A/N So, would you believe I was helping this secretive Central American culture overcome a deadly disease, and the next thing I knew, I'd been asleep for two months? I figure it could have been way worse... No?

Apologies to everyone who's been waiting for this update - some of you already know that a change in my routine has cut my writing time way down. I'll do my best to keep up the pace! Until then, I hope this chapter proves to be worth the wait (again...), and my usual huge thanks to everyone who read and reviewed last time.

SILENCING NATURE

Chapter 16 - Say It Out Loud

The dim light of the storeroom made Helga's eyes seem even brighter, especially from this distance. Phoebe concluded that her prior observation, while not necessarily wrong, had fallen a little short. The war of emotions behind those eyes was escalating. Actually, it seemed to be approaching a full-blown thermonuclear conflict! Phoebe was by no means a stranger to Helga's frequent explosions – being her best friend generally meant that she was responsible for defusing half of them, or that she'd otherwise find herself standing right at ground zero – but she wasn't sure she could recall ever seeing Helga quite this charged. Her breath was hitched, and her forehead looked sweaty. Her hands, Phoebe suspected, were clammy too, though they were presently clenched tightly at the smaller girl's shirt. Anyone else might have been terrified of an imminent visit from Ol' Betsy… But this wasn't anger. It wasn't panic either, at least not quite yet. Phoebe knew perfectly well that Helga internalised a great deal of her feelings – a vaguely superhuman feat, based on how strong some of Helga's emotions could apparently be – and this, whatever this was, appeared to be the result of something very, very big forcing its way to the surface.

Scratch that. Considering Helga had gone to the trouble of 'excusing' them from the dining room, dragging them down the hallway and sequestering them in an oversized broom closet, Phoebe had to conclude that 'something very, very big' was about to be released voluntarily. It was exceptionally rare that Helga was willing to share, and that alone gave a hint to the gravity of whatever was coming. But exciting and daunting as that concept was, Phoebe had one bigger, pressing concern.

"Helga, I believe you're crushing my septum…"

"Whuh?" Phoebe would never have guessed that Helga's eyes could get even wider, but she managed it somehow for a brief instant. "Oh! S-sorry." Releasing her steel grip, Helga took a step back, leaving Phoebe to give her sore nose a comforting rub. The separation might have drained some of the intensity from the moment, but the blonde girl didn't miss a beat before beginning to pace back and forth.

"Thank you. Now could you please elaborate? What worked?" Phoebe removed her glasses while she spoke, doing her best to clean them with the hem of her shirt – Helga had steamed up the lenses.

"THIS!" Helga threw her arms wide, not even glancing in her best friend's direction. Her sudden volume caused Phoebe to jolt, the spectacles almost clattering to the floor – she scrambled to get them back into their proper position before she could find herself half-blind and a few thousand miles away from her optometrist, while Helga continued her frantic steps. "This trip! This whole, cockamamie, 'let's get Arnold to San Lorenzo so he can find out what happened to his missing parents' scheme! Phoebe, it actually worked!"

"Ah." Phoebe nodded, smiling. "Well, certainly I agree. Given that Arnold actually located his parents as a result of this excursion, alive no less, I'd have to say things turned out even better than we could have hoped! I'm sure he must be exceedingly grateful."

"Oh, you have no idea…" Helga muttered, before releasing a short burst of giggles. But then she quickly shook her head, waving a hand almost dismissively, much to Phoebe's surprise. "I-I mean, yeah, of course! Arnold actually got back the long-lost family he's apparently been pining for his entire life. It's fantastic, incredible, magical. Hey, couldn't happen to a nicer guy, right?" She shot Phoebe a quick, fraught smile. "But that's not what I'm talking about, Pheebs. Oh-ho, no – I'm talking about the fact that for once, just for once in my cruddy life, something actually, finally worked out for ME!" She came to an abrupt halt as she finished, wheeling round to face her friend, eagerly gesturing to herself as though this revelation should have given Phoebe all the information she needed.

And in truth, Phoebe could see one particular conclusion that might be drawn from Helga's rambling. A conclusion that, quite conveniently, could be described precisely as 'something very, very big'. Colossal, actually. But the thing to remember about conclusions like that is to be extremely wary of jumping to them too quickly. It can be dangerous to assume, especially when being wrong would be such a crushing disappointment. Still, she felt her heartrate quicken.

"Um, when you say that it 'worked out' for you," Phoebe began slowly and carefully, "are you simply acknowledging that you've managed to return from your adventure without suffering any serious injuries?" She started with what seemed like the most obvious answer.

Helga responded with another slow shake of her head. "Definitely a major bonus, but no, that's not what I'm talking about." She nervously tapped her fingers together.

Phoebe gulped, her mouth suddenly feeling a little dry. "Are you referring to the fact that your actions during this trip have been significantly more impressive and noteworthy than Olga's?" It was a well-founded guess – few things left Helga feeling more gratified than getting one up on her sister.

"Hey, n-nice of you to say, Pheebs." Helga's body seemed completely on-edge, like half of her wanted to break into song and dance while the other half ran away screaming… "But nope."

"Did… did you perhaps locate some sort of valuable treasure..?" A decidedly more farfetched suggestion; it seemed pretty unlikely that Helga could be concealing a king's ransom of gold and jewels in the pockets of her cargo shorts… Phoebe's voice had been growing quieter, but the hopeful feeling in her chest had been increasing just as steadily.

"Well yeah, but it fell off a cliff." A shrug, another quick, dismissive wave. As far as Helga was concerned, compared to what she'd actually won, the golden, glowing Corazón wasn't worth a bean.

"I… see." Phoebe quirked a brow – that was probably a topic for later. But for now, her alternatives exhausted, the time had apparently come to ask the biggest question of all. Phoebe took a deep breath, mentally crossing her fingers (and toes for good measure), before looking her best friend straight in the eye. When she spoke again, her voice was a just above a whisper.

"Helga, are you saying something happened between you and Ice Cream?"

The only response Helga could offer was a nod, her brow furrowing and the corners of her mouth twitching up into an extremely anxious smile.

A tiny "Oh!" managed to escape Phoebe's lips before her hands could finish their journey to her mouth, covering it tightly. Her eyes widened, and she felt them begin to prickle and fill with moisture – while it was rare for Phoebe Heyerdahl to be moved to tears, it could happen when the situation really called for it. But just as she was beginning to tremble, Helga darted forward and reaffirmed her grasp on the smaller girl's shoulders, shaking her as gently as she could manage.

"Phoebe! I know, ok? Believe me, I get it! But I need you to keep it together here. Don't freak out!" Her eyes were pleading again.

"W-why not?" Phoebe could barely process her thoughts, and that was saying something.

"Because I'M freaking out!" Helga released her grip, if only to pull on her own hair.

"Given the circumstances, couldn't we both freak out?"

"Absolutely not, for two very good reasons. Number one," Helga dramatically raised a finger, "something happened last night. Or… several somethings. Things so unbelievably amazing but so completely, impossibly nuts that I can barely even think about most of it without passing out at this point. But I'm about two hundred pinches in and I'm still not convinced that this isn't just some cruel, half-starved hallucination I'm having when actually we're all still sitting in pirate jail waiting to see if Harold or Curly is the first to take up cannibalism – which, believe me, sounds way more likely that what I'm supposed to believe actually happened – so I need you to calmly help me convince myself that this could actually be real. And number two," a second finger joined the first, "I'm pretty sure that my legs are gonna give out soon, and that means you can't freak out too, because we've only got one chair!" She finished, gesturing wildly to the room's lone seat.

Phoebe briefly considered suggesting that the table standing nearby might also be sat upon if need be, but she thought better of it. Instead she quickly nodded, trying her best to contain her excitement. All the same, her hand shook slightly as she went to move her glasses once more, this time to gently wipe some of the lingering wetness away from behind them, and her voice couldn't help but quaver when she spoke.

"Well, first of all, I can assure you that this is quite real; we are most certainly not still trapped in Lasombra's encampment, and none of our friends are planning to consume us for sustenance." She decided to withhold her opinion on who just who would snap first in that scenario – Harold's behaviour with that melon had been a little concerning.

"Exactly what a hallucination would say!" Helga pointed an accusatory finger, still looking slightly crazed.

"But more importantly," Phoebe chose to disregard the comment, "Helga, this is such wonderful news! Surely this is precisely what you wanted!" Her face lit up with understanding as she thought back to Helga's odd behaviour in front of their group; their abrupt departure suddenly made more sense. "Is this why you became so agitated in the dining room?" Unfortunately, the very mention of the dining room seemed to push the blonde girl closer to panic.

"Well, doi! I was doing just fine right up until the newly-discovered Shortman tribe went and made their grand entrance!" Helga slumped back against the door with a thump, one hand on her head and the other clenched tightly at her chest. "Hey, never mind that I narrowly avoided a violent death a bunch of times yesterday, or the fact that I spent last night sleeping on a rock in the middle of some mythical jungle city after having the single most unreal night of my entire life – I've just spent my morning stuck on a delightful hike-slash-riverboat cruise with Arnold and his ridiculously cool jungle explorer parents, who not only exist all of a sudden but who apparently, somehow, actually LIKE me, if you can believe that, except that right now they're down the hall, living it up and swapping stories with around a dozen people who could let slip at any moment that I've spent most of their time away making their beloved son's live a living heck, not to mention OLGA, who's probably already taken this opportunity to casually drop the kind of humiliating factoid about me that anyone with a normally-functioning brain would only ever use to blackmail their worst enemy!" She spared a moment to shudder at the idea. "So obviously I had to get out of there before I could make myself look like even more of a psychotic freak than I have already, but now I'm stuck knowing that sooner rather than later, on top of everything else I've got to mentally and emotionally deal with thanks to the last twenty-four hours, I'm gonna have to go back in there to try and preserve whatever burning shreds of my reputation are left, while simultaneously trying to work out how to keep Arnold from deciding that what happened with us wasn't just the single biggest mistake of his entire life, his parents from hearing something that's going to make them want to take out a restraining order against me, and our idiot classmates from tearing me apart if they get wind of ANY of this! OH!" She threw her hands in the air. "And all ideally before Big Bob and Miriam show up again to give them all some more of that good old, award-winning PATAKI TREATMENT!" She paused, left panting by her own rant. Her voice was ragged when she continued. "So you know what? Yes, Phoebe; the dining room was making me feel agitated."

At some point during Helga's speech, Phoebe's eyes had grown wide again – partially due to shock at Helga's impassioned tirade, but perhaps more due to her friend's particular choice of words.

"That certainly is… rather a lot to process." Her words caused Helga's shoulders to slump, a response coming through gritted teeth.

"Ya think!?"

"However, if I might infer a positive," Phoebe offered a hopeful smile, "I take it that means Arnold does not presently consider whatever happened between the two of you to have been a mistake?"

Helga immediately opened her mouth to deliver another 'enthusiastic' retort, but her best friend's pinpoint observation rang true. Instead, she turned her gaze to her feet. "It… doesn't seem like it." She conceded after a pause. Saying it out loud, and knowing at least on some level that it was true, made her stomach either flutter or churn. Maybe both at the same time, which was just downright confusing… It flew in the face of everything she had come to expect from her life! Trying to ignore the swarm of screeching anxieties that had amassed in her head since reuniting with their group, she instead thought back to Arnold's words before they entered the hotel. How he had spoken to her with such soft reassurance and understanding. She recalled the feeling of his thumbs gently ghosting over the backs of her hands, the memory alone causing her cheeks to grow warm… She shook her head. "But I figure that just makes it even more likely that I'm dreaming up this whole thing!"

Phoebe, whose smile had become slightly wider on hearing Helga's reply, gave her a look that was both sympathetic and teasing, her hands on her hips. "Well I could always slap you, if you believe it would prove you're not imagining things."

"Nah, tried that already." Phoebe's efforts earned a weak smirk. "I dunno – if this isn't all in my head, how about you tell me something I don't already know?"

"I think you realise that doesn't make sense…" Phoebe reasoned. Seeing her friend merely shrug, she released a slightly weary sigh. "Banging your head against a wall expends approximately 150 calories an hour."

"Huh, no kidding?"

From the look on Helga's face, Phoebe could tell that hadn't done much good… She finally decided to be blunt. "Helga, perhaps I could help you more if you actually told me what happened."

Helga blinked on hearing this, then gave a hesitant nod. Sure, leaving the dining room was more an emergency evacuation than anything else, but that was why she dragged Phoebe along for the ride, wasn't it? Away from prying eyes and listening ears. Hadn't she been waiting for this all morning? She needed to say it out loud to somebody for the sake of her sanity, and Dr Bliss was half a continent and one pre-scheduled appointment away. But now that it finally came to it, her mouth suddenly felt like it had been stuffed with cotton wool. It was rapidly dawning on her that she'd yanked Phoebe aside and marched them down here full of fire, but without anything remotely resembling a 'plan'.

"It's all been so crazy, Pheebs. And there's so much, I… I don't even know where to start!"

Phoebe tried not to roll her eyes. "You know, I have already been informed that you spent the last day in the company of a hidden society of jungle children. Are you really suggesting that the circumstances of whatever happened are stranger than that?" It was meant to be a rhetorical question – Phoebe had thought she was making a reassuring, logical point. But her brow raised when Helga just anxiously bit her lip in response. "Oh… Well then… If the circumstances are really that peculiar, maybe it would be easier to start with the bottom line. If I may ask, what is the present, uh, status of things between you and Arnold?"

Helga wasn't sure whether to laugh or groan. The bottom line? Their 'status'? Of all the last day's nonsense, that seemed like the craziest thing of all! Well, maybe that was an exaggeration – probably depending on whether you asked her or Tiukwí… In any case, she couldn't deny that it made sense to start simple. When she tried to form the words, though, they seemed to catch in the back of her throat, and clearing it didn't help.

"Well, w-we, uh… Arnold, he…"

The room was starting to feel warmer all of a sudden, and had it always been so cramped in there? Helga scowled at herself. Three short, simple words; why was it so stupidly hard to just say them? She pretty much wanted to shout them from the rooftops, so spitting it out in the privacy of a nice, quiet room to her best friend should be a cinch! And hey, just because even thinking the words made her head feel hot and fuzzy, and her heart feel like it could burst, that was probably no reason to be apprehensive, right..? In any case, something was holding them back, and the more she tried to force them out, the more her chest seemed to tighten in protest. But it was then that she felt a small, gentle hand take her arm, pulling her, and she found herself being guided to what had been now been designated the 'freak-out chair'. The battered old thing groaned and complained, even under Helga's slight weight, and coughed up a thin cloud of dust to hang in the still air, but it was a comfort all the same. Phoebe didn't need to say or do anything more – she simply stood close by, patiently watching and waiting.

"Ok. Ok…" Helga at last managed to begin, with forced calm. Her gaze remained firmly fixed on her hands, which sat tightly balled in her lap. "So, first off… he knows. Arnold is officially aware that I… y'know… love him." She instantly heard a soft gasp escape her best friend's throat and couldn't help but lift her head, raising an inquisitive brow.

"I'm sorry." Phoebe murmured. "It's just that in all this time, even with everything we've done, you've never actually said it out loud before. Not to me, at least." And not awake – she tended to discount the pork rind incident. "Anytime we've discussed your actual feelings on the subject, it's always just been your 'Deepest, Darkest Secret' and…"

"Ice Cream?" Helga offered, looking sheepish.

"Ice Cream." Phoebe concurred with a smile of her own. "I noticed earlier that our codename had apparently become redundant. I'm pleased it wasn't just a slip of the tongue. So, Arnold is finally aware of your true feelings. And..?" She held her breath – she hoped so badly that there was an 'and'.

Helga swallowed hard. Her heart was racing. "A-and… heh, wouldn't you know it… he apparently f-feels the same way."

This time, Phoebe gasped louder – the answer had been more than she expected, more than she had even hoped for. "The same way?" She pressed, looking for clarity, not even realising that she was eagerly leaning forward. Her hands were clasped at her chest.

"Yeah, Pheebs." A grin finally began to grow on Helga's lips, hesitantly, almost reluctantly, but inevitably creeping in at the edges. "He loves me."

A delighted cry broke through Phoebe's usual composure before she could even speak. This time it was her turn to dart forward and grip Helga's shoulders, her face beaming, and frankly she was probably a little rougher in her excitement than her friend had been! "He LOVES you?!" She couldn't help but echo the words in astonishment, the shout seeming all the louder in their close surroundings. But she was quick to get a hold of herself – she had agreed to try and stay calm for Helga's sake – and she took a small, hasty step back, clearing her throat and flushed with embarrassment. Still, her smile didn't shrink – she was actually finding it a challenge to hold back her giggles. "Sorry. But oh my gosh, Helga! This is u-" She only just caught the word 'unbelievable' on the tip of her tongue before it escaped – given Helga's current state of mind, it didn't seem like a smart choice of words. "This is utterly incredible! He really loves you back?"

But whether Helga had even registered Phoebe's sudden embrace was debateable; her grin had quickly become huge, her expression spacey. The excitement Phoebe had seen in her eyes when they first entered was rushing back with a vengeance.

Ever open a shaken soda can?

"What, did I stutter? He loves me, ok!? Arnold loves me!" It was the first time she'd said those words out loud too, and they felt strange and alien on her tongue, like speaking a new language. But Phoebe had been right; just saying them, daring to admit them, was freeing. She giddily carried on, her voice becoming dreamy. "Arnold LOVES me! It finally happened! After all these years of desperate longing, all the plans, plots and ill-conceived strategies, all the countless days and nights spent secretly pledging my eternal devotion and hoping that he might one day feel the same, my beloved has at last returned my feelings of affection!" She spun gleefully in the creaking chair, deftly hopping up onto her knees and grabbing a nearby mop. She clutched the wooden pole to her chest as she continued to twirl, sighing deeply and envisioning her true love in her arms. "And now he loves me! My wildest dream has become a fantastic, impossible reality, an honest-to-goodness fact – the sky is blue, the rainforest is wet, and Arnold Shortman loves Helga G. Pataki!" She couldn't help but giggle at that. "Oh Arnold, how long I've waited to hear you say those words, to feel your sweet lips on mine, my wonderful, football-headed love g-AHH!"

At the height of Helga's spur-of-the-moment monologue, the mop suddenly latched and became entangled with the swivelling seat, causing the freak-out chair to, well, freak out… The girl was sent flailing to the ground with a worrying crash. And to add insult to injury, her efforts to grab the nearby table as she fell just resulted in it flipping, and her lying on the floor covered in magazines. She growled, immediately ready to curse the chair, the mop, or both for bringing such an abrupt end to her passionate musings, and maybe the table for being a willing co-conspirator. But as the less lovesick parts of her brain reassumed control, now that she'd been brought mentally and quite literally back down to Earth, she became painfully aware that she might have gotten a little carried away. Peeking over the upturned desk, she winced when she saw Phoebe staring, her mouth agape.

There were several seconds of mortified silence before Helga could force herself into action, but she eventually leapt to her feet. "Sooo, yep… That's the bottom line. Football Head apparently loves me back. Pretty excited about it!" She scrambled to right the overturned furniture while she talked, spending several painfully awkward moments trying to yank the mop free of the chair before giving up and leaning against the table – she did her best to look casual, but suspected it wasn't working. "Any, uh, questions?" She finished lamely.

"Several."

"Yeah, that… figures." Helga glanced away, rubbing her arm. "Any questions that don't involve what just happened?"

Phoebe shook her head. "I'm perfectly aware that you're a passionate person, Helga. Especially when Ice C-, uh, Arnold, is concerned. As surprising as that was, it's actually rather nice to see you expressing positive feelings so enthusiastically for a change." It was true; Phoebe had been a witness to more than a few of Helga's furious, bitter tirades – it was quite amazing to know something like that existed at the opposite end of the spectrum. But in any case, the words caused Helga to groan and facepalm; Phoebe was suddenly sounding a little too much like Dr Bliss. There was another uncomfortable pause before the smaller girl spoke again. "Regardless, um… do you feel better now?"

"Crimeny…" Helga muttered to herself. With everything else on her plate, she really didn't feel like having to explain her little habit too. "I'm fine, alright? I mean, sheesh, I have barely slept since we came to this stupid country, y'know – it's not like it's my fault if I'm starting to go a little nuts! Just… forget you saw that, ok?" Her tone was harsh, but she sent Phoebe an imploring look. "Now can we please move on?"

"Very well then. Tell me everything!" Phoebe quickly began in earnest, unable to contain herself. She threw her arms wide. "How did this happen? When did this happen? Was it after Arnold located his parents? Did… did you finally confess, or did he confess, or-" She cut herself off, taking a breath; Helga really wasn't making this 'keep calm' agreement easy with these kinds of revelations… "My apologies; I don't mean to interrogate you, but this is all just so exciting! When you said that something happened, I imagined he'd accepted your feelings, or maybe said he 'liked you' liked you. But love? Did he actually say it to you, or did he-" The girl froze, her eyes widening again as she processed a particularly interesting part of Helga's most recent outburst. "What was that part about 'lips'?"

"Huh?" Helga's mind went blank.

"Did you two kiss?!"

Helga's cheeks immediately turned just a few shades shy of scarlet. "Ah! Heh, w-well I- That's not really, uhh… T-thought we were just gonna ignore that little slip…" She spluttered her reply, turning her gaze to the suddenly fascinating selection of magazines scattered across the floor. And needless to say, anything short of a flat denial was confirmation enough – Phoebe looked like she wanted to bounce.

"You did! Oh Helga, I'm so happy for you!" She couldn't help but release a giggle. "You finally got to sample the Ice Cream!"

"Ugh!" Helga slumped against the table, her head buried in her arms – she couldn't even find it in herself to comment on the pun. This meant that she missed Phoebe's apologetic shrug.

"The analogy was simply too perfect to resist." Suddenly though, a look of concern passed across the girl's face. "But – forgive me for needing to ask this – when you say Arnold loves you, you aren't simply assuming..?"

The suggestion was enough to snap Helga out of her embarrassment. She lifted her head, if only so Phoebe could see her rolling her eyes. "Oh, come on – give me some credit. You really think I'm gonna go ahead and assume the guy's in love with me just because I finally managed to score a couple of kisses?!"

'Perfect, electric, mind-blowing kisses!' She shook her head as part of her mind immediately went crazy at the memories – so help her, there would not be an encore performance! And besides, she was mildly offended; if Phoebe really thought there was a chance that she'd jump to a conclusion as big as love just because of a kiss or two, then her best friend wildly underestimated her pessimism. But what Helga didn't expect was for Phoebe to look even more stunned than before.

"A couple? How many exactly?"

"Uhh…" Helga's mind stalled again in the face of yet another costly slip of the tongue (plus Phoebe's penetrating stare). And in a way, this one was even less forgivable – at least Lovesick Monologue Helga couldn't be held accountable for her actions! Her cheeks burned as she thought back, her fingers reflexively moving as she quickly checked off each one. This wasn't lost on the smaller girl.

"You need to COUNT?!" Phoebe clasped her hands to her cheeks. "You were gone less than two days!"

Helga had been on the verge of asking whether kisses on the cheek counted… For the sake of her best friend's sanity she figured they probably shouldn't. Instead, she threw out her arms. "Three, ok?! Argh, wait…" She pinched the bridge of her nose – she'd almost forgotten about how she opened her and Arnold's earlier conversation. "Alright, four – four kisses. But that's all!"

"That's all?" For a moment, Phoebe was left speechless. "Helga, that isn't a sample – that's a scoop!"

Helga grimaced at that, but she couldn't exactly deny it. She also felt a swell of personal triumph in her chest, but that was beside the point. As it was, all she could do was shrug and nudge her head.

"You wanna sit in the chair?"

"Sitting!" Phoebe nodded rapidly, her voice a good octave higher than usual. She quickly moved to the seat – its swivelling days sadly behind it – and sat heavily, her hands moving to grasp her knees. It would take a while for her mind to stop reeling from that particular bomb. Her tone was as measured as could be expected when she continued. "Apparently things have escalated rather quickly..! I'm sorry for asking you to clarify – I just know how badly you wanted this. So, the multiple kisses you and Arnold have shared during the last 48 hours were not the only indication of his feelings?" Helga nodded, tactfully choosing not to mention that they'd all actually occurred within the last 24 hours, and Phoebe pressed on. "I would be grateful if you could elaborate."

Helga leaned back against the opposing wall. Looking up into the dim light, she let out a sigh. "He told me, Pheebs. Plain and simple. For once I managed to have an honest conversation with him instead of just hurling a barrage of scathing insults and spitballs his way, and he actually came out and told me he loves me." The girl couldn't help but smile softly, feeling her heart swell. Even this soon she knew, if ever a memory would be able to carry her away on a cloud, it would be the one of her and Arnold standing under those brilliant stars, finally exchanging the words she'd dreamed of since preschool. She turned back to Phoebe, not even registering the look on her best friend's face. "And he might have said it once or twice more since then."

Four times in total – you'd better believe she was keeping track.

"I see. I'm delighted to hear that." Phoebe visibly relaxed, smiling warmly in return; much as she was both relieved and thrilled by the news, she was mostly trying to remember the last time, if ever, she had seen Helga wear such a peaceful expression. She could only imagine what such a conversation must have meant to her best friend. All the same, she resisted the temptation to probe for further, specific details. It would be rude, she felt; what Helga and Arnold had shared was most certainly a private moment, and they could keep it that way. Instead, she chose to voice her amazement. "I certainly see now what you meant about this trip being a success. Considering the years of animosity, I'm quite amazed that Arnold's feelings for you could become that strong so quickly!" Unfortunately, her words seemed to bring Helga out of her moment – the girl appeared to stiffen, her expression growing uneasy. Phoebe quickly raised her hands. "N-not that it's in any way unlikely, and I'm sure Arnold was being honest. It's just rather impressive!" To her surprise, and relief, Helga continued to look more sheepish than offended.

"No, I get that, it's just… Well, it kind of turns out the ol' football head isn't quite as dense as we thought."

Phoebe processed this for a moment, and her jaw quickly dropped. "Do you mean to say he already knew how you felt about him? For how long? And how?!"

"Oh, you know, a little while." Helga sounded like she was scrambling. "And, uh… intuition?"

Phoebe did not look convinced.

"Yeah, ok…" Helga's shoulders slumped. "I mean, I might have given him a subtle hint back during the whole FTi thing last year."

Phoebe quirked a brow. "Subtle?"

'You heard me pal – I love you! LOVE you!'

"Yes Phoebe. Subtle."

Phoebe studied her best friend's face for a few moments; the blonde girl had folded her arms, and her eyes gave away nothing. "…Alright then." Instead, she turned her thoughts to the past year, a finger semi-consciously moving to her lip as she contemplated. "You know, I thought his behaviour during that dance last year was a little odd! But aside from that, I suppose Arnold has seemed less affected by your, uh, 'attentions' this year than he has previously. I'm afraid I simply assumed he was, well, becoming used to it…" She didn't miss the quick, guilty look that flashed across Helga's face at that. "But this whole time, he was… evaluating?"

"Something like that." Helga could only give a small shrug. It was either that or swoon – she could still barely handle the idea that Arnold had actually been thinking about 'them', about her, since that morning on the roof.

"And this trip, or rather your actions surrounding this trip, finally allowed him to come to terms with how he feels about you?" Phoebe continued, feeling as though a puzzle was being put into order.

"Hey, I guess I should be grateful I only had to nearly die a few times to get this far, huh?"

"Hmm." Ignoring the morbid joke, Phoebe seemed to ponder a few moments longer before reaching a conclusion. "To be honest, Helga, it's actually quite comforting to know that was the case." She shot her best friend a dry look. "The fact that Arnold has actually had time to carefully consider this, I mean – not the fact that you were in mortal jeopardy… I don't think for a moment that Arnold would lie about his feelings, especially not feelings like those, but it would be terrible to think that all this had just led to him being caught up in the heat of the moment." Helga just barely resisted the urge to headbutt the table. "After all, the lengths to which you've gone for him recently are extraordinary! Arranging the video, facilitating his escape. Lasombra might have even succeeded in stealing the Corazón if you hadn't helped intervene! He certainly owes you a great deal."

"Yeah… about that." Helga glanced away. Technically Phoebe didn't need to know this part, but… she'd done so much to help Helga get this far! Every emergency phone call, every 'life-or-death' task demanded with zero explanation, every 'forgotten' conversation. If this was some kind of finish line, no-one deserved to know how Helga got there more than Phoebe Heyerdahl. Besides, Gerald knew, and if those two really were going to wind up 'going steady' then hiding it forever would just get exhausting… She steeled herself. "Look, since you're getting all this anyway, you might as well know that whole thing didn't exactly go down the way we told you all. Gerald's version of the story, or 'legend', or whatever he's gonna insist on calling it may have included an edit or two…"

"Really?" Phoebe raised a quizzical brow. Honestly, that was a little disappointing to hear – the tale had been quite spectacular, helped of course by Gerald's rather splendid delivery. "What kind of edit?"

Helga winced. "The kind that implied we didn't lose the Corazón over a cliff."

"Oh. Ohh!" Phoebe's eyes lit up with understanding – Helga's earlier 'treasure' comment suddenly made sense. "But… Arnold's parents? The Green-Eyed People? If you lost the Corazón, how did you manage to dispense the cure? Were you able to make the machine work without it?"

"Kind of!" Helga spoke quickly, giving an anxious nod. "See, I sorta happened to have an… alternative."

"For an ancient, golden, possibly-magical heart?" Phoebe was incredulous. "What in the world could serve as an alternative to that?"

"It's- I have this- Aw crimeny," Helga facepalmed once more, "you might as well just see it, Phoebe. Everyone else has! Arnold, Tall Hair Boy, Eduardo! Heck, Arnold's parents and about a million Green Eyes have seen it thanks to it being stuck up in that machine like some kind of public art display! Here!"

Phoebe was about to voice her confusion, until Helga swiftly revealed the increasingly-famous locket, apparently before she could change her own mind – she certainly looked as though she'd just ripped off a band-aid. The blonde girl was still resolutely looking away, as if ashamed of the object, yet she held it gently in both hands like a priceless treasure. There was silence for a few moments while Phoebe processed what she was seeing. Sure enough; a heart, and a golden one at that. Not ancient, despite a scuff here and there. Through the glass, and past the white glare bouncing from the light above, Arnold's photo stared back at her – in pieces, she couldn't help but note.

"Yeah, that's right – I carry a dumb, heart-shaped locket with that football-headed yutz's picture in it." As quickly as the locket had appeared, Helga drew it back. Despite the harshness of her words, she held the heart close, gazing into the picture. She nervously lifted her eyes, finally meeting Phoebe's own. "Pretty pathetic, right?" Her brow was raised, almost questioningly.

"You produced this… in front of Arnold? When you realised the machine had lost its key?" Phoebe's quiet response caught Helga off-guard – she'd expected at least some comment on the fact that she even owned such a thing. "You woke up his parents. Oh, Helga…" The girl concluded, wide-eyed.

"Well yeah!" Helga waved an arm, as if to highlight the foolishness of the question. "You didn't see him, Phoebe – his parents were right there! The cure was literally right there! I knew what the stupid thing was supposed to look like, so I figured… I mean, I couldn't just do nothing!" She turned away, feeling foolish, and stared at the picture in her hand. It was hard to believe; all the effort she'd gone to in the past to conceal the locket's existence, the fact she had ever even thought of discarding it… But she was snapped from these thoughts by a hand on her shoulder – Phoebe had risen, and now stood by her side.

"Of course you couldn't." Phoebe's simple words of agreement belied the pride and admiration she felt for her best friend in that moment. For the second time since entering the small room, she felt moisture building behind her eyes. "It's not pathetic, Helga, and it never has been. It's devoted. And the fact that you allowed Arnold to see this is extremely brave. Both are qualities in you that I imagine he's finally coming to appreciate."

'But I've also seen you be really loyal, and super brave…'

"You sure you and Football Head haven't been swapping notes?"

"I'm quite certain. About that and everything else." Phoebe offered a bright smile. But as she continued to observe the trinket, her brow furrowed slightly. "Although, I do see what you mean about things being a little strange."

"Huh?" Helga started at the sudden change in Phoebe's tone, and quickly, reflexively returned the locket to its hiding place. She saw the puzzlement on her friend's face.

"What you said earlier, about the circumstances being strange." Phoebe clarified. "Arnold loving you back is one thing, the way you played such a critical role in curing his parents is another, but the fact that you were carrying an object which could activate the machine is extraordinary! Admittedly, I haven't seen the device myself, but I assume your locket must have matched the size of the Corazón more-or-less perfectly in order to fit. And it's even gold! I can't imagine what the probability would be, but needless to say, it's quite serendipitous." The girl gave a quick giggle. "Perhaps it was fate!"

She had expected a smirk, or maybe a sarcastic quip. But instead, Phoebe's grin faded as she saw the blonde girl's face grow pale. That essence of nervousness, anxiety, or even panic – and oh yes, plenty of excitement – was back in Helga's eyes before either girl could blink.

"Helga?"

Phoebe heard her best friend gulp, watched her agitatedly tap her fingers together, briefly glancing back and forth as if caught in a terrible quandary. And when Helga did finally respond, Phoebe noticed the subdued waver in her voice.

"You should probably sit back down."

A/N I figured these girls have at least two chapters of craziness to cover!

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