A/N: This is my first HA! fic. It might ruin your childhood a little, MAKE SURE YOU READ THE WARNING before continuing. More chapters to come, it'll become quite steady and safe for the next couple chapters, and then start to get a little heavy again. You'll see, anyway.

Note: the reactions to the situations in this story are based on ways that actual people react in these situations, mainly stronger people like Helga. If a similar situation happens to you, you should tell someone you trust (I know everyone says that) and utilise the help available to you. Remember, school psychiatrists are bound to secrecy.

WARNING: This story contains coarse language, and deals with issues of rape and depression. If you have been raped, or are easily offended, you may not like to read on. There are no graphic details explained (no body part names are mentioned) and nothing too powerful is inside. However, it does give way and explain the events that unfold. Please be careful, I do not wish to offend anyone or receive flames because you did not heed my warning.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold! or any of it's characters, credit goes to Craig Bartlett and the Nickelodeon company.

Enjoy!

Helga screwed her eyes shut tight; trying to will away what she was now aware of happening.

No. It isn't supposed to be like this, she thought to herself as the sweaty, over-confident college student pulled himself on top of her.

She hadn't meant for it to happen. She just wanted to wash the feeling away, the feeling worth nothing. She just wanted someone to notice her for once, someone to notice her and actually like her. But she hadn't meant to go this far. She had drunk too much on purpose, and she had used her fake ID on purpose, to get into the club, and she had intended to meet a college student, but she really hadn't wanted to go so far.

She had fallen apart when he started kissing her. He was such a charmer, the college boy. They had spoken all night. He had laughed at her jokes, put his arm around her a lot and kissed her cheeks a thousand times. And it had felt really nice. So nice, that when she had to run from the club (because she was so obviously not 21, how do 15 year olds pass for that age? Stupid bouncers, that's how. Okay, she had flirted, but it was harmless) that when he suggested they go back to his place she agreed. Her drunken mind was foolish, and when he kissed her she had kissed him back. She had let him push her onto the bed and caress her not-fully developed breasts because he had made her feel so good.

"So, how old are you?" he had asked her, and she told him the truth, only fifteen years old. He had just laughed as he ripped her dress off over her head. As the dress pulled over her head, taking a bundle of hair with her, she had become aware of the situation. He was going to have sex with her.

But she was too drunk to do anything. And now she lay there, naked, un-prepared, terrified of this man that was on top of her, about to take from her something she knew she could never get back.

Something she had always dreamed would go to Arnold. Why didn't this man care that she was still a minor? Didn't he know she was a virgin? She opened her eyes and could tell from the smile, the devilish, evil smile that he had guessed. And he loved it.

"…stop," she croaked out, pushing her eyes shut tight again. She knew he wouldn't stop, and in her asking she felt the last of her pride slip through her hands. She had begged for mercy from him, even when she knew he wouldn't give any.

In a vain attempt to calm herself, she thought of Arnold. She tried to pretend it was him on top of her, not this college boy, but as the college boy (was Ryan his name?) slid into her knew she was fooling nobody. With Arnold it wouldn't be like this, with Arnold, it wouldn't feel like being torn apart. She cried out softly in pain, trying hard to focus on Arnold, and yet she found thinking of him was making her feel worse. Thinking about how he would feel if he found out… not that he'd probably care, was killing her.

Weakly, Helga opened her eyes to the man that was above her, carelessly and angrily thrusting into her limp body. His face looked twisted and cruel; his mouth a thin line as though having sex with her was a task. Helga wasn't aware of her tears until they were streaming down her face, and, as he noticed them when she did, his mouth turned into a smile. His rough angry hands squeezed her hard, making her cry out in more pain, and his free hand shot to her mouth, covering it.

"Shut the fuck up," he growled, and Helga did as she was told.

She felt sick, like vomiting, but she didn't think that would help the matter. Nothing was going to stop this man. She just had to hold her guts, bite back the pain and wait until it was over.

Then, no matter how drunkenly, she would get the hell out of there. She didn't know if she would be able to walk, let alone run, but running is what she wanted to do. She tried to distract herself by thinking about who lived nearby, but her brain moved so slowly it was painful, until, with a pang, she realised she had no idea where she was.

This night couldn't get any worse.

Arnold tapped his pen lightly but rapidly on the desk in his room, staring at the raindrops that were pounding the ceiling. Downstairs there was a ruckus, something Oskar did to Mr Wenn- he didn't know, but they were being very distracting from his homework.

Sighing, Arnold tossed down the pen and leaned back in his chair, staring idly at all the mementos he had gathered over the years of his life in the city. Movie stubs, books he had loved so much he had to buy, millions of maps of jungles, and other various things. He pulled himself out of his chair and crossed to the mirror, running his hand through his hair as he did so. A lot had changed. He had grown- a lot, actually, he managed to fit now into the flannel shirt he had always worn as a child. Well, it still hung a little loose- but Grandpa told him he was still growing, and by the time he was finished it would fit him just as perfectly as it had once fit his father.

But he wasn't the only one who had changed. The girls, especially, had all changed, and not just physically. They had all deemed themselves too important to play on Gerald field anymore, and instead spent time on their appearances and talked about girl stuff. Even Helga spent more time on her appearance, but she still made time to play baseball, at least.

Helga- now there was a change. She looked a completely different person, really. She never wore her hair in pigtails anymore, but instead varied from plaits to ponytails, and, occasionally on the days she looked rushed, wore it out. Her mono brow was long gone and forgotten, and occasionally she was even seen with painted nails. Her personality had changed, too. The sessions with her psychiatrist had done her a world of good, she has slowly let the angry, fake Helga subside and let the kinder, softer and caring Helga show. And Arnold liked it. Really liked it, actually, he wouldn't say he liked her liked her, but he liked her as a friend, a lot. They even hung out together, just the two of them sometimes, which Arnold liked especially, as she always seemed in a brighter mood the smaller the crowd was, even if she did act shyer at times.

Without even really thinking about doing it, he pulled out his mobile phone and started texting her. The two of them were the laugh of the school with their phones- Helga's was an old hand-down brick from Olga, and Arnolds was a brick because it's all they could afford. Everyone else had fancy styled phones, but Arnold didn't mind. The brick worked just fine.

He texted her offering a visit, maybe they could do homework together if she could find a way to his house without getting drenched, and shoved his phone back in his pocket. He threw himself down on his bed and daydreamed- something he was still increasingly good at, until his phone finally vibrated in his pocket. He had almost forgotten he'd even sent a text.

'Hey Arnold, yeah, I'd like to come over, I'm getting nothing done here what with Miriam and Bob being noisy and drunk. But, I don't know that I should. I know you've noticed I've been a little sad lately, and I'm feeling it today. Sure you want to deal with that?'

Arnold stared at the ceiling for a moment and pondered. Helga had seemed down lately, but no one knew why. Whatever it was, it was bottled inside like with all her problems, and she did a good job of hiding it. Arnold texted back telling her to come over anyway. Maybe he could cheer her up, or even help her get through her problem. He made his way downstairs to greet her at the door, trying to blackout the sound of the yelling in the background. When she finally arrived he led her upstairs and shut the door behind them.

"Sorry about my family. They get that way a lot," Arnold apologised, handing her a towel to dry the jeans she had gotten wet on the walk over.

"Thanks, and don't worry about it. They're great," she smiled, a fake smile, and Arnold offered one back, offering her a seat on the couch.

"So, Helga," he started as she sat down, towelling the moisture from her hair, "I was wondering, you mentioned you were upset in your text. And I wondered, what's wrong?" he asked, his green eyes glancing into her blue ones. Helga gulped and tugged at her shirt as though she suddenly thought it was too tight.

"What? Nothing Arnold, nothing at all, heh heh," she stammered, and Arnold raised an eyebrow. He knew her well enough now to know what would get her talking.

"Helga…" he said slowly and forcefully, knowing it was all he would have to say, and sure enough she looked at him before sighing.

"Things… just haven't been so great for me lately," she said, her eyes glued now on anything that wasn't him.

"Why? What happened?" Arnold asked sensitively, frowning to himself. Were those tears in her eyes?

"Nothing, Arnold, nothing,"

"Helga…"

"Well, okay, maybe something happened, okay? Something big. But I can't tell you about it,"

"Well, why not?" Arnold asked, considering placing a comforting hand on her shoulder but deciding against it.

"I just… I just can't, okay?" she said, her gaze finally meeting his, and Arnold saw that the tears were definitely there. They hadn't fallen to her cheeks yet, but he knew not to press the matter further. He wished he could hug her, though. He hated to see her sad, he hated to see anyone sad, but with Helga... she just looked so broken and beyond repair. But he knew she would talk when she was ready. Well, he would have to make her talk, but she would do it when she wanted too. He just hoped it didn't get worse.

"Okay Helga. Want to do some work?" he asked, trying to sound cheery, and Helga nodded, reaching into her backpack and pulling out her books.

"Sure thing, football head," she smiled, before the two of them set to work. They worked for over an hour before Arnold's phone rang in his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Arnold! It's me, Gerald!"

"Oh. Hey Gerald," Arnold answered, smiling at Helga and pulling himself off the couch. Helga smiled back and continued scribbling in her books.

"So listen Arnold, I know you're probably busy being a nerd and all, but I wondered if you wanted to come over and watch scary movies instead of doing your homework?" Gerald asked, and Arnold pondered.

"Uh… yeah, I guess I could do that. I'll be over in a while, okay?" he agreed before hanging up. Helga looked at him questioningly, and Arnold smiled at her.

"That was Gerald, he wants me to go over to his house for a while. Want me to walk you home?" Arnold asked Helga politely, who shook her head.

"It's in an opposite direction, Arnold," she said, packing up her books and snatching up her umbrella. "And it's not far. I'll be fine on my own. Thanks, though," she smiled warmly and Arnold led her outside.

"You sure you'll be okay to walk home on your own?" he asked again on the doorstep as the two of them opened their umbrellas to the settling rain.

"Sure will be, football head," the smile she gave him was fake, he could tell, and he could tell that she wasn't at all happy, but what could he do? She gave him a wave and began walking home. It took Arnold half a walk to Gerald's house before he realised he definitely should have walked Helga home. She might be a strong person, but she was upset, and he should have made sure she got home safely and happily. He decided to text her later to make sure everything was okay, trying desperately to push the worried thoughts out of his mind.

A/N: Hey guys, hope you liked it. I also hope I didn't ruin too many childhoods. It gets brighter from here on in, but there are still refences/flashback scenes throughout the chapters to come that might also cause offense. Nothing as bad as that until much closer to the end, though, and as I haven't written it yet, I don't know how bad that will be.

I've already written the next two chapters, I would just like some input from you guys before I post them. Did I ramble too much in the Arnold scene? The rest of the scenes are much more like that, and I worry they're too long. I can cut them shorter ANYTIME. Let me know! ;D