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pansypr3p · 4 years

Text

Concept:

(Before season finale (goldifying) but after the big mega bunny-explosion thing)

The Mod Frogs are short on food because of Scarlemange taking food for his coronation. Harris is considered a low-ranking frog due to Jamack’s exile, and others (besides Kwat, of course) don’t care for him because of this and his combined unusual appearance, so he is given a very small, non-sustainable ration amount.

So, Harris eventually gets desperate enough to try and steal food, and gets caught. This gathers a crowd, and eventually Kwat comes out to see what the ruckus is. Kwat sees Harris cornered, without Mrs. Sartori or any other authority figures in sight, and so Kwat backs him up.

Unfortunately, this only gets the both of them exiled. To add injury to insult, the group of frogs, meant to shadow them as they leave in order to make sure they actually leave, end up attacking them to try and steal their meager items. Kwat manages to get out of the fight relatively intact, having had a larger ration amount and as such, being stronger, but Harris is pretty heavily injured, having been mildly dehydrated, and hungry. The bruises littering his unusually pale skin were much larger than they really should have been, his eye was partially swollen, and the large gash on his arm was slightly inflamed, which was concerning.

Tie already cut, and his suit now in tatters, it broke all illusions of still being a Mod Frog. Harris hadn’t even bothered even trying to button his suit back up, he knew it was useless. He just discarded the external suit jacket, and tore his already ravaged sleeves all the way off so they could be used as bandaging for his wounds. His colorful arms were now showing clearly now, which was certainly a shocking act, considering all of his… hang-ups about them.

Kwat did the same, throwing aside her suit jacket and rolling up her sleeves. She looked more intimidating this way- her undershirt showed off her muscular frame well, and she knew it.

They traveled aimlessly for a short while, before deciding, albeit a bit hopelessly, to try and find Jamack. So, they set out to search for clues and information on where Jamack is. It takes a month or so of traveling through Las Vistas and other nearby parts of the wasteland, and way too many deals and… favors, but eventually they figure out he’s in Timbercat Village.

Luckily, since they’re relatively near the Timbercat Forest, it only takes another half month or so of traveling to get there. Unfortunately, they’re in the driest area near Las Vistas, and even less fortunately the half-month they travel is full of small but nonetheless harmful skirmishes, and the two combined work to worsen Harris’ already poor condition.

Kwat grows increasingly worried as Harris seems to get more and more tired, more and more quiet, but whenever she brings it up he simply shrugs it off, until one day, after a particularly harsh battle with some of the Umlaut Snake gang, Kwat suggests they stop and rest for the night, and Harris snaps. “No! We will not stop until we reach Jamack, we cannot afford to! Don’t you dare forget about what we’ve gone through to get here! What I had to do to get us here!” He yelled, throwing his hands up and tossing his spiked bat on the ground. He turns away from her, and crouches on the ground, hands on his face, “We- we need to reach Jamack as soon as possible, Kwat- I… Kwat… I don't think I… I don’t think I- I’ll make it much longer l-ike this,” He drags one hand down his face, voice breaking, and Kwat can see the shine of his tears in the last rays of the yellow-orange sunset.

They had become... closer, in the time they traveled together, and so Kwat felt she could get away with comforting him as he was currently. She approached him, and sat down beside him. She draped her arm across his slim shoulders, and pulled him closer. He leaned into her, and let out a strangled croak of distress. She spoke quietly, “Harris, we need to rest. I’m sorry about… what we had to do get here, I- I’m sorry that was ever necessary. I can’t fix that for you, Harris, hell. I can’t even fix it for- for m-myself,” She let out a strangled laugh, and Harris looked up at her sympathetically, “Just.. know I’m here for you. We’re in this shithole together. And… Look, you need food, and we both need water and sleep. Let’s just set up camp here, and I’ll go see if I can find anything in those stores we saw earlier. Okay?”

Harris takes a deep breath, and nods shakily, “O-okay. I… I can do that. Thanks for.. that. I.. Try not to get into any trouble, Kwat. Just…please stay safe. I.. I need you here with me,” His voice got quieter as he spoke, and remained shaky, but it still brought a small, sad smile to Kwat's face. She nodded to him, and grabbed her bag before getting up to travel back in the direction of the small town they passed earlier.

Harris focused on getting their, albeit limited, supplies out and set up, ready for when Kwat was back, which wasn’t for another hour and a half. When she did finally return, it was thankfully with a day or two's worth of food, a small sum of water, and the metaphorical holy grail, medical supplies.

Not just any medical supplies either, but pain killers and vaseline, which could be mixed and applied to their skin so they could easily absorb it. Kwat helped prepare and apply it, which was… a bit awkward, considering that his injuries were virtually everywhere on his body, but nonetheless it helped, immensely so. After they were done with that, they snacked on some of the food, and Kwat insisted Harris take the majority of the water despite being almost as dehydrated as he was. Kwat took first watch, of course, and Harris slept.. reasonably peacefully, bearing in mind what he’d been through.

After another few days of traveling, they come across their worst fight yet. They had been raiding a small apartment building that turns out to belong to the Humming Bombers. Harris manages to pack up a fair amount of stuff and run while Kwat holds them off, but this results in Kwat obtaining a substantial burn injury on her abdomen from one of the nectar bomb blasts. Now, with both of them having potentially lethal injuries, their only hope is to make it to the Timbercat Village before something terrible happens.

Finally, they make it to Timbercat Village. After weeks of traveling with injuries, having to scavenge for even a little food, they make it to their destination. They manage to limp their way to the entrance of the Main Hall, where Jamack comes out to see what the ruckus is about.

Harris passes out nearly immediately.

He manages to croak out weakly, fallen, hands and knees on the ground, “Jamack…I-I’m sorry for what we did, f-f-for what I did.. but I…I j-just… hnngh,” he groans, arms buckling and giving out, he continues in a raspy whisper, “Help us… a-at least help her… sh-she deserves it… please, Jamack… p-please,” before he completely passes out.

Kwat falls with him, sitting next to his prone body, breath shallow. She presses a hand to her chest wound, and hisses out a strangled “F-fuck,” Trying, and very nearly failing, to contain a pained croak. Jamack is still standing in the entrance, mouth agape, trying to find his words.

“Kwat, what… what happened? I.. I thought…” he trailed off, as Kwat chuckled, and then coughed. She put a hand to her mouth as she coughed, and it came away stained with red. Jamack gave a small gasp, followed by an aborted move to try and put a hand on her.

“There’s a food shortage back ho- back at The Pond. We- Harris needed more food. We got caught, and… and we paid the price for it,” she looks away from him. “We’ve been on the road for about a month and a half, now. Harris.. Harris isn’t doing well, Jamack, I know…” Her breathing stutters and Jamack rushes forwards and sets his hand on her shoulder before jerking it back, as if burned.

She continues, “I know we didn’t help you, when you were… exiled, but, please Jamack. If you really want us gone… well. You know what to do if you- you really want us gone. I.. I wouldn’t blame you. But, please, just let us rest here for a day or two. We haven’t made camp in days, a-and-“ A coughing fit overtakes her for a moment, before she continues, raspier and quieter than before, “I don’t think he’ll make it much longer, Jamack. He.. he’s not good. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ll make it much longer,” she looks at her blood stained hand, “I don’t think I will. So, wh-hat do you say, Jamack, for… for old times sake?”

She looks at him, staring right into what feels like the very center of his being.

He shakes his head, trying to wrap his mind around this. Misinterpreting this as a ‘No’, Kwat very nearly starts crying, letting out a small croak.

Jamack rushes to correct her, lifting his hands up towards her “No- no, not like that, I- I mean, yes, of course, you can stay- please stay, let me take care of you, let me help you, you- you’ve always been my family, you’re so important to me, Kwat, I- I’ll never stop wanting you and Harris near me, just- just stay with me, please,” his hands relocate themselves, one ending up on his leg, the other on his face.

Kwat lets go, and tears stream down her face silently. She laughs, swears to herself that this is fake, we could never get this lucky- except for this is real, she’s always known Jamack was emotional, she just thought his ability to hold grudges would hold out more.. more than his love for them. She was sure it was love, from the look in his eyes to knowing what he was feeling, she felt the same. They were family. They always had been, since when they were tadpoles.

She hesitantly holds her arms out, and Jamack practically dives in, careful to avoid her injury. Kwat’s hugs are the best.

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