Finally! For those of you who stuck through this story despite how long it's taken, I thank you tremendously! :D

Chapter 16 – Something's the Same

"Arnold? Arnold!"

Someone was shaking his shoulder gently. The ground seemed softer, and he became aware of a terrible pain just above his forehead. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw Gerald looking down at him, his face very worried.

"Arnold, can you hear me? Are you okay, man?" Gerald was dressed in the attire Arnold was more familiar with- the 33 jersey, jeans, and red sneakers. In fact, everyone was wearing what they had always worn in his world. This meant he was back. Back to his own world where he had grown up with these kids, where he had an identity, and where his family and neighbors knew who he was. He couldn't help but crack a smile.

Gerald's grip on Arnold's shoulder tightened. "Arnold, please say something!"

"It's so good to be back." Arnold managed to say. He was surprised to find that he had a bit of difficulty speaking at normal speech volume.

"Back? But you didn't go anywhere!" Lila exclaimed.

"Thank goodness," Phoebe replied. She was checking Arnold's pulse, and kept her usual calm, matter-of-fact composure. "His pulse is fine. But I think he should at least be walked home."

"What happened?" Arnold asked. He tried to sit up, but was pushed gently back to a lying position.

"Harold beaned you," came a voice from Arnold's left. He turned his head, a little too quickly, so that he was dizzy for a moment. He saw Helga kneeling there, looking like she had been worrying. She was now relieved and back to her old self, pink dress and everything, Arnold had noticed. "You were out for about five minutes."

"Five minutes?" Arnold asked. It had felt like days to him. Had it actually been real? Was it only a dream, a hallucination? Would anyone believe the adventure he had had?

"Yeah, we were worried you were a goner," Sid said.

"Stinky's gone to fetch your grandparents. We figured they'd know what to do." Gerald said. "Please just lay here until they come."

Arnold relaxed into the freshly-cut grass. He would lay here forever if it meant that he was back where he belonged.

"I'm so sorry Arnold!" Harold bawled, "I swear I'll never play baseball again!"

"No, Harold, it's okay," Arnold replied, "accidents happen. That doesn't mean we shouldn't stop doing the things we love, right?"

Harold nodded, and his face brightened up a bit. Arnold didn't want anyone to be unhappy. Not when he felt so happy to see all of them.

"Hey Gerald," Arnold began.

"Yeah, man?" he replied.

Arnold paused. Perhaps his story would be better told another time, when he wasn't so woozy. He wasn't sure anyone would believe him, especially in the state he was in. "Never mind."

"Whatever you say, Arnold."

"Arnold! For goodness sakes, Shortman, what kind of crazy antics did you get into this time?" Arnold's grandparents had arrived, Grandpa in mock scolding, as usual.

"It seems that Kimba is hiding in the tall weeds until he can make his move," Grandma said.

"No, Pookie, Arnold got hit on the head with a baseball!"

"Well that certainly sounds familiar."

"You should probably get him home," Gerald said, helping Arnold to his feet. He swayed a little, and Grandpa picked him up on his back. He turned and waved at everyone before Grandpa started walking and the three of them made their way towards the boardinghouse.

"Feel better, Arnold!" Phoebe and Lila said.

"I'll stop by tomorrow, man!" Gerald said.

Helga didn't say anything at first. He saw her give a small wave, with the tiniest hint of a smile, and then she said unexpectedly, "you'd better be back to normal by tomorrow, football head, or I'll pound you!" Then she turned and walked away in the direction of her house.

Arnold gave a full smile at this. Yes, things were definitely back to normal. He reached into his pocket, just to assure himself. Sure enough, he found in his pocket his wallet, some lint, and…a zebra striped pencil eraser.

.

THE END