A/N: Yes, my dear faithful readers... be amazed as for this is not anime! Holy crap, right? A lot of deviants wanted this posted, so I figured... why not?

Chapter 01

Come Back to Me

Now—

"Sorry Helga, but I have to do this…"

"I wonder why Helga didn't come to practice today." Arnold mumbled aloud for no reason.
Gerald rolled his eyes. "Honestly Arnold, if you're that worried about her, go call her home!"
"I'm not worried, I'm just curious." He shifted his bat on the shoulder casually. "She never—"
A loud bang shot through their ears, causing them to look at another. "That sounded like a gun."
"What should we do? We know a lot of people that live in that—" Arnold squinted. "Is that Helga?"

They strained their eyesight to see it was her, but there was two more shots being fired while Helga tried to run away from it quickly. She was on the other side of the street from the two that were coming home from baseball practice, and watched her turn into an alleyway. Gerald jumped at the next five shots fired—wondering how long this had been going on and if there was a robber on the loose. Arnold shook him out of his thoughts to point towards Helga who was peeking through the corner of the building as if to make sure she was not followed. Her attention went towards the ground in some manner before cringing, and started running again until a police car sped by with sirens blaring. The coast was clear once more, so she tried to run farther from the scene—she failed by colliding into the ground and giving a loud painful gasp.

Arnold ran over to her with Gerald following close behind. "Helga, are you okay?" When he arrived at her side, he tried to grab her arm in order to help her up. "Come on, you shouldn't stay on the g—"
"Don't touch me!" She screamed at him in so much pain and anger that the two boys jumped in fright. "Nh!" The yelling did more damage than she could handle. "I'm fine! Just get away from me, Idiots!"
"Arnold," Gerald spoke, pointing to the sidewalk … there was a pool of blood beneath her. "Mr. Green's shop is right around this corner, I'll go call for an ambulance!" He did not like her, but she was hurt…

As he ran off to get help Helga forced herself to get up with her hand firmly holding the wound that she had. "I'm leaving, and you're not going to stop me." She took a step, and Arnold got in front of her. "You are the luckiest kid I probably know. An only child, adventurous parents, friends." Her body nearly fell over, but she took a step to prevent it. "I'm sorry that Bob had called you an orphan a few months ago. At least you have a family that cares about you, now get out of my way." When she started to walk around him, he merely got in her way. "I don't want to hurt you, Arnold."

"I don't think you could in the state that you're in." He frowned at her. "What happened to you?"

"You mean you can't hear Miriam shooting that gun off?" Helga laughed—regretting it instantly. "Last time, Arnold, move." She took another step whereas he did not budge, causing her to swat him, but nearly fell over because of it. "What's your problem, I'm trying to get away from here! Nh!"

Arnold knew that she was in pain. "You can't go anywhere like that. Let me help you!"
"So you can take me to the hospital? I don't think so!" Yelling made her double in pain.
He had to think quickly. "I'll take you wherever you want to be, just name it Helga!"
'Idiot,' she thought. "You're my friend, right?" His eyes widened. "Please… move."

"Did you just…" the football head knew that he was imagining this now. "…did you just call me…" his head shook to get out of those thoughts to look at her clearly. "Did you just call me your friend—"

She was gone.

Arnold looked everywhere to find her until he heard a car door slam shut; she just got into someone's car that did not look familiar to him. He quickly ran into the street to memorize the license plate while hearing Gerald running back over to say that they were already coming in this direction. However, the tall-haired boy looked around slowly before cautiously asking Arnold where Helga was despite having a bad feeling about it. Gerald tried to walk to his side to ask quietly about where their hotheaded friend—well, hotheaded classmate seemed more appropriate. His eyes widened in disbelief though once his football headed friend pointed forth at the runaway green car that was driving off.

"You let her go! I can't believe you!" He slapped his head. "Are you serious Arnold!"
"S-She caught me off guard…" Said male looked down at his shoes in disappointment.
"What in the world could she have said to you, to make you forget to keep her here man!"
Telling him would make no difference. "…a friend." The boy muttered, returning to the sidewalk.
"And you actually believed her!" Gerald rolled his eyes at him angrily. "She obviously set you up man!"

"Never mind that, we should tell the police! Come on Gerald!" Just before he ran ten steps, his mind began to focus, and he looked over his shoulder at the disappeared car. "Wait… that was Grandpa!"

"Alright, Little Lady, you stay safe, got it?" The old man smiled, waving. "Tell Olga I said hi, too."

"Yeah, I'll be sure to tell her." Helga smiled in return, pulling a fast one on him. "Thanks for the ride, Sir."
"Oh stop that, call me Phil!" He waved an arm at her as she got out of the car. "Want me to help you?"
"No, I'm sure I can find my way to which airplane I'm taking to Alaska. Anyway, thank you, Phil."

"See—I knew you were a sweet girl!" With that, he drove off to make sure he would not be yelled at.

'That's because I'm too weak from the gunshot and loss of blood.' Helga walked into the airport, sneaking to the luggage area where she found a bag that no one was taking. 'Finders keepers.' She tiredly thought as she inspected things in it. Some clothes that might fit, a medical kit, and some money to last her a few days. 'Jackpot.' After dressing up the wound that she was lucky enough to go straight through, after she was dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans, she had to fix up her facial appearance so no one would know her. Then it was on to the next step where she would have to wait for a poor sap at a departure door where everyone was tiredly leaving.

"Excuse me," Helga said cutely. Her hair down in waves, her unibrow painfully plucked and trimmed, and an earring on each side of her ears. She received one man's attention that was all too familiar. "Sorry, my name is Hilda, I was wondering if you were coming back from a long trip." He nodded, a little dense. "Would it be alright if I took your ticket? I collect them because it makes me feel like I've been there."

"Ah… no way, no how little girl." He brushed her off, earning an elbow from his wife.
"Don't be mean Oscar." The woman scolded before handing her own over. "Here you go."
"Thank you very much!" With that, she walked away quickly to save herself from pain.
Susie watched her limping away, thinking curiously to herself. "Wasn't that Arnold's friend?"

Either way, it was too late, Helga managed to find a promising destination; Los Angeles, California, where no one would look for her. Although the ticket was a round-trip to Chicago, Illinois, the plan was simple and easy to accomplish as she waited for the opportune moment. The passengers were going to the plane, and as the attendant was about to shut the door, she came running over and screaming for parents—crashing into the woman where the tickets flew everywhere. Helga inwardly smirked at the job well down, but had to look upset as she announced that her family just got on the plane while she was in the bathroom. It was all too easy to be allowed on the plane after she helped her collect all of the tickets while 'trying' to find hers.

Helga took a spot by the window inside the plane, grimacing at the pain in her side. 'So long Football Head…' She thought sadly. 'You too, Phoebe…' Her mind trailed off to her father and sister that were shot in front of her. 'Goodbye, everyone…' She closed her eyes, trying not to silently cry herself to sleep.

As the flight attendant talked down the usual flying routine, Helga's head dipped…

Falling asleep… losing consciousness.

Arnold waited on the steps of the boarding house for his grandfather to come back. "Grandpa, where's Helga!" He searched through the green Packard, only to see Oscar and Susie coming out of the car.

"Oh, well, she said she was going to see her sister over in Alaska. Thought I'd give her a ride to the airport since I had to go pick up these two." Phil motioned to the married couple. "Why, what's wrong?"
"Helga shot Grandpa! The cops said her mom was drunk and went crazy before…!" He bit his tongue; it was too horrifying to say aloud. "Her entire family is dead Grandpa, and Helga was badly wounded!"
"So that's why she looked so pale in the back seat." He muttered in thought before realizing everything. "Holy Guacamole! I left that poor girl at the airport and she was wounded!" Phil could not believe it.
"Olga was at the house too, so I know Helga was not going to go see her. Unless… she managed to lose her memory from the trauma…" Ugh, if only he had not been so caught up in Helga's generous words!

"So that was your friend that we met at the airport." Susie gasped, placing a hand to her mouth. "I wasn't so sure because she looked different than usual, but she had that tone of voice that made me think of that girl with the pigtails!" She went into deeper thought, remembering things. "Oh no, and she was limping too, that poor thing. Why didn't I think that it was strange—a girl collecting tickets…"

"Collecting?" Arnold asked nervously. "Why was she collecting—" He knew why; she was very clever. "Mrs. Kokoschka, where was your ticket for? Did you come from Chicago?" The boy watched her nod. "You said she looked different—what was so different about her that you almost did know it was her?"

"Well, she didn't wear anything pink. Her hair was down, and she did not have that one brow anymore. She even said that her name was Hilda, so it didn't occur to me until after she was already leaving…" She felt so bad that one of Arnold's friends managed to trick her; it was not hard to trick the people at the airport since they were very friendly there. "I should have caught on when I didn't see any parents…"

"It's okay, you didn't know that it that was her, …or about what happened here for that matter." Arnold could not blame her for not being a responsible adult. It was his own fault that she managed to slip passed him. "I'm going to go inside where the T.V. and phone is, in case someone calls about Helga."

It was unlikely that someone would be calling him about Helga, but there was a small fragment of a chance that Helga might call and ask for help. At least, watching the television for any updates about the hotheaded friend would help him figure out if she had any true leads on where she would go. It was possible that she was going to go to Alaska, it was possible that she was going to go to Illinois, no one knew though. There were only a few people that could slip inside Helga's barriers; enough to know what she wanted, or what she thought about even.

But the problem was: the only one that could probably do that now, was Phoebe.

However, he had no idea how well she was taking the news, if at all.

"Where did that girl go!" A doctor yelled at the confused nurse. "We just stitched her up—she's too weak to be running around! Get security! Find that girl! Bring her back immediately to recover!"

Helga had fallen unconscious on the trip to the city, and was taken to the emergency room that was closest to the airport that they landed at. Next thing she knew, she was in the recovery room of a hospital; making her change her plans a little because she was determined to stay away from her mother who she did not know had killed herself. When she was wide-awake, an older man was having a heart attack on the opposite side of the room, and she took her chance to grab her things and run. All gunshot wounds were reported, and so she had to leave Los Angeles, California before she could even go sightseeing. Luckily, she managed to escape the hospital before it went on lockdown, and she found herself on the dock of a ferry… so she snuck on without a second thought.

All she could here was, 'Last call for San Lorenzo.'

Minutes later, they departed to the Pacific Ocean, heading down towards Central America where she had no idea that it was going to be an adventure. It was going to be long and tiresome, but surely, she was going to be meeting some exceptionally interesting people as soon as she left the docks. Even though that was not going to happen for a few hours, Helga knew that she was going to be getting more than she ever bargained for. Nonetheless, she merely listened to others chattering merrily about the visit… and something about trying to find some Green-Eyes… who or whatever they were.

'Sounds like a disease almost…' Helga grunted in slight discomfort as she sat on the ground. 'Leaving the country is the best way to make sure that Miriam can't find me…' Her eyes began to droop, trying to find a way for her to stay awake was almost impossible. 'Still, why does Green-Eyes sound so familiar to me?'

Before another thought could pass her way, a boy with bright green eyes appeared in front of her, talking to her in another language before speaking English. It turned out that the boy was going home to San Lorenzo with his mother because there was trouble there that was harming the people. Helga felt the urge to help, but she pulled out her locket that held Arnold's picture—contemplating if she really wanted to help them or not. The boy looked and gasped before calling his mother over to look at the locket of the football headed boy; she too, gasped. Nervous about the two, she put the locket away, claiming that she had a feeling that Arnold would most likely want her to help them. As soon as she said his name, the mother nearly fainted while mentioning that this was a dream come true—that their people were to be saved. Of course, none of this made sense to Helga right now, and so the boy and his mother sat down on the deck with her with bright smiles.

For the next few hours, the mother began telling her all of the stories that she knew of.

It surprised Helga that she would be able to stay awake long enough to listen to her.

"Police are saying that down in L.A. in California, doctors say they treated a mystery girl two days ago from a gunshot wound after finding her unconscious in a plane." The reporter stated in amazement. "It is unclear, but police officers are almost positive that the girl happened to be Helga Pataki, the missing child of a horrid tradgedy a drunk mother killing the family before shooting herself—"

Arnold turned off the television, tired of hearing the same thing constantly; he wanted to know where she was at, and if she was okay. It was understandable that she would run away from home if she thought that her mother was after her. The best guess was that she did not know that her mother took her own life away after having shooting down the family members. He had no idea upon what was going through her head; he had no idea was she was trying to accomplish by putting herself in danger like this.

The chances of her knowing anyone in Los Angeles were not good—there were so many bad things that could happen to her. This was his entire fault, he should not have been so distracted when she decided to call him her friend for the first time ever. There was no way that he would be able to forgive himself if the next thing he heard on the news was Helga no longer alive. Thinking hard on everything that he could or could not have done for her was pointless, and so he went up to his room quietly.

For the first time ever, he felt like he hated himself.

As he was passing through a room, there was a knock on the front door, so he came over to see whom it was this time. To his surprise, however, Phoebe seemed to look a little more than upset about all the things that were happening so suddenly. Two days ago she lost all connections with her best friend, hearing that it was possible that she was dead somewhere out in the big world. It killed her to think like this because she would have done everything that she could in order to help her friend out of the mess.

"Hi… Phoebe…" He whispered almost uncomfortably. "Um, did you hear the news? There's a really high possibility that they found her in California." There was no remark, and he frowned. "But she ran off."
"It's not your fault." Said petite female stated quietly. "You know Helga. When she wants something, she'll do anything to get it—well, almost anything." Phoebe knew one thing that was not Helga's…
Arnold saw how upset that she was getting from this. "I'm sorry about what happened, I've been staying home to be around the phones and T.V. as if she'd find a way to contact me. But I know that's stupid…"

"No, it's not stupid at all. I appreciate your efforts." Her attention turned to the street where their friends and classmates walked around like ghosts it seemed. "It doesn't seem so lively here with Helga gone. Then again, I should have seen the trouble brewing before it happened." She sighed exhaustedly. "Her family was so complicated and stressful that it's no wonder why her mother snapped, but to…"

"What do you mean complicated and stressful?" He puzzled at this. "I thought she was just mouthing."

"No…" For a moment, she thought about telling him about Helga's family life. The chances of her ever coming home though seemed impossible. "I'm sure you could tell that her mother was an alcoholic, and her father wasn't the greatest person either." Phoebe hesitated before taking in a deep breath…

Then started to tell him everything about her family problems.

"So wait a minute, you're telling me that Arnold's parents are in trouble, and I'm some sort of Goddess sent here to help you guys help this… Green-Eyes tribe of yours?" Helga tried asking, following the boy and his mother. "Sure, I've done my share of adventures, but those were in the city, not the jungle. I wouldn't be able to keep myself alive with all the dangers that are out there—I would be killed for sure!"

"We remaining Green-Eyes will teach you to be like us. You will save the others." The mother stated with a rough Spanish accent. "You were sent to us for a reason. Come. You will start bright in the morning."

She growled unhappily at the demands that this woman was placing on her—this woman would not even listen to her when she said that she was injured. However, after hearing that Arnold's parents were in trouble as well as most of the Green-Eyes tribe, Helga felt obligate to help them in any way. Obviously, she was going to be going through Hell with the so-called training that she would have to go through to save others. Helga intended to go back to Hilwood, Washington after she was mentally and physically strong enough to get revenge on her drunken mother who killed their family.

"How long will I have to train then?" She could not believe she was doing this.
"Every day for a few years. You have five years at the most. They cannot—"
Helga snorted. "If it's going to take that long, then I'll finish in three years."
"That's the spirit!"The boy cheered merrily at her serious attitude to this.