, I leaned back so that my waist was against the sink. Shifted the weight in my feet, so that I was slightly slanted to the side. I tilted my face, and the action made me aware that the sun was weakly shining from behind me, because it moved the shadow across Arnold's face. I smiled in a way that made me feel like Blue Jay.

I didn't know where this confidence was coming from, but I didn't dare push it away.

"You really wanna know?" I asked him.

He didn't react at first.

His gaze was tracing the sunlight that poured into my hair, following the strands where it shone the brightest. His cheeks had cooled, but his eyes were wide, like he was calculating an equation. I cleared my throat so the silence wouldn't become awkward. That seemed to get his attention; he blinked and when I lifted a side of my lips, his cheeks turned pink again.

"Uh, yes," he nodded.

I smiled and decided to cut him some slack.

"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 didn't respond at first and for a moment, I froze. Crap. Had I been getting too cocky? Maybe it was a little too hard to believe. Because, sure, that was what happened, but I was a superhero. I was much stronger than everyone else now.

But then he shrugged with a small nod.

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

For a moment, I thought that I had misheard him.

"What?"

"Can you teach me how to use my Betsy?" he repeated and stepped closer. The distance between us was rapidly closing and it made the breath in my chest hitch.

"You want me to teach you how to throw a punch—" I crossed my arms, "—right here, in the middle of Lila's kitchen?"

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

"Yeah, safe," I snorted. "Not suicidal."

And I meant it.

My job as Blue Jay was already hard as it is, I didn't need His Royal Highness, over here, running into a fight because he got too much encouragement from me. He had only just been talking about how much he wanted to get a picture of her, to the point that he would risk his safety in order to do so. I wasn't about to add more incentive and confidence to that desire.

I had made up my mind—no caving into Arnold's demands.

But then, I looked at his face, and it just about ruptured my heart. His expression had crumbled, his shoulders sagging, as the light dimmed in his gaze. It seriously replicated how a kicked puppy would react, which was a thought I hated imagining.

So—sigh—I caved into his demands.

"Okay, fine," I said, sending curses to my stupid sentimentalism.

That made Arnold's eyes light up.

His back straightened as he stepped forward again. The closeness reminded me that despite everything, he still towered over me. Had I been under different circumstances, I may have felt slightly apprehensive about teaching him how to fight—given that his tallness would likely pack a mean punch if he wasn't paying attention—but I had Blue Jay's abilities to protect me.

I was fine.

And I would have to go easy on him.

So, I gestured to myself. "Throw a punch then."

And I wouldn't lie, I was slightly insulted that Arnold's response was a smile. Not even a gasp, or a No way! I could hurt you! The least that he could have done was act a little aghast at the idea of nearly hitting me. But he didn't even pause. He stepped forward, shifting into a defensive position, and shoved his fist into the air. He made sure to stop when he was a few centimetres from my nose, but I didn't flinch.

Instead, I raked my eyes up and down his body and scanned his posture. His heels had momentarily left the floor as he rocked his weight forward into his toes.

"Your forms all wrong," I told him, balancing my chin between my thumb and index finger.

"What?"

"Your form," I repeated and looked back to his face. "If you were in a real fight, your balance would've been thrown from your attack alone."

That was putting it lightly; I only mentioned his balance, but his punch had been pretty flimsy as well. It didn't soar with confidence, it moved rather shakily. And instead of being tucked beneath his curled fingers, his thumb had flattened itself across his fist.

Arnold may have had many talents, but punching—fighting in general—was not one of them.

"So?" he gave a slight frown.

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

Arnold flinched, his hands jerking back to his sides, when I made a slight movement with my fist. But when he realised what I was doing, he tried covering it up and pressed his lips together.

I sighed. We weren't going to be getting anywhere with these mood swings.

I placed my hands onto his shoulders and closed the distance that was between us.

His eyes widened. "What are—"

"Shh," I interrupted him without moving my gaze away from his shoulders. I held them in my hands and positioned them so they would be in line with his feet. His body heat leaked through my gloves and into my fingers. He tilted his chin to look down at me, I could feel his breath washing over my forehead. I chose to ignore the heat in my cheeks.

"You're so stiff."

He jerked away from my hands. "What?"

I blinked at him. "Your shoulders?"

He reacted to that weird; his forehead had become bunched up like it were fabric. His eyes had turned so wide, and surprise rolled in his gaze like a sea. And his cheeks had gotten so red, I seriously was starting to wonder if he was coming down with something.

But then, my words caught onto him.

"Oh."

And the panic died down in his eyes.

I watched as his expression, somewhat sinking like he was realising something. Or convincing himself that something he had been seeing didn't actually exist.

He shook his face and repeated himself.

"Oh."

But his face was still red.

I tilted my face. "Is there a—"

"Sorry," he wiped his face, as if that was going to wipe away the redness, then forced his eyes straight, his expression hardening. "Sorry, let's try again."

I examined him, the way that he organised his features into a frown. He wasn't angry at me, but it almost seemed like he was determined not to look at me. I rose a brow, wondering where that had come from, but then shook my face, deciding it didn't matter. Best just to get this over and done with.

"Alright," I said then moved behind him. He stiffened again, but he didn't look and allowed me to do whatever I needed. He sucked in a harsh breath when I moved my hands beneath his elbows from behind him. Tension swelled in the back of his neck as I moved his elbows inwards and towards his ribs.

"Keep your shoulders relaxed," I reminded him and patted down on his shoulders. "You're tensing again."

He stayed quiet as his shoulders slowly slackened. They didn't look completely relaxed, but I figured that was as good as we were going to get.

I stepped backwards, chin between my thumb and index finger again, and re–examined his form. His face was still red, but he kept his gaze focused over my shoulder and out the window. I didn't make a comment on it because his posture was far more appropriate this time.

"Okay," I gave a nod. "Go again."

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

"Uh," I frowned. "What're you hitting?"

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

"It's head?" I repeated and raised my brows. "You've just broken your knuckles."

"What? How?" He blinked and dropped his fist.

"Well, you're punching its face," I emphasised. "That would hurt for any old human, let alone one of those things."

And I really meant that. The state of my knuckles . . . they were better than before and had mended themselves enough that now, they were throbbing bruises, but had it not been for my healing reflexes, I would've been fucked.

It occurred to me that becoming a Guardian shone a light on how little I really knew about fighting. I had carried myself like I knew what I was doing, or that a punch from me would send you right into the hospital. But looking back on it, I hadn't known shit as Helga. I didn't fight often, but when I did, it was purely instinctive. I would throw myself in and punch whatever I could reach.

I'd been a wild animal, one that moved fiercely but without thought. Now I had to quickly think up strategies on the spot and find weaknesses in my opponent to use to my advantage. Even without my powers, it was undeniable that I had improved since the before–days.

Thinking back on it, shame burned from my cheeks. I really had thought that I'd been such tough shit.

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

"Well, think about it, football head," I waved a hand. "Your bones are smashing into more bones—doesn't sound too fun, does it?"

"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. "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 and had I not been looking at him, I would've forgotten about it as soon as I said it. But I watched as something flashed in his eyes and a tightness twisted in his face. I found myself stepping away 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 wrapped my fingers around his palm. He released a noise, sucking in another breath, and his shoulders tensed again. I knew that he was panicked, his gaze poured into my face like molten honey. I tried not to think about that, or the fact that my own cheeks were turning red. I held up my hand, tucking his fingers in and brandished his palm in 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 into a fight with a Mutant. But at the very least, I hoped it could be a technique that he used if he ever found himself in danger. Once again, Arnold wasn't a fighter, and this would be better then anything he would have actually have done.

I stepped back with what I hoped was an encouraging smile and gestured for him to go again. I was watching his feet as it happened, studying his balance more then his attack. He moved forward, and when he did, something occurred to me—a bright idea. An idea that was so unlike me, I didn't know where it came from. It may have been brought on from the confidence that I felt from having a conversation with Arnold where I was explicitly the one in charge. Or maybe, it was the stress having finally getting to me, making everything fuzzier than what it was. Or hell, maybe I was riding a little too high on the Blue Jay confidence. But whatever the reason, in hindsight, it was a terrible idea.

So, when Arnold stepped forward, shooting his palm out, I sidestepped his attack. Wrapping my fingers around his wrist, I gently twisted it to the side. It wasn't enough to hurt, but it did surprise him, and for the third time, his breath hitched as I flew forward and looked up at him.

I grinned.

"And now what?"

He didn't respond right away.

In fact, he didn't respond for a while.

I blinked, smile dropping a little, until I realised why he wasn't responding. In my haste to catch him off his guard, I hadn't realised how forward I had propelled myself. And now, as I looked up at him, I realised how close our faces were.

The distance between our chests had become so small; I only needed to hold my hand out and it would be pressed against his shirt. I flushed at the thought. His lips had parted and his eyes widened in their shock. They darted over my face, moving from my forehead to my eyes, before hooking onto my smile. His eyebrows rose like he was seeing something for the first time, and I felt something twitch beneath my fingers. I twisted my attention back to his wrist, where his fingers had frozen in their curved state. There was a rapid beating that pressed beneath my fingers and pushed itself out until the room filled with its steady flutter. It was someone's heart pounding but with my senses, I wasn't sure who it belonged to.

Light spilled across the tiles and pushed our shadows into the wall. Our forms were moved into a shape that looked more intimate than it was. I moved my eyes back to his face and noticed things that I often glazed over because of the distance between us. The freckle at the top corner of his lip. The darkness of his lashes. The way that the light hit his cheek. It was beautiful. He was beautiful, while I—

I was still holding onto him.

I pressed my lips together.

He swallowed.

"Uh," he released a breath. "Helga, I—"

I shoved him away before he could finish that sentence.

Everything rushed to me like I had hit play on a movie that had managed to freeze. The beating in my chest trembled in my fingers. The light had become hot on my skin. Something hot crept up from my back until it had filled my face like it were a kettle, whistling that the boiling was done.

"Sorry, I—"

"No, i–it's fine, I—"

"—got kinda caught up in the—"

"—wasn't helping by being weird ear—"

"—and ohmygod, when did it get so hot—"

"—probably should even be chasing them anyway—"

"—so, I just—"

"—Yeah." We both finished, somewhat lamely.

The air stiffened and it felt like it would crack in my chest. I didn't know what to do because I still wasn't sure what had happened. It was all still catching up to me; one minute, I had been here, teaching Arnold how to fight, and then the next I had been . . . there—

His gaze was hunting for something. I wasn't sure what it was, but when I looked up to meet it, a flush crept up his face and he looked away.

I blushed, for whatever reason. I didn't know what he had been looking for, but it didn't really matter, Arnold had always had that affect on me. I shoved my hands behind my back, so he wouldn't see how much they were shaking. Blinked down at my shoes. Crud, trust me to make it awkward. Trust me to turn the rare scenario where Arnold went to me for advice, around so hard that it had him wanting to run for the hills—again. Seriously, what was up with that?

The air between us had become a thick and rapid pulse—glass that wanted to shatter—until he released a breath.

I prepared myself for it. 'You're a freak, Helga.' 'Last time I ever go to you for advice.' 'Lila would never be so weird.'

But it never came.

Instead, he said—

"Thanks, Helga."

I paused, not expecting that, and turned my gaze back to his. His expression had become slightly shaky; his lips wanted to lift into a reassuring smile, but they twitched, like doing so required too much effort. His Adam's apple trembled, he was forcing himself to take deeper breaths then necessary. And his cheeks were still glowing.

Oh, my god, I had done it. I had finally done it, the thing that no one in Hillwood had accomplished in doing: I had broken Arnold Shortman.

I had gone too far and now, he regretted ever talking to me, and he was going to storm out of here, rip his books from the table, and declare he never wanted to step foot into Lila Sawyer's house. Which wouldn't be a bad thing, but then, Lila would go ahead and be like, 'Arnold, what brought this on?' and he would be all, 'It's that Pataki girl! How could you ever bring her here!' and she would cry, 'We were paired together, Arnold! It wasn't my fault! Please, don't leave me!' and Gerald would be like, 'Let's burn the witch!' and my life would totally be over.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to plead—which god did I piss off? Why was I their punching bag? When wou—

Wait a minute.

He was thanking me?

"I, um—" I blinked. "What?"

"For teaching me."

Oh. Right.

"It's nothing," I shrugged to show that I didn't care. That I wasn't affected with what he said. Because honestly, it wasn't that big of a deal—

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

I suddenly became aware that there was a shift in the air. His stare felt heavier, like it was demanding that I meet it. I did exactly that and was surprised to see how genuine he looked. His eyes had softened, the corners slightly crinkling from how his mouth rolled into a relaxed smile. The redness had cooled into a slight pink.

"I don't know how you know that," he added, "Other then just being Helga . . . and it's really cool."

I expected to be offended by that—he was totally saying that Helga was synonymous with a brute—and maybe, on some level, I was. But then, he chuckled, and I felt a zap of something in my chest. That smile, those freckles, that face.

Criminy, was I in love with him.

The feeling was a heat that crept from my back until it had wrapped around my neck to bloom in my face. The air was ambrosial coated, softening until it was pressing into my cheeks like clouds, and painting pictures in my mind. Memories. Of how kind he was, how kind he had always been. How much I loved him for it. How much I wanted to follow his example. How much I did when I was Blue Jay. And he was complimenting me, right now. And I still hadn't said anything. I looked for words to give to him, but everything had hooked into a stop.

I had no idea what to say.

I looked away and reached for my glass. Everything had become too hot and moved too fast. I tilted the glass back against my lips to swallow the rest of the water.

Silence found us.

Arnold waited for a response. I could feel his eyes boring into my face.

Not at all pressuring or anything.

I fixed myself to say something, stringing together any and all the words that I knew into hopefully, what would be a coherent sentence—

When a chilling feeling hit me.

The hairs on my neck stood straight. Two holes were burning straight into my skull. Someone was watching me. I whirled around, searching for them when—

The glass slipped from my fingers and exploded into wet, sharp shards at my feet.

"Shit," I heard Arnold hiss.

But I didn't react right away; I searched out the window, scanning for anything suspicious. But I found nothing—it looked 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.

Nothing.

What the—

"Helga?" I heard Lila call.

I wheeled around to find that Lila and Gerald had rushed in from the living room. The expressions on their face were identical, eyes rushing around the room in search of what happened, before falling onto Arnold. I followed their gazes. I hadn't even realised that he had crouched to the ground to begin scooping the shards into his palm.

Shit.

"Helga, are you okay?" Lila asked and when I looked, it was like her eyes had never left me.

"You need help, dude?" Gerald began moving to the paper towels before he even received a response. He unravelled the paper and approached his friend.

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

"Shit, Arnold, I—" I froze when I saw that Gerald was glaring at me. It wasn't an unfamiliar glare. It was one that defined my childhood; when someone wanted me to stop talking. To shut up because I was only making it worse. I had gotten us into this mess, so there wasn't a point in trying to get us out.

He moved his gaze back to his friend and kneeled down to pick up the glass with the paper towels. Lila announced that she was going to get the band–aids and dug through the drawers.

And I watched it all happen in silence. Feeling like I should never have even come here. Because Gerald was right, what good was I when I was the one who got everyone into these messes anyway?

Arnold's eyes found mine like I had been calling for him, but I turned away.

"I need some air."

And by air, I meant water.

Which didn't help.

Because why would it?

My eyes were burning holes into the mirror as droplets rolled down my face. They spilled across my cheeks and washed away the makeup I had slapped on before I left this morning. The bruise on my cheek was now a yellow splotch. It was better then last night, but still noticeable.

Crud. How was I going to explain that?

Who was I kidding? I couldn't stay. Not after that had happened. I wasn't exactly sure what 'that' actually was, but that moment between Arnold and I, in the kitchen? It needed to stop. I didn't have time for this, for daydreams and fantasies. I needed to stay focused on my reality, on my goal. I needed to focus on Blue Jay. Gerald's glare was a good reminder; the world didn't need Helga, but it needed Blue Jay.

My heart was still pounding. The hairs on my neck were still tall. I wanted it to be because of Arnold, but I knew that it had been something else. No one had stopped me as I clambered down the hallway for the bathroom and shut the door behind me. Good. I needed a moment; I needed to think up an excuse.

Hey Lila, I know that we have this super important assignment due, but I need to bail—again. No, it's not because I had a moment with Arnold where I looked like a total dingus and was probably drooling in his shirt, or something. I actually have a super important date that I forgot to mention . . . yeah, his name is Tissues and a Giant Cheese Pizza on Friday Night, because if nothing terrorises the city and I'm not bleeding out on the street, then I'll be alone home and crying over some Bridgerton episodes . . . ever heard of him?

Yeah, the excuses train hadn't taken off yet.

But at least, while I was here, stuffed in the bathroom, I was safe. Or I could pretend to be. With the door slammed shut and silence pressing into me, it was like I was locked in another time zone. I couldn't hear them, and they couldn't hear me.

I didn't have to pretend when I was in here. I didn't have to pretend that we were all safe, that I hadn't felt something watching me.

The silence began to swell until I could hear a pulse ringing in my temples. The butterflies in my stomach had tied themselves into knots. I didn't want to throw up, but I was high on alert. My spine had become so rigid that threatened to break into tiny splinters. My fists were twitching against the rim of the sink. I wanted to fight whatever lingered at the back of my mind.

I had taken off my gloves and thrown them against the tap so I could wash my hands. The bruises had disappeared and the skin across my knuckles were a bright pink. They no longer throbbed; I was sure that I could fight again.

I sucked in a breath and found that the air was sweet in here.

Lillies.

This bathroom was homely; small, a tight fit, but warm. The vanity was a light pink while the counter was white quartz. You could barely see it though, from beneath all the tissues and soaps and fragrances. There wasn't a shower, but a bath was shoved beneath a little window.

Shaking my hands, I reached for a small towel then wiped my face. With the fabric pressed against my skin, I let out another long and shaky breath.

I needed to leave.

It didn't matter what I said. I couldn't imagine that they'd do much to stop me anyway.

But . . .

I pulled the towel from my face and tossed it down where it had been folded. I scanned my reflection and held a hand to cover the bruise on my face. I sighed, wracking my brain for solutions. I could ask Lila if she had any spare makeup. Explain to her that it was from when that Mutant had slammed me into the desk. I don't think she was looking that closely, so maybe, she wouldn't question how the Mutant smashing the back of my head into the table would result in a bruise on my cheek. I could even ask that she not bring this up to anyone else. She was nosey, but I felt like I could at least trust her to keep this between us.

The bruise, that is.

I sighed again and pulled my hoodie back over my head. Shoved my gloves on. The assignment was almost finished—maybe only an hour was needed. Ducking out slightly earlier couldn't be offensive to anyone. And even if it was, it didn't matter. I had bigger concerns then school right now.

Then . . .

I caught sight of movement in the reflection.

Frowning, I looked over my shoulder.

I glanced over the bath, the corners of the walls, even caught onto the dust particles floating in the air.

But I couldn't see anything.

A light breeze pushed through the open window and the curtains lifted into the air. The feeling deepened and my fingers ached from around the counter.

I sighed, pressing a hand to my temple. Maybe I was being paranoid.

Shrugging, I straightened and went to leave when my ears caught another rustle.

I looked up, this time in 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 came back down, and he turned to them, the shards at the bottom of the trash. "That's the last of it."

Lila nodded and continued wrapping the band–aids around Arnold's fingers. She pressed her lips into a line at his stiffness. She was well aware of the effect that she still had on him. Her stomach shifted in her discomfort, but she ignored it so she could finish tending to her friend.

"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked him. Her voice rung like a bell as it broke the silence that had settled between them. She glanced up at his face and when their eyes met, the hot flush was back and he nervously looked away.

She bit back a groan. Moments like these were what had pushed her away from him.

"Um, y–yeah," he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. But despite looking away from her, she could feel him leaning towards her. It made Lila want to sigh. She knew that Arnold did this without realising it. That sometimes, he became so enamoured with people—girls—that he moved closer to them. He never noticed it, his mind filling with their presence. Truthfully, she had found it cute, how he became so besotted that it was like their presence was tugging him along by a string. But then, it happened to her and Lila found herself on the receiving end of his need to close the gap between them. And every time that it happened, her chest flared in her annoyance and she had to bite her lip to stop from screaming.

Subtly, she moved back to put some of that distance back between them.

"Thanks, Lila," he said, oblivious to her movement.

His lips pulled into that smile that many fell victim to. It didn't make her heart stutter, but it did hurt her. Arnold was one of her closest friends and she cared about him a lot. It honestly hurt her to constantly keep forcing distance between them.

But she wasn't interested.

She nodded and turned to Gerald. She pretended not to see the silent argument that he and Arnold were having. She knew from the way that Gerald narrowed his eyes and made motions to her with his head that he was egging Arnold on. Encouraging him to make a move. It made her want to scream. It was like everyone was against her. They were so caught up in what Arnold wanted, that they were unaware of what she wanted. Or what she didn't want.

She didn't want a move to be made.

"What happened with Helga?" she asked, louder than necessary. It succeeded in startling the boys who then pretended that they hadn't been silently arguing about her.

But when her words registered, Gerald scoffed.

"I dunno," he crossed his arms. "Pataki's always been weird."

"Gerald," Arnold scolded.

Lila, on the other hand, rolled her eyes.

Honestly, this rivalry between them was getting ridiculous. Lila had hoped that yesterday their hostility would cool, but the moment that they had seen each other today, the bickering had started again. Lila wanted to rip her hair out as she tried settling them back down. When the two of them were in the same room, she much became a mother stuck between her children who wouldn't shut up at least to finish their dinner. She wanted to scream and tear apart the glass that she had locked herself behind.

And what made it even more foolish were that neither Gerald nor Helga were that different from one another. They were both over–protective, in way over their heads and the most stubborn people she had ever met. When they made their minds up about something, they stuck to it and wouldn't listen to reason, unless that reason was coming from their own mouths. Arnold had even agreed with Lila that had they been willing to put their pride away, Gerald and Helga could have become great friends.

"She seemed troubled," Lila admitted, somewhat stiffly. It was seriously getting hard to remain patient right now. The boys looked at her and she eyed as something settled over Gerald's tight features, before turning to Arnold. "Did she seem off to you?"

Arnold looked to his bandaged fingers.

"I don't know," he said, and his voice came out strange. "Not that I could tell."

"What were you even doing?" Lila pressed. She couldn't help herself. Although she phrased it in a way that made her sound simply curious, rather than invested.

She hadn't made it a secret—to Helga, at least—that she liked the idea of Helga becoming romantically involved with Arnold. When Arnold had left to go to the kitchen—citing the book as his excuse—she had swelled with her excitement. Gerald had glanced up whenever there were noises or shuffles coming from the room, but she had directed his focus back to their studying. Told them that they were probably just talking and whatever was happening, it didn't involve them.

In other words, she had lied straight from her ass.

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

Oh, yeah right.

Inwardly, Lila rolled her eyes. For someone who went around, knowing people's business so he could help them, Arnold himself could be quite a private person. It made it harder for her to get a read of him, particularly when it came to Helga.

She knew that there had always been something strange between them. But they were both so adamantly guarded about one another, she could never quite put the pieces together.

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

Helga had always been a secretive person, moreso than Arnold. She couldn't lie, but she could avoid. She was good at keeping that wall up and keeping herself from the crowd. But there had definitely been a shift in how she had approached things lately.

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

Yeah, she wasn't blind. She knew that Helga had always had it in for her. And she largely suspected that it was down to jealousy. Everyone knew that Arnold had a thing for Lila, including Helga. Even if she had given up on winning Arnold's affections, that didn't mean that she stopped viewing Lila as a romantic rival. Which honestly hurt her; she felt like she was being disregarded. Everywhere she went, people were trying to shove her into Arnold's shadow. They would pause and laugh when they noticed how red Arnold had gotten, because she had looked at him a little too long or brushed her hand against his skin without even realising it. They didn't mean anything by it; they thought it was cute. But it nonetheless frustrated her. Lila felt like her identity was being stuck to his side.

And yet, Lila could never level her frustration onto Helga. She could never return that hatred. There had been many opportunities, but she just never could. She hated being seen as just a pretty face, which Helga obviously saw her as such, but she had always seen something inside Helga.

Something that reminded her of herself.

But everything had seemed to change these past two weeks. It was like Helga had been drained of her hatred and filled with something else. She was moving differently, carrying herself like she was someone else. She had spent these past few years wanting to blend in. And for the most part, she had succeeded. But now, it was like she had become too tired to keep up that pretence. She moved like destiny was dependent on her. It was with a sense of weariness, she always seemed like she was on high alert.

At first, Lila chalked it up to the attacks—they were so unpredictable, and Lila had seen how they were impacting everyone. But this was different, it was too personal. Something was having an emotional toll on her.

Theories bubbled from the back of Lila's mind. Ones that felt too outrageous to even be spoken out loud.

"Look, she probably just got nervous or something," Gerald finally said and when he did, it made both Arnold and Lila jump from their thoughts.

Lila blinked, having not even noticed that Arnold had been spacing out as well. She furrowed her brow slightly and wondered what it was that he had been thinking.

"She'll be down soon," Gerald continued and when Lila looked, he was rubbing the back of his neck. "And I doubt she's gonna be pleased to find us gossiping about her."

Okay, Lila had to admit, that was mature.

Not that she didn't think that of her friend, but he could get weird about Helga. Everyone could. It seemed like no one in this city knew how to feel about Helga Pataki.

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

All overthinking it. Lila raised an eyebrow. What was he overthinking?

But she then became aware that they had turned their gazes over to her, silently asking for her to acknowledge their conclusion. To stop asking questions. Truthfully, she doubted that Helga had fled because she had gotten nervous. Helga may have been shyer than what she led on, but Lila knew that that extreme of a reaction hadn't been down to butterflies.

And a part of her felt like she already knew the answers.

But outwardly, she smiled and caved into their demands.

"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!