**A/N: Ah, the brainchild of insomnia and boredom at work (hooray for running a store alone for four hours!). SOOOOO sorry for those who started to read this chapter when I first posted it. I know, I promised that I would finish the chapter about two weeks ago, but life became MAJORLY drama-filled and I didn't really have much writing time. However, I do have the full novella more-or-less figured out, so, pending writing availability, chapters should be posted in moderately frequent intervals.
OK, so...Hey Arnold! and its franchise are owned by Nickelodeon and remain the intellectual property of Craig Bartlett. I do not own any of the used characters or locations. But I hope you enjoy anyway!**

LIFE AFTER YOU

The warm wind blew through the truck, tossing Arnold's blond hair. His left arm rested on the door; his elbow sticking out the window. His right hand lazily gripped the top of the steering wheel; his mind racing with anticipation.

A green sign came in to view, forcing him to bolt upright in his seat. His eyes stayed fixated on the sign. "Hillwood 15 miles" raced by the right side of the beaten up, blue pick-up. Arnold's heart got lodged in his throat as he scanned the horizon for the first visible sky-scrapper that would mark the end of his journey.

Two days. The amount of money he spent on motels, food, and gas - let alone the stress of not sleeping, even when he did have a bed - it was almost worth it for Arnold to have purchased the plane ticket. At the very least he would have been able to get this over with so much sooner.

He allowed himself to close his eyes for a second and heavily exhale. Almost home. Funny how he still considered it that, even though he hadn't actually lived in Hillwood for almost four years now. Then again, he did spend the first fourteen of his life there. It all balanced out. Until he lived somewhere else for longer than fourteen years, Hillwood would be home. Besides, knowing what awaited him there would always prevent Arnold from thinking that anywhere else could be home.

Arnold glanced at the little marker along the side of the road. Twelve more miles. He could have sworn he had driven more than that. Why did the miles take longer now? When he was so close and just wanted the miles to fly like they did the first day, why were they mocking him by being so long?

He started tapping his finger against the steering wheel as his eyes darted from marker to marker; now acutely aware of each one of them. Mile 234 8/10. Mile 234 7/10. Mile 234 6/10. It was painful watching the miles tick away so slowly. He tried choking his heart down again and only managed to press harder on the gas pedal.

Finally, another mile passed. Eleven more to go. So close. He was so close. That familiar pain in his chest refused to ease up. He coughed and snorted, attempting to force as much air through his throat as he could. If only he could break up that clog his heart was creating just behind his Adam's Apple.

As he neared the end of yet another painfully slow mile, his truck abruptly jerked forward. A loud rumble and putter encased the cab as the truck jerked again. Arnold could feel the pick-up straining against the gas pedal.

"No!" Arnold firmly gripped the wheel with both hands as he started pleading with his vehicle, "No, no, no! Please. Don't do this. Come on. Little further. Just a little more. Please. Hold together for a little more. I'm almost there!"

Ignoring his pleas and prayers, the truck stubbornly started billowing out smoke. Cursing, Arnold reluctantly pulled over to the side. Once stopped, he placed his forehead on the steering wheel and softly sobbed. He was so close. If his truck had broken down yesterday or the day before it wouldn't have been so painful, but he was right there.

After roughly three minutes of sulking, Arnold inhaled deeply and released all that air in a heavy sigh. Lifting his head back up, he turned to his cell phone in the cup holder. His stupid pick-up wasn't going to stop him when he was so close. He scooped the phone out of the cup holder while his other hand pulled on the door handle. Kicking his door open, Arnold jumped out of the cab and then slammed the door shut behind him. He dialed the Sunset Arms boarding house while walking through the smoke seeping out of the hood of his vehicle.

Each ring was painful to him. He shouldered the phone and popped open the hood to let the smoke free. Maybe it just overheated. Maybe he could be on the road again in about a half hour. He walked back over to his driver's side door and leaned against the truck.

"Pick up. Come on, pick up," he prayed to the Sunset Arms residents. Someone had to be around. Anyone. "Someone, please." Finally, a wave of relief washed over Arnold as he heard a click.

"Hello?" Arnold's voice cracked as it pushed past his heart, which was apparently now keeping residence in his throat.

"Hello?" A raspy woman's voice crossed over the line. She seemed bewildered by Arnold's question.

"Grandma! Oh thank God!" Arnold pushed himself off of his truck. His salvation came in the form of his own grandmother's voice.

"Who is this?" And there it went again.

Arnold slumped back against his truck and sighed, "Grandma, it's me. Arnold."

"Oh, no. Arnold hasn't lived here for years. You must have the wrong number."

"Grandma, no-" A click and the dial tone stopped Arnold mid-sentence. Gertie's dementia had gotten worse over the years, but Phil had been with her for so long he just couldn't bare to put her in a home. Everyone agreed that it was best for her to spend the last years of her life in a familiar surrounding, but Gertie was as feisty as ever. At this rate Arnold almost expected Gertie to even outlive him.

Arnold attempted the boarding house again. As the phone rang he prayed that anyone besides his grandmother would pick up the phone. Unfortunately for Arnold, Gertie was the only one home at the time. Mr. Hyunh had recently moved out of the boarding house. His daughter Mai was pregnant and Mr. Hyunh had moved in with her and her husband. He had missed out on Mai's childhood, and they all wanted to make sure he was around for his granddaughter. Ernie Potts was out on a date with a retired roller-derby champion. According to Arnold's grandfather, the two made a very cute couple. Ernie needed a girl who was as tough as him. Susie Kokoshka had dragged her husband Oskar out to a few annex classes at the local college. She made sure to also take the classes with him in order to be certain he was taking the schooling seriously. Susie was determined to make something of her husband, even if it killed her. Phil, on the other hand, wouldn't be gone the entire night like the others. However, Arnold's timing couldn't have been worse. Phil had just left to go pick up Gertie's medication from the corner pharmacist. Arnold's only way home would be if his grandmother had one of her random lucid moments.

After trying three times, and each time having a different experience with Gertie's hallucinations, Arnold finally gave up on trying to get his grandfather to pick him up. He wouldn't have been able to make it through if he tried calling back anyway. The last time his grandmother picked up she started yelling about an evil dragon wreaking havoc in the hallway, and then her voice became more and more distant. She must have been chasing a bug or one of her cats and wandered off without hanging up the phone.

Arnold checked on his engine. The smoke was still flowing, but not in such a large cloud. He silently cursed at himself for never learning anything about cars. Aren't guys supposed to know how to fix an engine or something? Feeling helpless, he attempted Gerald's cell phone. He was sure that it wouldn't be a problem at all to get his best friend to drive out and pick him up, especially since they hadn't seen each other for almost a year.

Straight to voice mail. Right, it was Friday. Gerald usually took Phoebe out on Fridays. There goes that idea. Arnold didn't even bother leaving a message. It would be useless to wait for him. Frustrated, Arnold threw his phone through the still open truck window. What could he do now? With a deep breath, Arnold rumbled a belly-deep, animalistic scream. Birds in the nearby trees all chirped loudly in response as they flew away in terror.

Arnold started to tug at the hair on the back of his head, trying despirately to figure out how to get to Hillwood now. He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. Nope. Seems like a AAA card didn't magically appear when he needed it. Why is it that men don't think they need a membership? He knew that he didn't care how a car ran; that he'd never learn how to maintain one. So why would it have been such a big deal to get a AAA membership - especially with his piece-of-junk pick-up?

Only a ten dollar bill as well. Not enough to take a taxi through Hillwood, let alone ride one from ten miles out of town. Might as well forget about getting a tow truck while he was at it. Arnold threw his wallet through the truck window as well.

The wallet hit his cell phone as it landed on the passenger seat, and flopped back open; the photo album insert showing. Arnold rested his elbows on the truck door and cupped his head, rubbing his eyes with the heals of his hands. As he ran his fingers along his hairline he slowly re-opened his eyes. The first thing he saw again was his wallet, and his reason for coming home.

It was weird that particular picture was visible. No one even knew he had it in his wallet. He had it tucked in the middle of the album insert, and usually it couldn't fall open. The way it was designed, it didn't matter how Arnold handled his wallet, the album insert would always display the first picture unless he specifically flipped through the rest of the pictures. Yet, somehow, when his wallet fell open that particular picture ended up showing. Was it a sign to keep going? That all wasn't lost?

The optimistic determination that Arnold was renowned for returned to him. With renewed strength, he opened the truck door, grabbed his cell phone and wallet off of the passenger seat, yanked his keys out of the ignition, and turned towards the horizon.

Nothing was going to stop him. If he could quit so easily then what was he doing here? No, he needed to continue. He had to complete his mission. Nothing else in the world was as important. He didn't give up when his neighborhood was going to be demolished. He didn't give up when his parents went missing for a decade. He didn't give up when his classmates all thought he was crazy for believing in someone. No, Arnold had always kept his faith and fought for what he believed in. How could he give up now?

With an encouraging nod to himself he stared down the Hillwood skyline, just barely in view, and started off in a sprint. Talking to no one but his hidden picture, he whispered, "Just a little longer, Helga. I'm coming."

He quickly became entranced by the rhythmic sound of his feet hitting the pavement. The horizon faded from his view and her face was the only thing he could see. It was the only thing he needed. He could find his way back to her even if he was blind.

He let out an abrupt laugh at that thought. He was so mad at Helga for pretending she was blind that April Fools Day in fourth grade. The crap she put him through that day. But he had to admit after the fact that he actually had fun. Sure, it was a pain at the time, but he enjoyed taking care of her again, like he did after he hit her with the baseball. He cringed a little as he pictured the poor girl getting beaned. He shook the image away and saw instead his tango with the "blind" Helga. Sure, when they were actually dancing he was just focused on distracting Helga so he could throw her in to the pool, but after the dance he routinely replayed that moment in his head. Not even Gerald knew at the time, but Arnold couldn't get that tango out of his mind. He now smirked as he remembered how confused he once was. Why did he think such a seductive tango was the best way to distract Helga? Was it because he knew she loved him? Was it because he wanted an excuse to be so close? Funny how he couldn't see what was so blatantly obvious. Helga and him were meant for each other. No matter what.

No matter what. Arnold's smile faded as he remembered why he was running in the first place. Why was he so stupid? He wouldn't have to sprint now if he just was smart back then. Why did he do it? Why couldn't he see it? Why?

The sun was beginning to set. Purple, orange, and red hues danced across the sky, blending in to a warm blanket coating the city. The clouds were puffs of cotton candy being eaten by the sinking sun. Arnold remembered that beautiful sunset. It was bitter sweet that such a gorgeous setting could house such a painful memory.

He couldn't remember what they were talking about, he just remembered Helga's face. Her features hardened, eyes narrowed, and her eyebrows furrowed. He should have seen the explosion coming, but somehow it still nearly knocked him off of the park bench.

"Stop it!" Helga jumped up abruptly, her fists clenched tightly beside her hips.

"Helga?" Arnold braced himself against the bench. He knew she wouldn't hit him, but that didn't seem to keep his heart from racing.

"Just shut up, Football Head!" She turned her back to him. She crossed her arms in front of her as if calling someone safe at base, "I'm done. I'm not listening to this anymore."

"Helga, what's wrong?" He stood up to place a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off and whipped around to stare intensely into his eyes.

"What's wrong? Listen to you! Can't you love me for me?" She started pounding on her chest and breathing heavily.

"Helga, I do love you for you. I don't understand why you're upset." Arnold tried to grab for her hands, but she kept pulling them away as she backed up.

"Do you, Arnold? Do you really? Because all I hear is you trying to change me." Arnold stopped grabbing for her. "Lately all I get is 'You shouldn't be so mean, Helga' or 'You really should give your mom more credit' or 'Maybe you should try bonding with Olga' or 'Do you have to act so tough?' And I'm sick of it!"

"Helga-"

"No! Stop. Stop trying to change me. To better me. Crimeny, so you truly love me, Arnold? Or do you only love an idolized me?"

The wind quickly escaped Arnold in a surprised sigh. How could she accuse him of such a thing? Didn't he kiss her? Didn't he ask her out? Didn't he just spend the past three years dating her even when she was rough around the edges? Sure, he may want her to be the best person she could be, but shouldn't she want the same thing?

"Admit it, Arnoldo," Helga poked him in the chest, "you just want a little miss perfect on your arm. You can't handle me as myself."

Arnold snorted as he shook his head no. He closed his eyes. Why was she attacking him? He thought they were happy. At least, he was happy. Was that enough? He slowly opened his eyes again and looked, really looked at Helga. No. She was definitely not happy. She had valid points. Arnold couldn't deny that.

He took her hand off of his chest and gently held it, looking back at her with sorrow. This time she didn't try pulling her hand away. His look seemed to calm her somehow.

"You're right," he finally said.

It was Helga's turn to lose her breath. All the fire left her in that heavy exhale and she crumbled a little. She shrank a good inch as she slumped.

"I am trying to change you too much, Helga. And I'm sorry."

She gave him a soft smile and pulled him close. She inhaled his sweet scent as she squeezed him tight. "It's alright, Football Head. Just don't do it anymore, got it?"

Arnold pulled her off of him and kept her at arm's length. Concern flooded her face as he refused to look at her.

"Arnold?"

"You deserve someone who loves you for who you are now. And you're right, I am just trying to mold you in to someone you're not. It's not right."

"Arnold?" Helga choked a little, trying to remember how to breathe properly.

"Helga, I'm just being selfish here."

"Be selfish, Football Head. You deserve to be," Fire shot back in to Helga's voice.

"Helga, you deserve to be happy."

"Doi! I am happy. I'm with you. What more can I want?" What was going on? Helga's world started to spin.

"You have so much love and passion, and you deserve someone who loves you as much as you love them."

"Arnold, don't," panic covered her words.

"I can't do this to you anymore, Helga."

"Arnold, please." She tried so hard to keep her composure, but the gasps between each word betrayed her.

"It's not right that I only see you for your potential." It pained him to see her crumble in his arms like this, but it truly wasn't right for him to keep her. She really did deserve someone better than him. She deserved a prince to sweep her off her feet. He was only putting her down all the time. Helga didn't deserve this at all, and she was right to point it out to him.

"Arnold, don't do this."

"You will find someone better, Helga." He brushed the tear that fell from her eye and nearly collapsed himself as he thought of how much he was breaking her heart. Be strong. It needed to be done.

"There is no one better than you," she looked in to those emerald-green eyes and deep down knew she would do so for the last time.

"We were wrong, Helga. We're just not as good of a match as we thought. You will find someone as passionate as you, and I wish you the best. We're just wasting time holding on to this."

"Crimeny, we're only thirteen, Football Head. We can waste time. We have plenty of it. Just, don't do this. I can still change. I can be that girl you want. I promise I can. I'll try harder." Helga had started clawing at his sleeves, trying to hold on to any part of him she could.

"You shouldn't have to. You shouldn't have to change for anyone. You're amazing as you are and you deserve someone who truly sees that better than I do."

"Arnold. Arnold, please don't do this. Stop, please stop."

"I'm so sorry, Helga. I have to let you go. It's selfish of me to keep you."

Helga couldn't find words anymore. She just shook her head. She said the word "please" a few more times, but her voice didn't work. Only the silent rush of air with each lip movement confessed her muted pleas.

"You'll find someone to love you better than I ever could, and you deserve that." Arnold helped lower Helga as she gently collapsed to her knees.

"Don't go." Her voice just barely whispered into his ear as her legs touched the grass.

"Know that I'll always hold you in my heart," Arnold kissed her on the forehead and stood up. She grabbed out for him, but didn't have the strength to hold on or get back up. He didn't want to leave her like this, but he couldn't hold on to her either. It just wasn't right. He knew she deserved someone who truly saw her.

Arnold turned his back to her and walked away, forcing himself to take each new step. He couldn't go back to comfort her. He wanted to kiss those tears away, but he couldn't. This was best for her, he knew it was.

He painfully ignored her sobs behind him. He tried to block out the image of her clawing at her shoulders as she hugged herself; her elbows digging deep in to the grass as her head buried inside her arms.

Behind him he heard her voice one last time, an anguished bellow of his name.

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he called Phoebe's cell phone. Arnold quickly apologized to her and informed her where she can find Helga. He then quickly hung up and wiped away his own tears as he exited the park.

Arnold stumbled and nearly lost his balance. He stopped his sprint as he stood for a moment. He was so stupid then. How could he even think he was doing them any good by breaking up with Helga? He wiped the water out of his eyes so he could again see the road. The full landscape of Hillwood stretched out before him. He was still a few miles out of town, but each building was fully in view.

He attempted to run again, but he was still worked up from his flashback and couldn't catch his breath. He pressed on, pushing himself to throw one leg out in front of the other, but all of his panting quickly got the better of him.

"Damn!" Arnold gasped in pain as his side suddenly ached. Stopped a second time, he cursed the sky and wondered why this had to be so hard. Why was everything stacked against him? He refused to not move forward, and so he hobbled his way down the road.

Placing a hand on his back pocket, Arnold slid his fingers in and fished out his wallet. He stared at the closed bi-fold for a moment before quickly flipping it open and thumbing to his hidden picture of Helga.

She was celebrating her Sweet Sixteen. Even after the split, they attempted to remain friends. It was difficult to just be pen pals, but their lives quickly got chaotic and it was hard to find a good time for both of them to be on the phone. They did manage to hang out whenever Arnold visited Hillwood. Him and his parents journeyed down roughly six times a year. Once for each of his grandparent's birthdays, once for Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and his parents were even willing to make the long trip for Arnold to spend Gerald's birthday with him.

Thankfully, Easter came early two years ago, and Helga's birthday was just one week before. Miles and Stella didn't mind the week-long vacation, plus the college Miles taught at was on break for Easter anyway. It was a little awkward, but Arnold was glad he managed to make Helga's sixteenth birthday party.

He remembered thinking she was gorgeous. The older Helga became, the more masculine she dressed. Her attire now routinely consisted of jeans, a guy tee, and a hat covering her trademark hair bow. However, she was willing to dress up for important events, and her family actually remembering her long enough to throw a Sweet Sixteen party was definitely one of those important events.

She wore a red tea-length dress. It was form fitting without being clingy. White short sleeves detached from the thick straps, leaving her shoulders bare. A pink sash, in a reminiscent shade of her elementary age dress, was tied around her waist with long tails draping down towards her knees. Her hair was half up; the top of her locks were pulled back in tiny pigtails. Each pigtail was secured with a tiny pink hair bow. Even at age sixteen, she still could not give up the element Arnold first complemented her on. Arnold had to smile when he noticed that.

She tore through her house, actually appearing to enjoy herself as she worked the crowd that showed up to celebrate. Arnold wasn't sure if it was regardless or because of the few times he saw Helga a year, but he barely had a moment with her. He didn't really mind though, he enjoyed watching her. She probably didn't even know he took the picture, let alone that it was stashed in his wallet. She was casually leaning against her staircase, probably talking to Phoebe, and had the brightest smile as she laughed. Arnold stared at the picture and imagined that smile was for him.

Arnold wanted to see that smile again so badly. Re-energized, he placed the wallet back in his pocket and started running again. He breathed through his side ache as if he was in Lamaze training and kept his mind focused on what he was going to say to Helga when he finally reached her. How much he wanted to hold her again. The smell of her shampoo lingering in her hair.

It didn't keep him long to finally pass the threshold of the city; he slowed to a walk as he neared the first building off the highway. Placing a hand on the stone front of the building he instantly felt like he was officially home. He was inside Hillwood, and it wouldn't be much longer until he was at Helga's Brownstone. He let out a deep sigh and placed his forehead against the rock, "I'm almost there. Finally."

His breathing back to normal and the pain in his side receaded, Arnold smiled as he started jogging again. He was in his last stretch and his legs no longer felt weighted down. Instead, he barely noticed the cement under his feet. He raced through the streets, absentmindedly watching for cars. His body felt filled with helium as he floated across the sidewalk. The street signs and buildings passed by in a blur. He could almost feel her soft skin against his arm.

The old neighborhood. So close. He debated stopping by the boarding house to see if there was finally someone around who could take care of his truck. He couldn't stop now though. His truck could wait, Helga waited long enough.

Slausen's Ice Cream parlor. Arnold started to ache in anticipation. He was just a few more blocks away. That's it; just a few blocks. No longer miles away from her. His heart reawakened in his throat, reminding him that it never quite gave up residence there. It was hard for Arnold to inhale, and his exhales were in quivering sighs.

Finally, after such a long and trying journey, the blue-painted brownstone came in to view. It was still about a block away as Arnold sprinted past the Sub King sandwich shop. The smell of the fresh baked bread reminded him that he last ate about eight hours ago, but there was no time to stop and have food now. He ignored his stomach's pleaded growling and pushed forward.

The rowhouse grew to tower over Arnold as he crossed the last street. With a widening grin, he vaulted over the bottom banister of Helga's front steps, landing on the second step. Skipping steps as he climbed the remaining stairs, Arnold finally collapsed at Helga's front door. Slumped against the green painted wood, Arnold delicately placed a hand on the handle. He could almost feel her inside the house. He closed his eyes and just concentrated on his breathing. After all of the running he did, Arnold struggled to catch his breath. His lungs were burning and his legs shook as they struggled to keep him standing. As much as he would love to be cradled by Helga, he figured fainting into her arms would not make the best impression after such a long time apart.

After steadying himself, he slowly ran his fingers from the handle up the door frame. Once his hand was about even with his nose he pushed himself upright. His hand lingered on the door and he stared at it, cursing at it for not knocking. He was right on her doorstep, why couldn't he make his hand knock on the door?

With a deep, soothing exhale, Arnold finally convinced his hand to slowly ball in to a fist. One more deep breath. Abruptly, his arm whipped back and he finally managed to rap his knuckles against the door. No backing out now. With more deep breaths Arnold stepped back and tried to contain his heart inside his chest. He stared at the door, imagining Helga slowly opening it. Her hair blowing gracefully in the light breeze, her arms opening wide to welcome him in.

No one answered.

Shocked that he was left standing outside for so long, Arnold knocked again; a little louder this time. A warm wave rushed over him as his nerves started to show. It was hard to breathe again and his clothes felt heavy all of a sudden.

Still nothing.

Arnold backed up further from the door and glanced up at the house. Did he not notice that everyone was out? Why not, that was exactly how his day was going. His eyes landed on the right window on the second floor. Helga's room. It still had the purple curtains from her sixteenth birthday. The light was also on. A shadow moved and then he saw her. Helga walked to her window and quickly turned, leaning her back against it. Her hair was up in a ponytail today. Her pink t-shirt fell slightly off her shoulders. She looked amazing.

Arnold tried to call out to her, but his voice cracked, still horse from all of the exercise he endured. He couldn't seem to get enough volume to reach her window. She was home, though. She just had to hear his knocking. He tried one last time, as loudly as he could. A long, continuous knock. "Come on Helga," he begged, "hear me."

Finally the door violently swung open. "What?" Helga angrily questioned the unwelcome visitor. Her eyes immediately softened and her mouth gaped once she saw who was on her stoop. She let out a breathy sigh, "Arnold." Her full posture weakened, shocked to see her first love standing in front of her. "Wh-what are you?" she caught how soft her voice got. With a quick head shake to clear her mind her hard exterior returned, just like when they were kids. She stood erect again, but was still shorter than Arnold. Her face got hard as she frowned at him, "I mean, what are you doing here, Football Head? No birthdays in the summer."

Arnold couldn't help but smile at her. He knew by now that the harder she was on him the happier she was to see him. It was a good sign. Still not able to find his voice, he did the only thing he could think of, he stepped forward and gathered her in to his arms.

Helga's eyes bolted wide open as she was pressed against Arnold's clammy chest, his warm arms wrapped around her. She let herself stay there for a moment as she breathed him in, remembering what he smelled like. Although, he did seem a bit muskier than she remembered.

She turned her head so she could get closer to him and hug him back. She started to raise her arms to wrap around her lost love, but then she opened her eyes and saw the stairs leading to the second floor. Helga's breath got caught in her throat as reality came rushing back to her. Instead of holding Arnold, she used her arms to push away from him.

"Who said you could touch me?" she angrily demanded. She took another quick glance up the stairs and tried to choke down the knot that started to form.

"I'm sorry, Helga," Arnold smiled at her, staring with half-lidded eyes.

"So what are you doing here?" she interrogated.

"It's a long story, but it ends with me wanting to tell you that I still love you."

Helga stumbled backwards and just barely caught herself on an end table her family kept in the hall. All of these years. Why now? Why did he realize he still loved her now? Why couldn't he have figured this out sooner?

Arnold rushed to her side to try to steady her, but Helga again pushed away from him. "Arnold," she didn't quite know what to say.

"I know I was real stupid," Arnold moved towards her again, slowly. His legs still buckled underneath him.

"Arnold, don't-" Helga kept tossing her eyes back and forth between odd-headed boy in front of her and the steps leading up to her bedroom. How was she going to explain this?

"Helga, I'm sorry it kept me so long to figure it out, and I'm hoping that you could give me another chance."

"Arnold, please don't," as much as she tried to hide it, her voice started to shake as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Helga, please, I drove two days straight, had my truck break down, and had to run ten miles to say this-"

"What?" Helga couldn't believe what she was hearing. Arnold had done all of that? To talk to her? He had always been a romantic, but did she deserve all of this from him?

"It's hard for me to talk, so please let me get all of this out," Arnold took Helga's hand. She yet again glanced up the stairs and nervously nodded.

"Make it quick," she reluctantly conceded, her heart racing.

"I was foolish to think that I was actually doing either of us any good by breaking up with you and staying away," Arnold started the speech he had spent the better part of the past hour preparing. "I should have never tried to change you. I should have never doubted the woman you'd become or how amazing you were and will always be. I should have never doubted that our love could survive the long distance. I just didn't have enough faith in anything, and I'm so sorry."

Helga pulled her hand away from Arnold's and turned him around to again face her front door. Behind his back she again glanced up to her bedroom, "Apology accepted. Thanks for stopping by, Arnoldo."

With a faint laugh Arnold stepped out of her way and spun back around. Gently grabbing her shoulders, Arnold turned her towards him, "Helga, I'm not done."

"Arnold," she needed to get him out of her house, but she had to admit that she was melting with every word Arnold said to her.

"Helga, I'm not me without you. When I said goodbye to you a part of me died, and it kept me almost four years to realize it. I need your spunk and defiance. I need the challenge you bring; the excitement each day. I really don't care anymore if what we had was right or if we were wrong to be together. There is no one else that I'm nearly as happy with. I've tried. I hung out with other girls, I even agreed to go out on dates, but I was empty each time. There wasn't that spark that I had when I went out with you. Even when you and I were just hanging out as friends, I had a better time than I ever did with any other girl. I've been so alone, so empty without you in my life. I tried to deny it over all of these years, but I could never keep you out of my head."

"Arnoldo, your timing is impeccable," Helga muttered, shaking her head. Why, dear lord, does he realize all of this now?

"I know," Arnold brushed his fingers across the side of Helga's face. She turned her head, pulling away. "I was completely blind. For someone to have twenty-twenty vision and not see everything he needs standing right in front of him; my only excuse was temporary blindness. And stupidity. And youthful ignorance. I truly thought I was doing what was best for you, but now I want to be what's best for you. I want to spend the rest of my life hearing you laugh and seeing you smile."

"Arnold, I can't, I just can't." Helga pulled away fully, leaning against the stair banister. It was a similar pose as Arnold's picture of her, but almost the antitheses of it. She was broken and sorrowful now. She didn't have that laugh and light she had that day.

"Helga, with everything we've been through together, we're the only ones who truly understand each other. No one could ever get me like you do. No one else was there for me when my parents couldn't be. There is no one else for me. I couldn't possibly live without you. I could go through the motions for the rest of my life, but you would be the only way I would have light in me. You are my light."

"Arnold," Helga placed a hand over her mouth and fought to keep her tears inside. How could she break his heart? She knew how much it hurt. She just couldn't do it to him. She already felt the familiar pain in her chest as she looked at this broken man, still shaking a little. Was it because of his confession or was he still weak from the run? Ten miles, damn.

"Please, just one more chance," Arnold looked longingly at her.

Closing her eyes, Helga motioned towards the door, "I'm sorry, Arnold, but you need to leave."

"Helga, please. Just think about it."

"You need to go."

"Helga, just give it a minute to sink in."

"Arnold! We can't do this. Not now." She heard a shuffling upstairs. Things were going to get ugly soon if she couldn't get Arnold out of her house.

"Fine," Arnold caved and started for the door, "can you at least give me a ride to the boarding house? My legs are still rubber."

"I'm sorry," she shook her head no.

With a huff and a clench of his teeth, Arnold calmly asked, "Then how about a glass of water?"

She couldn't be so cruel as to not help him recoup from his marathon, so she reluctantly nodded and motioned for him to go sit in the living room. As he moved past her, Helga again looked upstairs. "I'm so sorry," she softly whispered, "I'll be right back, I promise."

As Arnold sat down in Bob's recliner, Helga went to get him water from the kitchen. She had no choice now, she had to tell him. It was going to be awkward and uncomfortable and painful, but Arnold deserved to know the truth. How was she going to tell him.

The water sloshing around in the glass as she took it to Arnold betrayed her nerves. She let him take a few sips and relax in her father's chair. "Are-" Deep breath. "Are you comfortable, Arnold?"

He smiled his response to her. "Arnold, it's a good thing you're sitting. Because I really need to tell you something too."

Smiling back, Arnold asked, "what is it, my dear?"

"Oh, I really wish you didn't say that last part. The thing is, Arnold. I- Well the thing is that- What I mean is- Damn it, girl, just tell him!"

Arnold looked up at her confused. What was so hard for Helga to tell him? He just confessed that he still loved her, so what could be a bigger grenade than that?

"Well, Arnold," she tried again, "back around my Sweet Sixteen. My head was- no, that's not right. I was feeling- no, not that either." Helga started stamping around the room, cursing.

As Arnold was about to ask her if she was alright he was interrupted by a deep voice coming from the second floor, "Helga? Are you okay down there?"

The voice stopped Helga cold. With a shocked look on her face, she darted her eyes between Arnold's equally surprised face and the hallway behind her. Calming herself slightly, she called back up in a sweet tone, "I'm alright. I'll be there shortly."

Helga slowly turned back to face Arnold. "Helga," he cocked an eyebrow at her, "who was that? What's going on?"

"Oh," she nervously giggled, "nothing. No one. Don't worry about it, Football Head." She giggled again and gave a false smile.

"Helga?"

"Well," she drew out the word with a squeak in her voice.

"Helga."

She started tapping her index fingers together as she looked away, biting her lower lip.

"Helga!"

"Well, the thing is, Arnold, I-" Why couldn't she just say it?

"You?"

The deep voice started descending the stairs, "Helga, is something going on down there?"

Shit. Now or never, "I sort of, kind of, the thing is-"

She could hear the footsteps that belonged to the man with the deep voice coming down the hall, and Arnold's face started to twist with anger for being dragged along like this. Just spit it out, Helga!

With eyes clenched closed she just blurted it out, "I already have a boyfriend!"

First opening one eye, and then slowly opening the other, Helga looked at Arnold's reaction. Shock. His mouth and eyes were equally open wide as he slumped in the chair. He looked as if he was told he only had twenty-four more hours to live. In fact, that was about how Arnold felt too.

Coming back to his senses, he sheepishly asked her, "Who?"

"Well-" she never needed to answer the question. Instead, a man walked in to the living room and wrapped an arm around Helga's waist, seemingly unaware of Arnold's presence.

Arnold's shock doubled as he realized he knew exactly who Helga's boyfriend was, "Br-Brainy?"

**A/N: OK, so what does everyone think of the pacing? Personally I feel it goes RIDICULOUSLY slow, but I really wanted Arnold's tension to come across, so I dunno. Thoughts? Anyway, the full novella will all be "song story" chapters. I'm hoping the parent songs won't be painfully obvious... *shrug* This particular part is based on Daughtry's "Life After You" (hence the title).
So what does everyone think of the love triangle I have? Gotta get some HelgaxBrainy love going on for those shippers, but do not fear HelgaxArnold fans!
So, yeah, ConCrit please - it's the only way I'll become a better author for you! ^_^ Lots of love!**