Happy New Year, folks! I present to you the final chapter. While I'm sad that I've finally reached the conclusion of a story I loved writing, I'm glad I was able to give it an ending now instead of producing one 3 months later after my busy season is over. I'm so grateful for all the positive reviews and follows this story has received and, as a result, I will be continuing on along the same story line in a new fic called 'Fault Lines'. This new story will take place during Arnold and Helga's senior year and cover some of the more difficult decisions they'll face as graduation and heading out into the 'real world' looms near. Again, thank you all for the feedback and enjoy the ending to "Begin Again"!

Note: I do not own Hey Arnold or any of the music/movies/TV shows/etc. that I have referenced below and in the rest of this tale that I have spun. Song lyrics are "Sweet Child O'Mine" by GNR.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!

I wearily lifted one eyelid as the bedside alarm blared its overly annoying tune. Are you kidding me? It's Sunday. Why the hell is this thing even on? I sighed heavily as I closed my eye and buried my face back into the pillow. I aimlessly shifted and draped an arm around the body next to me. Or, at least, where one was supposed to be. I opened my eyes once again to find I was alone. Figures.

I unceremoniously unwound myself from the cocoon of sheets and slapped the alarm off as I virtually rolled out of bed. I stretched and quickly scanned around for something to wrap my naked torso in. I found my wadded up panties half way across the room and, nearby, a white men's dress shirt. As I slipped back into my underwear and loosely buttoned the shirt, I also grabbed the running shorts sticking out of my gym bag. Last thing anyone wants to see at breakfast is my bare ass.

After squeezing into my shorts, I slicked a brush through my mane once or twice before sneaking out the door. I silently padded through the hall and down the stairs, careful not to disturb the surrounding rooms. While making my way to the dining room, I detected the tantalizing smell of bacon and pancakes wafting through the air. At the same time, my ears picked up the faintest hint of a guitar being played. It took me a second to recognize the song, but when I did, I couldn't help but smile. My favorite. As I approached the doorway, I stopped just inside, leaning against the frame to take in the scene currently unfolding.

Standing at the stove in a pair of blue PJ pants and a white tank was the most compassionate man I had ever known. I watched as he casually flipped another pancake out of the skillet, softly singing along to the mp3 player hooked into the tabletop speakers.

She's got eyes of the bluest skies

As if they thought of rain

I hate to look into those eyes

And see an ounce of pain

Her hair reminds me

Of a warm safe place

Where as a child I'd hide

And pray for the thunder

And the rain

To quietly pass me by

Sweet child o'mine

Sweet love of mine

"I see you've stolen my iPod again."

Arnold glanced up from what he was doing and smirked. "And I see you've stolen my shirt."

"Not really stealing. More like permanently borrowing."

He chuckled and shut off the burner as I crossed the threshold into the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"I wish."

"Sorry. Forgot. Anything you want instead?"

I snaked my arms around his waist from behind. "Mmm...How about 'you'?" He turned and pierced me with his emerald gaze.

"I think I can do that." He lightly gripped my hips as he pulled me into him, bending down to kiss me long and hard. That all-too-familiar tingle ricocheted throughout my body.

THUMP!

Our lips broke contact and we peered up at the ceiling.

I sighed. "Should have known that was coming."

He grinned. "I got it." He made a motion to leave but whirled back around, planting another peck on my lips before letting go. "We'll continue this later." I watched as the man of my dreams made his way across the room and climbed the stairs.

It's hard to believe that ten years have flown by so fast. It seemed like just yesterday Arnold and I were only teenagers, two kids who knew nothing but what they felt for each other. It never was and never will be an easy road for us. Like any other couple, we've had our share of endless arguments and the bitter, angry tears that follow. Yet, in the end, we always come back together.

That was never more evident than during our senior year of college. We spent most of that time getting into one fight after another, mainly about the status of our relationship. Nevertheless, following graduation, we made the commitment to spend the summer together backpacking through San Lorenzo.

It was trip of a lifetime. Everything about the area was more beautiful than I ever could have imagined. However, the memories I carry of that trip aren't about what we saw but rather what we experienced. Hiking in the overwhelming heat of the dense jungle. Bathing in the chilly crystalline waterfalls. Visiting the locations where his parents had spent the most important years of their lives.

I can still distinctively recall the day Eduardo took us to the temple where Arnold was born. The temperature had to have been well into the 100s and it was muggy as hell. We'd spent that morning taking inventory of everything the research group needed for the following weeks as a caravan was scheduled to head into town the following morning. In exchange for our help, Eduardo had agreed to guide us along on a new route we hadn't yet explored during that afternoon. When I first laid eyes on the crumbling structure, I didn't have a clue of its significance. But Arnold did. Instantly, a mixture of sadness and sereneness had etched itself across his face and his hand had gripped mine a bit tighter. That was the moment of clarity he needed and, from there, everything seemed to finally fall into place. The next day, we traveled to the nearest city and filed for the license. Two weeks later, we wed on the same plateau where Arnold's parents had had their own ceremony.

The fact that we'd abruptly made the decision to get married didn't come as a shock to anyone. I think Sam's reaction pretty much summed everyone's thoughts on the matter. If I recall correctly, it went something like "Hot damn! I won the bet! Have you told Johanssen yet? He's gonna be pissed when he finds out he owes me 50 bucks. I told him you two wouldn't wait 'til you were back in the States!".

When we arrived back in the U.S., I immediately moved into the boarding house, much to Phil's satisfaction. I had spent enough summer weekends and holidays there that we had built up a close relationship. He would often tell me how much I reminded him of his Pookie and, in turn, I came to cherish and respect him as the fatherly figure I never truly had. So it hit both Arnold and I extremely hard when, a year later, Phil passed on. The weeks following were miserable, filled with a multitude of appointments and mounds of paperwork. But the one decision that mattered most to us was promptly settled in minutes. We mutually agreed to keep the Sunset Arms up and running. At the time, money wasn't even a factor we considered, however, the extra income the boarding house provided later turned out to be a huge help given that Arnold was the only one working while I completed my Masters. Times were tough then as we barely scraped by financially. Fortunately, though, my hard work paid off. Soon after finishing my degree, I was hired on as a behavioral counselor at a local troubled youth center. When I first started, I didn't think it was actually possible to honestly enjoy your career but I was quickly proven wrong. Even now, it's still incredibly rewarding helping kids that are in the situation I had once been with a neglectful family and an arsenal of anger issues. I guess it goes to show that, somewhere along the line, a piece of Arnold's essence really had become entwined with mine. And in more ways than one.

"Say 'Hi Mommy'."

"Mama!"

"Come here you." I placed one knee to the floor as Arnold picked the golden-haired angel up off his shoulders and set him delicately on the ground. Immediately, the tiny cherub ran into my arms, hugging me tight. Phillip Miles Shortman was the spitting image of his father, from the tips of his toes all the way up to the worn little blue hat perched on his head. I held him close, breathing in the light scent of baby powder on his skin. How could I have ever been terrified of you, my beautiful boy?

I had had a massive meltdown when I first found out I was unexpectedly pregnant. As far as I was concerned, dealing with someone else's offspring was one thing but a brood of my own was completely out of the question. I had convinced myself long ago that I was forever doomed to repeat the same mistakes my own parents had made and had vowed never to subject another human being to that, resulting in my swearing off children all together. The reality of what was then my worst nightmare coming to fruition left me in shambles. Arnold, on the other hand, having always wanted kids, took the news in stride. He not only successfully handled my hysterics but, as the months progressed, he managed to quell a majority of my fears. To this day, I still have no idea how he did it. What I do know, though, is that I don't think I've ever seen Arnold happier than the day Phillip was born. And truth was, the same could be said for myself. The minute I laid eyes on the little squirt, I was a goner, instantly infatuated with him. Within weeks of bringing Phillip home, we immediately began planning for the next one. And, right on cue, 18 months later, Baby #2 was now set to make his or her debut this upcoming fall.

"Cookie?"

I looked down into a tiny pair of wondrous jellybean green eyes. "Not yet. Let's get you some breakfast first, kiddo." I picked the tyke up and plunked him into his highchair.

As I prepped a sippy cup of milk and a bowl of Cheerios with sliced bananas, I lapsed back into my thoughts. Is this really how you always pictured life, Helga, old girl? I dwelled on this question for a moment until the sound of laughter brought me back to Earth. I turned to gaze at the two people around which my world revolved. Arnold was sitting at the kitchen table, gently boop-ing Phillip on the nose, much to both of their delight. I beamed. How did I get so lucky? As I stood there, Arnold glanced over at me.

"You gonna join us or what?"

"Yeah yeah. Keep your shirt on, Football Head. I'm coming." I placed the bowl, cup, and a spoon onto the highchair tray.

"Foo-ball!" We stopped and stared at the giggling toddler before us.

"That's a new one."

"Guess he does take after you more than we thought."

I cringed. "If that's the case, I can't wait to see what happens when he turns three."

Arnold's mouth curled into a devious smile. "You never know. Maybe he'll find his own little girl in a pink bow to adore and yet mercilessly pick on by then."

At that, I softly slid into his lap, throwing my arms around his neck. In turn, Arnold wrapped me in his, one hand tenderly resting on my growing belly. "Can you possibly get any cheesier?"

"I can try."

I feigned a sigh of irritation. "Tell me why I put up with you again?"

His signature half-lidded gaze met mine. "Because you love me. And I love you."

My heart swelled just as it always did whenever he ushered those words. "Good answer, Football Head."

"Foo-ball!" We let the sound of our son clapping and shrieking in pure joy wash over us as our lips affectionately reconnected.

Is this the life I always pictured for myself? Not quite. But I wouldn't have it any other way.