A/N: Well, here I am again coming out at the most random and delayed of times with a chapter. Life has just been so... life-y, including where I live being hit with a natural disaster, and to say it was bad is an understatement. It's going to be a long time until things get back to normal around here. I'm trying to use that energy and anxiety and put it into creativity and finish this thing. I never really lost interest and think about it and the characters often, but again. Life be life-y!
I think this is the longest chapter yet and I had a lot of fun writing it. Man, I really am torturing poor Frogg in this fic and I'M SORRY. I'm just such a sucker for the ANGST hahaa Because these updates are so spread out, I understand if I lost the interest of my few readers, but I'm hoping with maybe a kind review or two, it will help motivate me! In other news, since my last visit to AO3, there's actually been a handful of fics added to this (dead) fandom! I haven't gotten around to reading many of them but that's super cool! Drop a review and let me know what ya think! :)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
...with Gasoline
Frogg followed the beam of the flashlight with his eyes, his pupil a black prick in pale blue. The doctor switched the light to his other side and repeated. Before this test, Frogg's weight was taken, and a cuff was put around his thin arm to check his blood pressure. Hans and Gisela were watching silently yet intently, and Frogg was embarrassed to have them present. He felt his face redden when the doctor used a finger to tilt his chin, examining the incisions left from surgery. It was a clean heal, thankfully, but nevertheless a far too prominent scar of his now.
"Children your age usually have no issue being told to rest," the doctor began, the displeasure in his tone clear, "Any excuse to stay home from school, watch cartoons all day… and yet here we are. It seems like you did all the things youweren'tsupposed to do. And now you're sick."
Frogg cast his gaze down. He hated the hospital, and for good reason. He said it simply, as if it was the most valid explanation in the world, and his voice was nasally, "I got rained on."
"Well, your fever is gone so that's good. What you're left with is a simple cold." Frogg heard his guardians breathe a sigh of relief, but it was only short-lived when the man continued in even more clear disdain, "But one cannot tell how long that may last considering what Archibald has done to himself. This attempt at at-home surgery was stupid, ill-conceived, and extremely dangerous. It could be just days until his body potentially rejects whatever the boy has put into himself. Now there's this cold, and his weight is even lower than it wasbeforehe left the hospital. You all are going to need to keep a very close eye on this."
This doctor not only thought that Archibald was stupid, but his Guardians as well when the man first saw Archibald's cybernetics. Then upon hearing Frogg's small, meek explanation of how they worked, the doctor's eyes bugged and he declared they were to be surgically removed at once – there werepermanentfixtures in those things?
If Frogg were not so exhausted, he would have been proud of the Professor and Gisela when they countered – "No, you don't understand, it's not a toy or pretend. Archibald is a prodigy, he is an engineer," despite their extreme concern for Archibald, that it wasn't so simple. The entire time Frogg sat dead still, eyelids heavy and weary. The voices of the adults exhausted him, and the fluorescent lights were bright, so his head began to hurt, and Frogg began to massage his temples with a groan.
Moments later he realized the room was silent, and he opened his eyes to see all the adults staring. The doctor appeared shocked.
There, his cybernetics were working just as they were supposed to - the noise produced by the devices was minimal, just a faint hum as the finger-like claws barely spun on their spherical axis, the joints smoothly opening and closing, using the flats of the copper claws to apply pressure to his temples. Open-mouthed, the doctor looked from Archibald to his guardians, and they looked back as if to say'see?'. Several minutes and several unwanted prods and pokes later, Frogg was sent into the hallway so the adults could privately talk, and he could just catch what the doctor said next: "Physically, he's fine for now, but I cannot stress enough how careful you must be about keeping those things in his skin clean and sanitary. Now, it's not my area of expertise but there's something else that I cannot emphasize enough for that boy:therapy."
It was a quiet car ride back from the hospital. It wasn't until they pulled into the tiny driveway of their home that Hans finally asked it.
"Why? Why would you do something so drastic to yourself, Archibald?"
Because I have work to do.
That was what Frogg thought to himself and wanted to say, but instead just leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes.
"I wanted to fix it."
There was only so long until his Guardians had to accept the root of Frogg's desperate attempt at recovery, however. Just like when they were finishing their last lessons together, Hans Reinhart walked his previous student to Humboldt University just three days later. Though feeling quite infantilized and embarrassed, Frogg was secretly thankful for it – his stomach was all nerves and anxious knots. Even if it was a silent, awkward commute, the company may have helped.
"I'll be in the library grading when you're done," the professor gently said when they arrived. "Come find me. Be careful, okay? No over exertion, take care of yourself."
He was eyeing the metallic ends of Frogg's wrists as he said these things. He could not hide how unsettled he was with them, and it just made the boy even more nervous – he'd never get used to the stares, the repulsion, the looks of others trying and failing to understand. The claws wrung around the strap of Frogg's backpack as he anxiously worked them, just like he used to when he was smaller.
Frogg's return to the lab was unexpected. Like a vampire waiting for an invitation inside, it was as though he was stuck in the door frame, unable to proceed.
His three colleagues were working and idly chatting, Emma reorganizing things to clear a space on one side of the lab, and Ishaan and Flynn were bent over a computer. Frogg realized that the cassette they were playing in the background was the one he always picked when it was his turn to decide on music -Teenage Riotby Sonic Youth was softly playing. Was it because they were thinking of him? It was just like any other day, and for a moment something comforting washed over Frogg from the familiarity of it. He missed it – he missedthem– much more than he realized.
That was when Ishaan's attention flicked away from his computer screen, and he saw the boy standing in the doorway. His eyes widened as if he caught sight of a ghost.
"Frogg?!"
Frogg immediately ducked his face down – a reflex he was on his way to learning to hide his scar, and by the humiliation of being caught staring. He marched to where the lab coats hung, trying his best to sound nonchalant – "oh, hi guys" – but it was already clear there would be nothing normal about this day. He was immediately surrounded.
"Frogg, what are you doing here?"
"I don't think this is a good idea-"
"Does Doktor Fischer know you're back?"
And through the onslaught of it all, the bombardment of questions abruptly stopped when they saw his cybernetics now poking through the sleeves of the lab coat. It was the same look given to him by the doctor and his guardians, one that felt like the little scientist was put right under a microscope, unnatural beneath its lens.
"I just..." Frogg swallowed, his voice was thin and close to shaking, "I just want things to go back to normal."
He was utterly pitiful. The three graduated students who he had spent the past year with, and who had gotten so used to his presence in the lab, seemed to be hit with the truth that Frogg truly was just a child. They didn't understand the drastic mechanics that he had put on himself – they just knew there was somethingwrongabout it.
"...Please can I just work on our laser?"
Ishaan, Emma and Flynn were openly gaping, but it was Flynn who found his wits first and softly offered with a polite smile, "Yeah. Yeah, I think that's fine… welcome back..."
Frogg tried to act surprised by their progress despite seeing it just nights ago. But now it was daytime and he had good light, and his colleagues informed him of all the progress they had made. When they stuttered about a 'delay' close to two months ago, there was a beat of quiet discomfort, and the boy made the unsettling connection. Delays because of his accident, of his blood and tattered flesh contaminating the whole lab… before the panic could set in, Frogg gave himself a good shake and said much too earnestly to compensate, "I'm ready! Just like we used to, right?"
But it wasn't just how it used to be.
The silence stretched and was uncomfortable, only broken by the occasional sniffles of his residual cold. When they spoke, it was stiff and strictly work-related. Even when Frogg quickly solved an issue of overheating the others had experienced for weeks (in only the first thirty minutes of being there, nonetheless!), he thought that his small breakthrough would help. But no matter how discreet their attempts were, there were eyes on him the whole time - at his scarred chin and the claws at the ends of his wrists. When at one point he asked Emma to pass a tool that was just out of reach, her fingers grazed the metal of a claw, and before she had time to realize and fix her expression, he could see the clear discomfort flicker across her face, something akin to disgust.
At this, Frogg was sure he was going to begin crying now. He had been doing good, and especially didn't want to do so in front of these people. So instead, he just forced himself to focus and repeated it like a mantra in his thoughts: this is for my Master's. This is for my Doctorate, and he could be miserable in his own time but NOT here. The last time he allowed himself to get too lost within his own head in this very lab, it was followed by a horrible accident that left him a double amputee. He could not risk it again.
But he would soon find out that no matter how focused he was on the work, accidents could still happen. Satisfied with their assessment for the day, the others began to move the laser on its wheels to the other side of the room, and Frogg trailed with bundles of wires. Wires that were still plugged in, one of which had become just theslightestbit compromised and needed the right conductor at the exact right spot-
There was an audible zap, something akin to involuntary giggling coming from Frogg as electricity rushed through his metal claws and into his body, then a final pop and shower of sparks as the boy went flying.
"Frogg! Frogg, are you with us?"
"Oh shit, is heokay?"
When he came to, someone was palming his cheek, lightly slapping him, and it took him several disoriented seconds to realize it was Ishaan. Somewhere, Emma was frantically asking if she should call an ambulance. Woozy, Frogg tried to dismissively wave a hand -no, aclaw- to indicate he was just fine, even if he didn't feel like it, and he raised himself into sitting up.
"Ugh.. no, no ambulance…"
"Frogg, you just took the voltage of three car batteries, I think you need to see a doctor!"
"N-no, I think I'm okay," Frogg was now shakily pulling himself to his feet despite the protests of his colleagues, and he swayed a bit in place. He became aware that from where the laser's shiny metallic surface reflected his image, his hair had gone almost comically wild from the shock he suffered, standing straight up. Frogg would be completely okay with never going through that experience again… never did he think, however, that with a great set of conductors for hands, his chronic case of bad luck and a future of risky scientific methods, that would be far from the case.
On his way out of the lab, after smoothing down his hair as best he could in the bathroom, Frogg was unprepared to find his Principal Investigator waiting for him.
Doktor Fischer had always intimidated Frogg. She was so incredibly smart and composed, and her direct, no-nonsense way of communication was something Archibald admired. She was coming down the hall, obviously intending to intercept him, and she called his name out. Frogg's face reddened under the woman's scrutinizing gaze when she saw her youngest graduate student for the first time since his accident. Unlike his lab colleagues, she was much better at hiding her shock.
"How are you feeling, Archibald?"
"I'm good, thanks…"
Maybe she could not detect the rasp of his voice, how his throat felt a littlefriedafter being electrocuted.
"Did you make those?"
Frogg timidly clasped his claws together. "Yeah…"
"Did you make them here at the University?"
The twelve-year-old shuffled. He knew that when he used the University's metal working shop that one night, what he did was theft. Students were supposed to provide their own materials, and the shine of his cybernetics seemed glaringly obvious at that moment. But she didn'thaveto know. Frogg just solemnly nodded, offering no other details.
"I see. Interesting design, you'll have to tell me how they work sometime. For now, it's good to have you back. Are you able to resume work on the laser?"
This was what Frogg had been waiting for – just some sort of validation, something that could bring any sense of normalcy, and he was embarrassed by how quickly and energetically he responded, "Yes! Yes, I can, I even solved the overheating problem today!"
Doktor Fischer just gave him a professional smile back. "Very good to hear. I'll be checking in soon. Have a good night, Frogg."
It became clear, however, that normalcy would not be in Frogg's immediate future.
The week passed, and Frogg tried his hardest to partake in the construction of the laser, but there were more accidents. As they rehearsed disassembling and reassembling the main components for practice, Frogg oversaw reading the blueprints and instructions out. It was an utter mess of confusion, the others were getting frustrated and snippy with each other, until Emma finally pointed out the glaring problem – Frogg was looking at the printupside down. He was mortified. Or worse, when they were testing the laser for the first time – shrinking the size of an apple – and during the countdown Frogg tripped and pushed the entire machine several inches off course. Thankfully, Flynn saved the day by leaping over and smashing the emergency stop button just in time. Frogg could not stop babbling apologies, aware that he could have caused a serious accident or worse, but everyone was unusually silent for the rest of the day.
Then came the day when their PI was in the lab, chatting about how she wanted the direction of their paper to go. Frogg was listening intently to her words, reaching behind him for a screwdriver, but the tip of his claw found an empty outlet instead. It was nowhere near as intense as the first time and he did not lose consciousness, but once again there was a theatrical yelp andzap!and his jaws clamped down hard onto his tongue so that blood began to fill his mouth. The force of the shock jettisoned him out into the floor… right at the feet of Doktor Fischer.
"Oh my God!" she immediately dropped and began to examine the dazed, yet mortified, boy. "Are you alright? Were you just shocked?"
"That's the second time this week," Emma offered, and upon seeing the blood behind his teeth, went to the hand-washing sink and retrieved paper towels.
Frogg was growing all sorts of shades of scarlet, humiliated for his Principal Investigator to see him make such a scene, and he mumbled into the paper towels, "Ith's okay, I'm alright… thorry…"
"Excuse me Emma did you say thesecondtime? Was an incident report filled out?"
"No… there was also an accident with the first test. Flynn had to hit the emergency stop."
Frogg could not believe this. He tried to communicate with his eyes to Emma what he wanted to say so badly,stop, you're making me look bad!, but it was as if they were talking about him as if he was not right there.
"Exactly how many accidents have there been since Archibald has been back on the team?"
"Three… or four, if you consider the ones that could not have hurt someone…"
"That's not true! It's not my fault!"
When the words left his mouth Frogg realized just how whiney and childish he sounded. He had always been treated by the adults as if he was just as competent, but he very much felt like that was not the case now.
Doktor Fischer just thoughtfully nodded to herself, Frogg hating how long she seemed to think about it. When she finally decided on her words, "Why don't you start your weekend early, Archibald? We'll get everything cleaned up here. After a shock like that, you should get some rest", Frogg felt the part of rejected, kicked puppy as got his things together, far too aware of the stares at his back as he slunk out.
When his Principal Investigator called over the weekend to schedule a meeting early that Monday morning, a pit of dread made itself known in Frogg's stomach. Since becoming one of her graduate students, of course Frogg had quite a handful of one-on-one meetings with Doktor Fischer. This, however, did not feel right, especially when she requested that a guardian be present.
On Monday at 8:00AM, the sounds of early campus life beyond the window, Archibald, The Professor and Doktor Fischer all met in her office. He was thankful that their Hello's and pleasantries were not drawn out, and Doktor Fischer was her usual self and went straight into why she brought them together at such an early hour.
"I called you in to discuss your future in the lab. I did not have to pull too many strings because you are in such good standing with the University," Doktor Fisher began and she pushed a large envelope towards him on the desk, "But I have something that I think you'd like very much."
She was smiling, and Frogg was genuinely confused. He fumbled with the seal. It took far too long, he was still learning how to perfect using his claws, and the discomfort of the room was drawn out by their soft mechanical whirs. After agonizing seconds, he finally pulled the contents from the package and stared at it for a very long while. He did not understand.
"I.. I don't.."
"Congratulations. I know it would have been more satisfying to receive this in the semester's Hooding Ceremony, but you've earned it nonetheless."
It was a diploma resting in the grasp of his claws. He felt his Professor clap his shoulder in a congratulatory way, who was grinning, but only confusion was written on Frogg's face. This made absolutely no sense. This was… he was being awarded his Master's? The very thing he wanted so badly but.. early, somehow?
"But I- but the work isn't done yet, how can I…?"
His dissertation on the laser wasn't finished, he would not even begin to start writing until several tests were complete. It didn't make sense.
"I know. But you've already worked so hard, and you deserve it after what has happened to you. Your contribution to the work is enough, it's alright."
But… no. That was not how it worked. Frogg, horrified, then fully realized what she meant. He was receiving this out of pity. It wasn't the real thing. It was just like the 'honorary' degrees that were given out to people who did not qualify or perform any of the hard work necessary for such a title… This was not what he wanted. He did not want this because he was somevictim, he wanted it because heearnedit.
"No thank you."
"I'm sorry, did you say, 'no thanks'?"
"I don't deserve it. I want to finish the project. I want to do it just like everyone else has to."
"Archibald," his Guardian started with a sigh, "There's nothing wrong with this."
"But I want to work for it, I want toearnit! I can still finish the laser!"
Then it was Doktor Fischer's turn to speak.
"Unfortunately, you can't do that. It's been decided that you're off the project."
That could not be right, he must have heard wrong.
"...what?"
"The number of incidents that have taken place since you returned is too alarming. It isn't safe for you or the others to be here anymore. It's not your fault if there are side effects from your accident, but it would be incredibly irresponsible to ignore it."
Oh. Hehadheard right. The words sunk into his stomach like the project?No. No, that couldn't be, she couldn't do this to him, that was his machine too!
"But- but I helped make it! I- I didn't even- It's practicallydone, I'll be even more careful-"
"No, this is out of your control now. You're too much of a liability. I'm sorry, I really am."
When Frogg stormed from the front doors of The Science Department out into the lawn of the Free University, he was fighting the sensation of his lungs wanting to suffocate on themselves. He could not have one of his anxiety attacks now, not here. Professor Reinhart caught up to the twelve-year-old who was on the verge of hyperventilation, one hand holding the diploma, and the other went to rest on the boy's shoulder. Frogg shook it off.
"It isn't fair!" Frogg cried. "This isn't fair, how can she do this?"
"Why didn't you tell me about getting shocked?" the professor softly questioned. "You're still weak from your accident, this is something I should have known."
Frogg could not for the life of him understand why that was even relevant. There were more important things to care about! Who cared about a measly shock or two when his own creation was being taken away from him, all that hard work and dedication...
"It doesn't matter! That's my project too! If I wasn't there to help, it wouldn't even exist! They need me!"
"You've got your Master's, that's what matters. This is such a ridiculously great accomplishment for someone of your age! We should be celebrating! I'm proud, you should be proud-"
"I don't just want a piece of paper, I want to earn it! I wanted to be good at something, I-"
"Archibald, stop this now. You should be happy, you're lucky."
Again there was that .The same word his doctor at the hospital would use to describe what had happened to him the day he had his hands taken away. The word the nurses would croon at him, how he was such a luckyboy. How could his Professor not see how this was anything but that? It was vexing, it was total frustration to the point where he could have ripped his own hair out - instead Frogg just continued to gasp to try to even his breathing, and he did not realize it, but he had begun pacing and muttering to himself how it just wasn't fair, and this was how the Professor watched him with a strange expression.
"Look, I get it. I know how badly you wanted this and how much work you've put into it, but you need to rest. This is turning into something… isn't you."
Something about his words made Frogg stop in his tracks, as if he too realized what he had been doing. He had probably looked downright insane just then, and he was hit with self-consciousness. A claw went into his hair, and he was so very distressed and confused. "I-sorry. I'm sorry Professor. I don't know-"
"It's okay." Hans Reinhart put a hand on the troubled boy's shoulder and gently guided him. "Let's get you home."
But the Professor changed his tune the day the truth really came out.
Kicked off the project, Frogg took to spending hours upon hours every day in his workshop. Sometimes even he, as introverted and home bodied as he was, became claustrophobic from it, but he had found that his local bullies took their torment to a whole new level and became afraid to go out. There was a day that the Kiddie College students down his street cornered him, their grins malicious as they verbally tore his new appearance apart. He had been walking past what appeared to be one of their birthday parties – he was the only kid in his neighborhood that never got invited to these things - when they caught sight of him passing, and there was an entire gaggle of them soon trailing him as they mocked his appearance.
"So what are you now? Some kind of cyborg?"
"Where's your weird girlfriend? No one here to help you now?"
"Leave me alone, I haven't done anything to you," was all he could weakly protest as they tailed him for the rest of the block, their taunts becoming increasingly cruel despite looking quite silly in their birthday hats. Frogg didn't see it coming when he was shoved hard.
"Come on freak, show us what happened!"
And the other boys were singing a chorus, jeering Oskar the bully on, and that was when he pinned Frogg and began trying to pull a cybernetic from his wrist. Frogg was whimpering and trying to crawl away, but it was all useless against a boy who had superpowers, and he wished more than anything his friend Lisbeth was there to help him like she always used to - but it was all his own fault she wasn't. Though it should not have been easy at all with how snug it was and how tight the parts interlocked, this boy had superpowers, and Frogg had built in a release mechanism for such an emergency. The cylindrical claw detached and dropped to the sidewalk with a metallic clatter, silencing the relentless jeering. The pins in his amputation site had shifted just enough so that beads of blood pricked their ends, and Frogg could not hide it from sight fast enough, hide his hot face and how his eyes began to well. The silence was deafening, and then it began all at once.
"What the fuck!"
"That's disgusting!"
"Gross... Come on guys, let's go before someone sees."
Humiliated and blinking back tears of shame, Frogg had been forced to gather his cybernetic and retreat to his workshop with a limp, because he had landed on his ankle in an odd way when he was pushed. Sniffling in his walk of shame, Frogg vowed that for the first time, he would get back at them. Even if it was only in his imagination, he'd make them pay for their cruelty. Later that night at the dinner table, as he and his guardians had leftover stew for supper, Frogg sketched crude blueprints, and Gisela raised her eyebrows at what he drew.
"Is that supposed to be a clown? It's a bit disturbing."
"That's the point. I think Chuckles would be a good name," Frogg flatly responded as if his intention should have been entirely understandable, trying to use the irony of the birthday party attack against his future victims. He thought a good pie in the face from a creepy robot clown would be appropriate for those bullies. The woman did not say anything more, sharing a concerned look with her husband. As time went on, the less and less they understood him, and their concern grew. Even Frogg was aware that something was not quite right within himself - in his young age Frogg had no idea what depression was or how it felt, unable to identify the issue growing within. All he knew was nothing made him happy anymore. He wished he had his friend Lisbeth at his side, who would have given him one of her comforting hugs and always knew how to cheer him up. But he was still avoiding her, and she no longer came knocking on his door.
It was two weeks of this - this strange limbo of time where Frogg could only think about the laser he helped make, and the 'fake' Master's that he refused to hang on the wall next to his Bachelor's. Where every moment he wished he was just back in the lab. But then the news came that changed everything.
Hans was returning from a day of work at the Free University. He was currently teaching a girl close to Frogg's age who was a truly gifted pianist and had an inclination for math - these sorts of things often went in hand with each other – and Hans tutored her on the latter. While this student was incredibly bright, and though he would never admit it out loud, the Professor noticed that ever since Archibald moved on to college, Hans' work was just a little more… boring. He missed the challenge that came with tutoring his now adopted son - developing plans to keep up with him, plans to keep such a smart person stimulated at the rate he learned… the boy really had an enthusiasm that no other child could match. And now, he had something he thought that Frogg would really like to see.
"Archibald," the Professor called as he hung his coat in the foyer, "Are you there? I have something for you."
Frogg had been in the kitchen drinking orange juice straight from the carton, something he never would have done two months ago with his good manners. Even though it was close to five o' clock now, he was still wearing his oversized tee shirt and sweatpants from that morning, too lazy to change out of pajamas. He padded to where he had been called, and the Professor was handing something to him: a stack of papers. "I came across something today that I thought you might want to see."
Frogg accepted the pack in his claws and his eyes lit up at the title: An Analysis of The Use of Optical Amplification in Size Manipulation - A Study by Dr. A. Fischer and Colleagues, 1991.
"It's our paper! Has it been published? Did you see the guys in the lab? How did you get it? When-"
Professor Reinhart chuckled at the excitement and onslaught of questions, stepping past to get comfortable in his usual armchair.
"I thought you might like it. Well, the line for the copy machine was too long on our floor, so I went on up to the engineering level. That Finn of yours-"
"Flynn."
" . I don't think he recognized me at first, he was making copies like a chicken with its head cut off. Anyway, I asked how the progress was. They haven't published yet. I think he was rushed and just wanted me to shut up, because next thing I know, this was in my hands and he was off. I certainly don't miss that aspect of graduate school - the stress of it all."
"Have you read it?" Frogg was smiling – a sight that Hans had missed.
"No, not yet but when you're done, I want to see!"
Frogg happily obliged and bounded up the stairs to his room. In the dramatic way children often do, he launched himself into his bed and began to gather his blankets close to him like a nest so he could be extra comfortable. He was wondering what their findings were, what sort of items they successfully shrank since his absence, and if they provided photos in addition to all the graphs and sketches he had put together over the year. Grinning, Frogg licked the tip of a claw to help him turn the first page and settled in.
As he read on, however, his smile faded. First, there was palpable confusion on his face. It was as if parts were missing from the paper where credit was due… and he kept flipping to the references on the back, double-checking the names in parentheses beside claims of past research of his… he saw the familiar names - E. Becker for Emma, F. Wulf for Flynn, I. Arnab for Ishaan.
...where was the A. Frogg for Archibald?
Hans was sitting in his armchair and warming his feet at the fireplace. He had quickly graded what little homework he had assigned his latest student, because he was adamant that schooling was for the classroom rather than home. Now he was planning his lessons for next week, scribbling down a schedule when he became aware of his adopted son standing within the doorway to the living room.
Immediately, he could tell something was not right. Ever since he had become Archibald's guardian, he had watched the boy age over the past year like a rollercoaster. He had gone from the painfully shy, quiet, and reserved boy Hans first met to one that was on his way to realizing just how much potential he had. But then that seed of confidence was ripped away in a horrible lab accident, and as of late he could only witness it as Archibald became withdrawn in a way that was almost frightening - bitter, neurotic, and nervous to the point of anxiety attacks.
But now, seeing Archibald standing there awkwardly looking so small and meek, he reminded Hans every bit of the frightened boy he saw in the hospital three years ago. Hans sat up straighter in his armchair.
"What's wrong, are you alright?"
Archibald shuffled, and Hans realized that he was holding the papers that he had given to him. He looked scared.
"Professor... I think something's wrong."
"Doktor Fischer. Again, you may not realize it, but this is all that boy has… I know, yes- I know. With all respect-"
Frogg was hiding behind the stair banister listening to the phone conversation between Professor Reinhart and his former Principal Investigator down below.
"Doktor Fischer. You know more than anyone else how important this is. Yes, he got his Master's, and we thank you and the school for that, but without a project in his name he won't be able to... it will set him back years… why, because he doesn'tlookthe way he should anymore, is that why? Are you afraid of bad PR?"
Frogg absently grazed the pale scar on his face, the neighborhood bullies' taunts echoing in his head-Freak. Disgusting.
"This decision ruins years of work! That boy has gone through so much to get where he is, even over the Berlin Wall itself, and-hello? God damn it, she hung up on me!"
The professor never raised his voice, let alone become visibly angry or curse - this person always had the patience of a saint. Gisela, who had been in the same room as well, was saying something to her husband now but Frogg barely heard it. When the professor stormed by to grab his coat and walk off his temper, the two of them made eye contact, but there was no need for the exchange of words. Frogg knew what was happening, and it was terrifying.
They were phasing him out.
To be accepted into a Doctorate program, of course there are the obvious credentials – maintaining an impressive GPA throughout one's college career, a solid undergraduate thesis or dissertation, and then the actual bachelor's or master's degree depending on which discipline you plan to pursue. But what is just as important as the work itself, if not more important, is the proof. And in Frogg's case, despite dozens if not hundreds of hours of work, without that golden peer-reviewed article specifically naming him, Archibald N. Frogg, as a contributor, all that hard work was just… invisible labor. Even if he had an honorary Master's Diploma hanging on the wall of his room now, without his name being on the project that got him there, he would not have the credentials to move on to a PhD, let alone even validate an honorary degree. In the eyes of the academic community, he may as well not even been involved in this project. Involved in the program at all.
At first, he thought it must have been some silly mistake, that his team at the Free University would never do that to him and that as soon as he pointed this out, they would all have a good laugh but immediately correct the issue.
But as the truth unraveled, the worst part was that Frogg understood.
He was walking proof that the laser they had created was potentially dangerous to operate, and even if Frogg himself could admit that it was his own human error that caused the accident (and he would do so with no hesitation whatsoever). The fact was he had been severely maimed and nearly killed by their invention – publicly, it was aterriblelook. It would invalidate their research. But their work was what was going to get his colleagues into a Doctorate program… and heunderstood. He realized that if presented with the issue, he might have done the exact same, even if it would have been torture to betray the people he thought were his friends - eliminate the threat to their future rather than go back and restart a year and a half of grueling work, to lose all of that grant money that paid for the expensive materials and equipment.
But he was not going to give up that easily.
First it was attempted over the phone, Professor Reinhart making call after call to salvage what was being done to Frogg. The man was livid, knowing full well what this was going to cost the boy, but calls were left unanswered, or his PI would hang up as soon as she recognized the voice on the other end of the line. Then there were several messages left to the busy Dean of the Free University, or to the Departmental Head, but they all said the same thing - they were very sorry about Frogg's accident, but proof must be will help.
Frogg frantically went to the lab. He was going to gather all his work - the stacked disks full of data, the piles of notes and blueprints he had made - the proof that he had been involved in the project. But as he searched for his old belongings, there was not a single shred of evidence. Not even one of his dozen notebooks, a shred of paper, even a scrawl of his handwriting. Now Frogg wasreallypanicking. They must have cleaned up all his things. How was he supposed to know that this was going to happen? How was he supposed to have any idea that this would be done to him, and he should've immediately taken those things with him? The others were not there, but he had a good idea of where they might be.
It was a fifteen-minute walk, and when Frogg approached the biergarten that sat close to campus, Ishaan, Emma and Flynn were talking animatedly as they drank pints of Schwarzbier and ate lunch at their usual table outside, the one that Frogg used to join them at as well, sipping lemonade instead of beer.
"How come you're doing this!"
They had not noticed him approaching, and the graduate students were startled at his sudden appearance.
"Why are you doing this to me? I worked so hard just like everyone else! I would never do this to you!"
Frogg was drawing attention to themselves from all the other patrons. He was beginning to make a sort of scene, and the adults before him flushed at all the eyes upon them and in their own guilt. The boy was noticing the telltale signs that he was going to have one of his anxiety attacks, the impending fear that he was going to pass out in front of all these people, but still he shouted at them, and he was humiliated that he was beginning to cry, "I'm never going to be a Doktor if you do this,please-"
"Frogg… Arch.." Emma was shushing him, trying to calm him, "I'm so sorry. We all are, really. But it's not our decision."
"Yeah," Flynn contributed. "We tried to convince Doktor Fischer otherwise, but it's not in our control."
Frogg stood there with tears in his eyes, just looking at them in disbelief when it occurred to him. He thought they were lying. It was like a stab in the gut, the betrayal of it all.
"Really, we're very sorry, but we can't do anything."
But he didn't say anything else, feeling sick to his stomach, and just walked away in what felt like absolute horror, the sense of losing it all. They weren't going to help him. It was the last time he would ever speak to them.
Professor Reinhart had told Frogg to never approach Doktor Fischer on his own, that he should always have an adult with him to navigate the mess that he was being put through. That this was such a very delicate situation, and they had to be careful… but of course he did not listen. He was too desperate.
The first time he went to her office, he never thought he would have spoken to this woman the way he was now - reduced to the sort of begging that was undignified. He had always made such an effort to try to appear professional around her, to prove that he was not just some child, but he could not find it in himself to care today. He was much too afraid of what was happening to him, and she was impatient.
"Archibald, this is just the way it has to be," she was telling him sternly, "Think of your colleagues. Do you really want to harm their chance at a successful future?"
Looking back at this moment years later, Frogg would hate himself for being so naïve. He was too young to understand that what was happening to him was theft, and at the very least he should have had another adult with him. Or even better, a lawyer.
"Please,Doktor Fischer, all you have to do is put my name in the paper once, even as a reference, justonce-"
"This is final. I'm sorry, but you need to leave."
And she closed the office door on him so that he thought he might break down right in the hallway of the science building. He rushed out before he could be seen in such a way.
The next time he intercepted her, it was in one of the University lots as she stepped off the Berlin public transit. Frogg was pleading with her once more, tailing her as she made the walk inside, trying his hardest to make her understand - he deserved this, he earned it! When Doktor Fischer suddenly whirled around and raised her voice at him, Frogg was not expecting it and he recoiled with a yelp, his body still carrying the trauma of being abused by an adult years ago.
"Stop this now! You can't follow me anymore, you need to leave me alone. Go home, Archibald."
But despite this, he tried again during weekend hours when the department was closed to the public. When he unsuccessfully used his keycard at the University door, Frogg was confused and tried swiping it several times to no avail. He had 24-hour access, why wasn't it working? But then it occurred to him- his card had been deactivated. The twelve-year-old pitifully choked on a sob, in disbelief that this was truly happening, but soon after another student let themselves in and Frogg lunged for the door before it could fully close.
He found Doktor Fischer in her office, and she was not expecting him at all.
"Frogg! How did you get in here!"
He was mentally stretched thin as days of extreme stress compounded, so much to the point he could not catch the unsettled expression on her face, and he had no idea how alarming his behavior was. Frogg just wanted to fix what was being done to him. In his anxiety he had slept a total of twelve hours over the course of three days... He looked awful, bags under his eyes and his hair were even more disheveled than usual as he was trying to make his case again, because if only she justunderstoodmaybe she would change her mind, but that was when she abruptly reached for the phone and dialed a number.
"Hello, campus security? I have a student that has been stalking me for days. He needs to be removed from my office. Yes, Office 32 in the Science Department. Thank you."
It was as if he had been slapped in the face. The young boy immediately stopped pleading with her and blinked his tired, red eyes in confusion. It occurred to him just how insane he had been acting, that he didn't mean to be that way, he was just so very scared is all. "I.. I didn't mean…"
But she didn't say anything and began fussing with papers on her desk. No acknowledgement or eye contact with him at all, and with a chill Frogg was reminded of his father years ago, when he would be upset about his mama - acting as if Frogg was not even there, even after a beating. Was it ever going to end?
Soon the security guard Mister Arthur arrived. Frogg could see the look of surprise on the French man's face, thatthiswas who he had to eject from the building? But Doktor Fischer explained that the boy in her office was no longer a student and was trespassing, and Mister Arthur frowned when he realized that rules were rules. He placed a soft hand on Frogg's shoulder to gently guide him out.
"Come on, Arch. It's time to go."
Frogg trudged home as the sun began to set. Occasionally the boy would raise one of his cybernetics to swipe a tear that came from his tired, hurting eyes, and the metal was cold against his face. He was miserable. God, he was so miserable, and he did not know what he ever did to deserve this. To deserve any of it. He was absolutely convinced that he was cursed, and he was just so tired and wanted to go to sleep and never wake up, it was all just too hard to face.
That was when he saw her.
Frogg stopped in his tracks, immediately recognizing the girl who turned onto the street. She hadn't even noticed him yet; her gaze was fixed on the sidewalk and her hands were in her pockets. He could see from this distance Lisbeth had her eyebrows knit together, how she always seemed to be scowling when she was in thought. Just like three years ago when he first saw her, a blush spread across his nose, and it was as though he had gone back in time. He had missed her so much.
They made eye contact. It was the first time they had seen each other in close to three months.
"Archie!"
Frogg panicked and before he knew what he was doing, forever skittish and afraid, he ran. He was aware of the sound of pounding footsteps following him, and she was calling after him to stop and to please wait, but he could not let her see what he had become. He needed his memories of her to stay as they were - happy and pure - he did not know what he would do if that became spoiled as well. It would be too much for him, it would really be the breaking point.
Then there was an odd sensation. It was like some unseen force internally tugging at him, and that was when he realized his feet weren't meeting the pavement anymore. It was just like in his stress dreams about being stuck back in No Man's Land between the Berlin Wall - where he would run and run but not make any distance. There was a flash of fear. She was using her powers.
"No, no,no,no!"
Lisbeth had turned on him too, just like the neighborhood bullies. For the first time, he was afraid of his friend. He had never once considered the girl using her telekinesis onhim. His mind flashed back to the memories of them playing together, where Frogg would put his hand out pretending to be a Jedi from the Star Wars movies he had watched to help him learn English, and Lisbeth would be laughing as she pretended to be a Sith, using her telekinesis so they could have pretend battles with 'The Force'. Lisbeth could really do that to him, she could hurt him badly if she wanted. It was an alarming, disorienting thought, and then she appeared beside him.
"Please don't hurt me!"
Frogg was cowering, using his claws to shield his face as he hovered in the air. But then, his feet were safely back on the ground again, Lisbeth gently placing him down. Reluctantly, he moved his claws so he could see Lisbeth... she had begun crying, and she looked crushed, her voice cracking as she spoke.
"You really think I would hurt you, Archie?"
She was witnessing his cybernetics for the first time, assessing his new appearance through her wet eyes, and he thought she was going to curl her mouth up in disgust just like how everyone else had, but instead her bottom lip was trembling as she fought her tears… what she cried out next was like a knife to the belly.
"How come you won't see me? Why are you mad at me?"
Frogg was hardly aware of his own actions- it all came out at once. He threw himself onto her, wrapping his arms tight around Lisbeth and he began sobbing loudly, painfully. It was the release of days of torment, as if the floodgates within had been fully opened.
"I've missed you so much Lisbeth!"
When she returned the embrace, they crumpled to the ground until they were sitting on the curb of his neighborhood street, and Frogg was violently shaking from all his crying… what was wrong with him? How could he have ever let himself think that she would treat him like that? The two children held each other tight, both sobbing for their very own different reasons, and it was cathartically painful and embarrassing and wonderful all at once.
"I th-thought that you would think I'm a freak," Frogg was choking out between sniffles, and his head was resting on the girl's shoulder so that his tears were beginning to soak her coat. "That I- that I'm ruined and ugly, that you'd never ever like me again or w-want to be seen with me!"
"I thought you didn't want to bemyfriend anymore," Lisbeth was creating a mess on Frogg's clothes as well, but the two children did not notice or care at all. "You never wanted to see me, so I just stopped coming over. I thought you hated me."
"No, never! I could never ever hate you. I'm sososorry, I'm the w-worst," Frogg's crying was beginning to soften, and they were still wrapped up in each other's arms, and it felt so good and he had missed her so much. He had been so wrong to push her away. "Are you mad at me?"
"Yes! Yes, I'm mad! You ignored me! You're my best friend and you justleftme!"
"I wasscared, Lisbeth! I'm so sorry,es tut mir leid, I'm sorry..."
He never wanted it to end, but slowly they had to let go, and he saw her hands going to one of his claws. He longed ever so much for it to be like how it used to be… he missed his hands, he missed feeling her touch on his fingertips, and she looked confused as if she was just trying to understand why he did this to himself. Just like everyone else, she did not understand, but unlike all the others she did not recoil or show disgust at what he had done. He could not feel her experimental, soft touch.
"Does it hurt?"
"...yes."
It always would. Even years and years later, long after the superficial wounds would heal, it would always hurt. The phantom pains would never truly go away, neither would the memories of the accident and everything it ever caused. He somberly watched as Lisbeth used her delicate fingers to move one of the claws...
"Can you feel that?"
He was aware of the pressure of the claw being pressed against so it curled inwards, but with these, he would never be able to experience the sensation of touch again. He sniffled.
"No, not like that."
Lisbeth was frowning as she gently set his claw back in his lap.
"I'm sorry this happened to you, Archie."
"...me too."
When she then went to run an experimental hand against the scar on his chin and jaw, like a big ugly target and X-shaped, Frogg fought the urge to recoil, "When I had my accident, I fell on my face. It got all broken and scarred and it looks bad, I know.", but he did not realize he had leaned into the touch until she returned her hand to her lap. It was the first comforting touch in what felt like a lifetime.
"Do you really think I wouldn't want to be seen with you? Is that what you think of me?"
What he said was a whisper, ashamed, "I was wrong, wasn't I?"
"But it's me, Archie... I don't care what you look like... I just missed you. Look."
She reached into her coat pocket and when her hand came out and opened, there was a piece of concrete inside. Frogg's heart twisted, filled with warmth and pain all at once. He had the matching piece of the Berlin Wall rubble sitting right on his bedside table, the one that fit hers just like a puzzle piece.
"See? I always keep it on me. Even though I thought you didn't want to be my friend anymore, and even if you were a jerk, it still reminded me of you. So I keep it with me..."
He was not prepared for what he did next, just as surprised by his own action. Frogg closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss Lisbeth. He moved too quickly, however, and his mouth crashed into hers, hard enough that Lisbeth exclaimed and her fingers went to where her lips had been smashed against. Frogg was mortified, his face growing scarlet, and he thought that he was going to begin crying all over again at how tremendously he messed up, at how wide her eyes had become and how her fingers were pressed against her mouth in surprise.
"I'm- I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have-"
Frogg felt as though he could die from the embarrassment- he was beginning to tear up as he stammered apologies, he had messed it up so badly and he was such an idiot to think that she would ever want him, especially now with how he looked. He was so stupid... but then he became aware of Lisbeth grasping his arm in a way that made the babbling apologies suddenly stop.
"Wait," she urged, "Can you- can you try again?"
At first, he thought he might have imagined the question.
A bloom of warmth spread across his face when he stuttered a quiet and shy 'yes'. This was happening - his first kiss! And right now, while both their faces were puffy and wet from where they both had been crying? His heart was becoming a jackhammer, and Lisbeth had closed her eyes, waiting with her eyes closed, and he slowly leaned in this time…
Frogg's lips softly met hers.
It was chaste and sweet, the kind of first kiss that children innocently shared. She tasted like mint chap stick, and one of his claws had cupped her hand in his. When they slowly pulled apart, Frogg breathed out a hundred anxieties, nervous eyes unable to meet hers still, and she rested her forehead against his. He could have lived in this moment forever, and just for a little bit… it was as if everything was going to be alright.
"I really like you, Lisbeth."
"I like you, too, Archie... a lot... but.. but there's something I have to tell you."
When Frogg learned that Lisbeth was moving from Germany, he was not surprised, and the tears that slipped down his cheek were silent. He had become used to it by now - when one good thing presented itself in his life, it seemed something horrible always had to follow it. The two children held each other tightly.
"My dad is getting stationed somewhere else," Lisbeth explained, her voice muffled from where she had her face pressed into his coat, "He says without a Soviet Union anymore, the army doesn't need him here. I wanted to tell you, I really wanted to and I tried, but you wouldn't talk to me. I don't want to go. I want to stay here with you."
"I know," Frogg whispered, wishing more than anything he would never have to let her go. "I don't want you to go either."
He was absolutely crushed. He was going to miss her so much. It was so bittersweet, but at least he got to hold her one last time, he got to kiss her for the first time. She was using the small pad of her thumb to wipe the tears that were running down his face, even where it dripped onto the scar there, and at least he got to have that. What he said next almost physically hurt as it left him, for it only solidified the reality of what was happening.
"When do you leave? Where are you moving?"
"I don't know, someplace stupid in Canada, wherever Dad is stationed," she bitterly sniffled, and she was clearly angry at her parents. She was too young to understand it was not a choice, and she just did not want to leave her friend. "We leave Friday. But-"
She trailed off and Frogg gave her an encouraging squeeze. "What?"
"But can we do things together again before I go? One last time?"
He held her even closer. "Of course we can."
"Can we- can we maybe be more than just friends? Even if it's just for a few days?"
Frogg blushed. She had no idea that internally, he was practically dancing and shouting for joy, and he managed a smile despite how much his poor heart ached with so many emotions a twelve-year old could barely understand. "Yes...yes, I would really like that."
By now it was past both of their curfews. He helped her up from where they had been sitting on the curb of the street. Just like always, there was no need for words as they walked in their easy silence. Except this time, whenever the two would shyly look at each other, faces would grow red and they would begin to nervously smile, averting their eyes. Where he had his cybernetic in his jacket pocket, Lisbeth's hand was right in there too, and even if he could not feel the warmth of her, his claws curled over her in somber satisfaction.
He knew what he had to do.
For the first time since he learned of what was being done to him by the people he used to trust at the Free University, Frogg was having his moment of clarity.
He realized what had to be done as he dreamily laid in his bed that night. The tips of his claws rested upon his lips as he replayed his first kiss over and over in his mind, and in his other cybernetic he absently played with his matching piece of Berlin Wall rubble. When his mind went to the place it had been stuck in for several days, of how he could possibly salvage what was being done to him by the people who used to be his colleagues (or even friends, but how wrong could he have been…), for the first time he did not feel close to physical illness and the solution was clear as day.
Maybe it was the fact that Lisbeth was back in his life now, no matter how short it may be, and it had been such a beautiful and heartbreaking night all in one, one that taught him that he should not be afraid to take risks - to act when it was still possible. And he knew exactly what needed to be done.
If he could not reap the rewards of the invention he had worked so hard on, then no one could.