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Half of the Stairs are Missing

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by TogetherAgain, May 23, 2009.

  1. TogetherAgain

    TogetherAgain Well-Known Member

    I sit on the floor of my bedroom, staring out the window at the trees in my backyard and pointedly ignoring the overflow of dorm room contents that still need to be organized and put away and thrown out and donated... I stare at the trees and think four years back in time, back to the summer of 2005... once called the Golden Summer of Fanfics. I think back to sitting out on a stump with a notebook and a pen, watching an ant climb up a tree while I wrestled with the phrasing of some paragraph or another...

    I have the same urge now that I did then. That urge to WRITE, to POST, to nag and be nagged, to completely IMMERSE myself in the strange community of MC… But what to write, what to write? I close my eyes and picture myself climbing the steps of the Muppet Boarding House. It's time to visit the land of my stories.

    I go into the house, into the family room. Rowlf is at the piano, unable to play, his paws bound in colorful casts. Ah... Say Cheese! He looks up from his casts and gives me a dirty look for leaving the tale to gather dust for so long. Around him, Rizzo paces on the phone with his brothers and sisters who refuse to tend to his sick aunt, and Fozzie practices for a number that doesn't have music anymore, and Clifford shifts his suitcase from one hand to the other and back, and somewhere in there, Kermit and Miss Piggy are casting each other awkward glances. I sigh and wince at the complicated plot, afraid to even try to remember the last scene I tried to write of it. I shake my head and turn to the kitchen.

    Here waits another story, as evidenced by the repeat appearance of characters I just saw by the piano. Here, Miss Piggy sits at the table, unhealthily thin, her hair limp, her clothes loose. She looks at me, and her empty blue eyes stare, numbly, mechanically assessing whether or not I'm a threat. Amazon? Moi? Kermit sits beside her, nervously watching, waiting to see the pig he knows and loves grow back from this shell of herself that a year in the jungle made her. The other Muppets whisper and encourage her, somehow bouncing back in an instant from the grief of thinking she was dead. I wonder at her progress and wince, afraid to find out whether or not I've figured out how to guide that tale to where it needs to go.

    I leave the kitchen and slowly march up the stairs. Halfway, I find Robin sitting on the step, with amnesia. I'm surprised to see him. That story never did make it to MC… What is he doing in this house? I pat his head, wonder if he will ever regain his memory, and continue to the second floor.

    I stop in Kermit's bedroom and see him standing at attention, in uniform, staring out the window. Heart of Gold. I gulp. He's preparing to go overseas again. I know what waits for him there, and I cringe. If only I didn't have this painful obsession with being somewhat accurate in my writing... WHY did I start a story about something so political? But I know why. I know so many reasons why. I wish I'd found a way to deal with my own personal issues that wasn't so... oh... international?

    Kermit does not flinch as several photo albums tumble to the floor from the open closet. I rush over and look at the open pages, and I feel my heart jump into my throat. Flippersteps. Flippersteps in the Sand, Flippersteps of Dance... What were the other titles? I had six titles, all ready to go... I flip through the photo albums, catching glimpses of so many, many years. So many scenes, painstakingly planned and never written. The making of GMC... hiring Steve... 1990... the boarding house... How Kermit found out Miss Piggy rode a motorcycle... I'm not looking in order. I sigh, flipping to the blank pages where there should be pictures of The Muppet Show, season one. Lousy writer's block. And now, all those years that were supposed to happen in the "future..." have already happened. It was such an intricate story... Elaborate, and heart wrenching... I wince at the mess of dates called the '70s, and the thick dust that covers these albums...

    Brushing the dust off my legs, I stand up and leave the room, walking down the hallway to Miss Piggy's room. She is standing at the foot of the bed, cradling a baby piglet in a soft yellow blanket. Change of Heart. She looks up from the baby and gives me an annoyed look. Am I EVER going to explain to the readers why she HAS this baby? Kermit fidgets nearby, glancing at Miss Piggy and looking away, again and again, wondering. I sigh and wonder what happens AFTER that explanation.

    At the end of the hallway, a grandfather clock strikes the hour. Startled, I flinch, look at it… and rub my eyes. It’s only HALF of a grandfather clock. …Well, of COURSE it’s only HALF a clock… I give it a fond smirk. The Time the Muppets Beat Time. Somewhere in that clock, there’s a Light, a feud, a disco, a dozen or so INCREDIBLY powerful but unwritten scenes… and a misplaced kidney with a bite from a halo-bearing mosquito.

    I shake my head, fold my arms across my chest, and slowly drag my feet back up the hallway towards the stairs. What to do? That itch to write, to post, is SO strong...

    I open my eyes, and I'm back in my bedroom, staring at the trees out the window again. I look at my computer and tilt my head. I do have OTHER stories... Half-written stories, fragments of stories, never seen by Muppet Central... but then... there are REASONS those stories haven't been seen by Muppet Central. Some... well, some aren't exactly appropriate for a family forum. I smile wryly at the darkest depths of my mind, reflecting for the thousandth time that no one would guess, from LOOKING at me, that I write such— ...But then again, the shirt I'm wearing today is covered with skulls and crossbones, so maybe I don't look as innocent as I think I do. I mentally assess the fragmentary library on my computer. Too dark, too dirty, too incomplete... Gee, this is working out REAL swell.

    Maybe I should just start a new story.

    ...Oy. Here we go again.
    MollyArriba and miss kermie like this.
  2. TogetherAgain

    TogetherAgain Well-Known Member

    Chapter One


    “Hey LOOK OUT!"


    “SWEETUMS? Can you reach the Frisbee? It’s on the roof again…”

    “Miss Piggy, do you have chocolate?"

    “Not that VOUS can use.”


    “I’m figurin’ out who’s got the worse bark. WOOF, WOOF!"

    “Hey, does anyone wanna go to the park?"

    “Kermit, Kermit! I’ve got an idea for an act! Can I PLEASE be in the show this week? PLEASE?"

    Kermit chuckled softly as he propped his flippers up on the porch railing he was perched on. “It’s our day off, Gonzo. Ask me tomorrow," he said. He leaned out towards the lawn and peered up towards the roof. “You guys get the Frisbee down?" he called out.

    “Not yet," Sweetums said as he set up a ladder just in front of the porch.

    “Don’t put that ladder away too quick, Sweetums," Clifford said, his arms casually folded across his chest. “That Frisbee’ll be right back up there in five minutes flat.”

    “Oh, you think it’ll take ya that long this time?" Kermit teased.

    I’m not the one who keeps throwin’ it up there," Clifford said.

    “If you say so," Kermit said mildly, his eyes straying to the edge of the yard, where Fozzie and Robin were playing catch.

    “Got it!" Robin said as he gave a little hop to catch the ball and throw it back.

    “Let’s move to the side a little. We’re getting kinda close to the curb," Fozzie said when he caught the ball.


    “Hey, LEW? If we can’t get the Frisbee down, can we just use your fish instead?"



    “Oh, sheesh. Looks like we’ll have to reseed some of the lawn again," Kermit said. He glanced at the next lawn over, where a man was distractedly watering his flowers and staring, slack-jawed, at the chaos known as the Muppets. Kermit gave him a cheery wave. “Hi Paul!" he called.

    Paul vaguely lifted his hand in some half-hearted, possibly frightened attempt at a wave.

    Kermit chuckled and shifted, his eyes straying over the yard. “Just another Sunday," he said contently.

    “GONZO! If vous take moi’s chocolate, vous will NEVER WALK AGAIN. Got it?"

    Kermit cupped his hands around his mouth. “PIGGY, YOU’RE TALKING TO GONZO!" he called out. “THREATS ARE COUNTER-PRODUCTIVE!" Sometimes, she needed to be reminded of that.

    “I got the Frisbee!" Sweetums announced, holding the plastic disk over his head.

    “Maybe we should go to the park to play…”

    “Hey, Gaffer!" Rowlf called up to a higher branch of the tree. “How’s the weather up there?"

    “Oops—bad throw," Fozzie said as the ball bounced over the grass to the curb and onward.

    “I’ll get it!" Robin said with a hop towards the pavement.

    Fozzie looked up at the street. “Wait—NO!"

    Kermit’s head swiveled towards the shout and nearly fell off the railing. “ROBIN!"


    The car stopped and Kermit dropped to the grass and the car door opened and Kermit was at the curb already and then kneeling in the street. “Robin?" He could barely hear how his own voice was shaking.

    The six-ounce, five-year-old frog was completely still, lying motionless on the unforgiving pavement, his fingers limply cradling the stray ball.
    miss kermie and newsmanfan like this.
  3. theprawncracker

    theprawncracker Well-Known Member


    I... I don't know what to... hubba-hubba-WHA?

    I... really... there are no words... You said it best...

    ...Oy. Here we go again.

  4. TogetherAgain

    TogetherAgain Well-Known Member

    MY word!

    Oh, you think that cute little Wembley smilie's gonna let you off the hook? Do ya? Huh? HUH?

    ...Well, you're right. But ONLY THIS ONCE!
  5. Beauregard

    Beauregard Well-Known Member

    Hubba-whaha? Well, after the very personal introduction. Which I loved, because I know that feeling so completely. Of characters half alive, half forgotten. This story was such a refreshing breeze of chaos and great one-liners which gave a complete picture of Muppetlife!

    And then...suddenly...It took a "Lisa" twist, and I got quite the stab...Great, thanks...
  6. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    *Gives der Lisa teddy bear and big monster hug. You post more fic please? :insatiable: Me love good fic. Me also wonder why not many Sesame fics or SST fic characters. But whadahay... Thank you Toga. *Glomp.
  7. Beauregard

    Beauregard Well-Known Member

    Now, Lisa, dear. You said to watch for the next chapter...and I *have* been watching...Where is it?
  8. TogetherAgain

    TogetherAgain Well-Known Member

    Ah, to be nagged again...

    <ahem> The next chapter is caught up somewhere in work, family visit time, lack of sleep, and very painful feet.

    We'll have to talk to Nyssa about that.

    But, I intend to work on it right now, so! <settles in>
  9. TogetherAgain

    TogetherAgain Well-Known Member

    Chapter Two

    “Oh gosh,” the driver said as she jumped out of her car. “Oh gosh. Is he—“

    “CALL AN AMBULANCE!” Sweetums bellowed.

    “Robin?” Kermit whispered, lightly touching his nephew’s cheek. He leaned down, his own cheek hovering above the little frog’s mouth as he watched the little green chest, hoping and praying for any sign of life…

    The Muppets had all gathered, a small, tight circle around the two frogs in the middle of this massive, worried clump of chaos. Fozzie was shaking, wringing his hat in his hands so violently that the hat was in danger of being ripped—not that anyone cared much about the hat just then. Several of the Muppets were interrogating the panicked driver. Why hadn’t she stopped? Hadn’t she seen him? Couldn’t she have swerved? Yeah, of course she was worried about him, because if he wasn’t alright, her insurance rates would never be the same, hokay. Scooter was on his cell phone, having already called 911. “Forty-four Bronson Lane, a little boy’s been hit by a car, I think he’s unconscious…”

    Kermit was oblivious to all of this, trembling as he carefully shifted his nephew’s head in hopes of opening an airway in the tiny frog’s throat…

    The ball slipped free of the little dark green fingers and rolled to the curb.

    “C’mon, Robin,” Kermit whispered, lightly touching his fingers to Robin’s throat. He let out a deep sigh. “Robin…” He leaned down so that his cheek once again hovered near his nephew’s mouth, watching his nephew’s chest… Trembling, he did his best to breathe for the tiny frog.

    “I’m so sorry,” the driver said frantically, staring at the frogs with her arms folded across her chest, her face pale. “I’m so, so sorry…”

    “The paramedics are on their way,” Scooter reported as he tucked his cell phone away.

    Rowlf—down from the tree at last—pushed his way through the crowd and set a heavy paw on Kermit’s shoulder. “…Pulse?” he whispered.

    Kermit nodded as he took another breath to breathe into his nephew’s lungs.

    Rowlf nodded. He had meant to relieve the older frog of his breathing duties, thinking him perhaps too upset… but part of him suspected that if Kermit stopped breathing for Robin, he would stop breathing altogether, and then they would have two unconscious frogs… and one was already far too many. …What could he do, then? Check for broken bones, maybe, but the paramedics would do that… and right now, who really cared if the bones were broken? Bones could heal. Broken bones were not typically life-threatening.

    Fozzie sank to the ground, shaking too much to support his weight, clenching his suddenly very limp hat to his trembling lips as tears slowly seeped through his fur. Gonzo knelt beside him and wrapped a firm arm around the bear’s shoulders, saying nothing.

    Sweetums paced the yard, furiously scratching his head, frequently glancing at the crowd, hoping for any sign of improvement… He didn’t dare look at his little buddy. He couldn’t look. Suddenly he marched across the lawn and through the crowd and wrapped a huge hand around the driver’s shoulder, with every intention to interrogate her himself

    One glance at the hulking beast, and the driver suddenly looked like she was about to either scream, faint, or burst into tears—whichever came first.

    Sweetums grunted and let her go, turning to pace the yard again.

    Most of the Muppets found themselves standing around the front lawn and the unconscious frog, needing to do something, unable to do anything, and equally unable to walk away. The sound of distant sirens might as well have been the song of angels. They turned and stared down the street, willing the ambulance to get there faster!

    The Muppets were herded out of the street as an ambulance and two squad cars pulled up in front of the Muppet Boarding House. Kermit was pushed away, his efforts replaced by an oxygen mask as he stood mere feet away, watching, staring. Rowlf and Scooter each kept a hand on his back, not that he noticed them much.

    One of the police officers led the driver away from the Muppets to calmly ask her a long series of questions that bore striking resemblance to the interrogations she’d just escaped. The other officers interviewed several of the Muppets. One of them sat on the curb with Fozzie, talking very quietly with the trembling bear, who was still tightly wrapped in—and seemingly oblivious to—Gonzo’s arm.

    Another officer tried to talk to Kermit… but the paramedics were more successful in that endeavor, though they had a different set of questions. What was the boy’s name? Robin. Robin the Frog. Was he Robin’s father? No. Who were Robin’s parents? His brother and—and ex-sister-in-law. Where were they? Their home, the swamp, in Mississippi. Did he have legal custody? Yes—well—except when his parents were there. Well then, they would need him to fill out some paperwork, once they got to the hospital. Did Robin have any known allergies? Any health conditions? Any family history of…

    “Sir—are you alright?” one of the paramedics asked, giving Kermit a concerned look.

    Rowlf and Scooter stared at the paramedic as if he’d just asked if the sky was pink.

    “You’d better sit down,” the paramedic said, guiding the frog to lean against the bumper of a squad car as Robin was carefully moved to a gurney and loaded into the ambulance.

    “I’m going with him,” Kermit said quietly, his eyes locked on what he could see of the gurney.

    The paramedic opened his mouth, looked at Kermit, closed his mouth, and opened his mouth again. “Yes, sir. Yes, you are,” he said quietly.

    Kermit climbed into the ambulance without even glancing at his friends, his eyes permanently locked on his nephew.

    “We’ll meet you at the hospital, Chief,” Scooter said. The leading frog did not answer him… nor did the go-fer particularly expect him to.

    Reporters and photographers came and were shooed away. The police officers slowly cleared the scene, insisting that they would “get back to” Kermit to question him. The Muppets didn’t particularly notice how the driver or her car left. Kermit sat beside his unconscious nephew in the ambulance, oblivious to it all, but painfully aware of the paramedics running test after test on the five-year-old frog before finally pulling away with the siren wailing.

    The Muppets stared as the ambulance vanished down the street.

    “…Alright,” Rowlf finally said. “Let’s load up the bus.”

    “But everyone make a pit stop first,” Scooter prompted.

    “If you HAVE to!” Miss Piggy amended. “There will be bathrooms at the hospital. Kermie needs us there ASAP.”

    With this agreed upon, the clump of Muppets divided in three. Most of them went inside for the bathroom, a decent portion climbed onto the bus… and a very few went no farther than a few feet before stopping and turning to Fozzie, who still sat on the curb, wrapped in Gonzo’s arm, his face buried in his hat.

    “…Fozzie?” Gonzo quietly prompted. “C’mon…”

    “…I—I think I’ll—stay here,” Fozzie choked out.

    Gonzo looked over his shoulder at the two other Muppets who had stayed with the bear. Rowlf shook his head. “I disagree,” he said quietly. “Kermit—“

    “He’ll NEVER FORGIVE me!” the bear wailed, dropping his hat to the curb and clamping his hands over his wet eyes. “I’LL never forgive me!”

    Gonzo gulped. “He’ll be okay, Fozzie,” he said, trying to believe it. “Robin—Robin will—be—“

    “LISTEN to me, Fozzie,” Miss Piggy said, snatching the bear’s shoulders and forcing him to look at her as she dropped to the curb next to him, dismissing Gonzo’s arm. Her steely blue eyes shot into Fozzie’s. “VOUS are Kermit’s BEST FRIEND. He NEEDS you now. YOU! And YOU are coming WITH us to the hospital. GOT IT?”

    Fozzie gulped and nodded shakily, his chin quivering.

    Miss Piggy looked at him for a moment, and then—much to his surprise—pulled him into a tight hug. “And Kermie will forgive you,” she whispered. “Trust me.”

    Fozzie sniffled and wiped his eyes and nose with his hand before carefully sitting up, freeing himself from Miss Piggy’s embrace. “I—I guess I’ll come,” he said quietly, shakily, as he reached down to pick up his hat.

    He froze, staring down at the curb, where his now shapeless hat sat beside the stray ball.

    With a loud gulp, Fozzie wrapped his fingers around the ball and picked it up, holding it to his chest as he tucked his shapeless hat onto his head.
  10. theprawncracker

    theprawncracker Well-Known Member

    ...DANG IT, LISA! ! ! Ugh... Muppet tears SUCK--and boy, were there a lot of them here! I loved it all. Loved Gonzo's arm, loved Rowlf, and Kermit, and Pepe, and Scooter, and SWEETUMS--AH! That poor, poor driver! AND PIGGY! ! LOVE HER! I loved the pink sky and the breathing and--and--AHHHHH! ROBIN HAS TO BE OKAY!

    BUT FOZZIE! ! ! Need a teddy bear 'cause of the teddy bear! GAH! Take that ball Fozzie, and GET TO THAT HOSPITAL!

    MORE PLEASE! ! ! !
  11. Beauregard

    Beauregard Well-Known Member

    Wow...stunning. I'd forgotten just how much I missed your writing, Lisa. It beckons. It beckons. Now, I'm just not letting myself think about little Robin here, because I know you well enough to know that he's in no immediate danger...and that we're not going to find out anything about him for about another 7 chapters anyway...Instead, I'm most worried about Fozzie because FOZZIE considers himself responsible...and there is nothing more heartbreaking than Fozzie considering himself responsible. And I'm so afraid that Kermit is going to snap at him, and Fozzie would never recover from that...

    Also, Gonzo. Glad that he's helping, but he was originally going to sing "Two Lost Souls" with Robin, before his long arm meant he couldn't...so there's obviously a connection there.

    Sweetums...I'm frightened of what he might do if he gets upset or goes into a rage. Do the words, "Hulk Smash" mean anything to you?

    Over all, you've struck again. Struck deep young Lisa.
  12. redBoobergurl

    redBoobergurl Well-Known Member

    Man, I didn't get on MC much this weekend, I am ashamed to admit I don't spend as much time here at all anymore and one of the reasons - lack of excellent fan fiction like this. From authors I love like YOU. Lisa, this is an amazing start to the story and the title, oh you got me withi the title before I even dove in, I just knew it was a Robin story. And when you introduced it and mentioned the summer of 2005 - wow. I remember that summer. I remember those days of so many stories to read, stories I was writing too, stories that Prawnie wrote and Ed and Beau and everyone. That was an awesome summer. Maybe this summer we can all recreate that. At any rate, once again you've done it, welcome back and it gives me so much thrill to say to you again: MORE PLEASE!
  13. TogetherAgain

    TogetherAgain Well-Known Member

    Chapter Three

    Kermit watched without seeing as his flippers met the floor of the waiting room again and again and again. Once in a while, he turned. More than once, he turned after having walked straight into a wall or a piece of furniture. He was shaking.

    “Robin,” he mumbled again and again as he stared unseeing at his flippers. “Robin, Robin…”

    Thunk. Oh yeah. Wall.

    “Robin… Robin…”

    They had pried him from his nephew’s side mere moments after they’d arrived at the hospital. The tiny frog had been whisked away on that big gurney behind some cold, emotionless double-doors…

    At the same time, someone in scrubs had handed him a small stack of paperwork about the five-year-old frog’s insurance, medical history, allergies, health conditions… He was only five years old. Only five. Only six ounces…

    Kermit had somehow managed to fill out the details of the forms, and someone in scrubs had whisked it away with the assurance that they would tell him as soon as there was anything to tell… as if that was any assurance at all.

    “Robin…” Thunk. Oops. “Robin, Robin…”

    He had to be okay. HAD to be! He was GOING to make it, and… and live, and… and…

    Kermit trembled as he paced the waiting room, occasionally bumping into a wall or a chair or a table… He didn’t know what else to do.

    That was how the Muppets found him. They watched him for several long moments, waiting for him to notice the huge group of people—of his family—that had just entered the room.

    He didn’t.

    The Muppets shifted and nudged each other forward like a crowd of penguins—although, some of them were penguins, anyway—until Fozzie was finally prodded ahead of them all. With a hard gulp, his limp hat lopsided on his head, still clutching that pathetic ball to his stomach, the bear meekly inched his way towards his friend.

    “Robin,” the trembling frog mumbled. “My—Robin—“ He weakly shook his head. “Why…”

    Fozzie pushed the ball into his stomach so hard that it hurt as he stepped into the frog’s path. “K—Kermit?” he choked out.

    Kermit walked straight into the bear and immediately snatched him, clenching the brown fur in his green hands. “WHY WERE YOU SO CLOSE TO THE ROAD?” he screamed.

    The ball dropped, bounced, and rolled across the cold tile floor.

    The frog’s knees buckled, but his impossibly tight grip on the bear’s fur kept him off the floor—for now, at least. “My Robin—“ he croaked. “Robin—Robin…”

    Fozzie shakily wrapped his arms around the bawling frog as his own tears sprang forth again. “I—I—I’m sorry—“

    Kermit somehow lost his grip on his best friend's fur and slid down through the bear's arms. He curled in desperate tears on the cold hospital floor.

    Gonzo bent over and picked up the ball that had rolled into his foot. He gulped.

    “I’m sorry!” Fozzie wailed, slipping his shapeless hat from his head as he dropped to his knees before his friend. “Kermit, I… I didn’t—mean—“

    Gonzo stood as still as stone, staring down at the ball in his hands as the rest of the Muppets surged forward and gathered around the two on the floor. Sweetums parted the crowd with two giant steps forward and swooped down, scooping up frog and bear in one arm each and gently, grimly setting them on the couch, where the rest of the Muppets fretted over which of the two was in most desperate need of hugs and tissues. Then the hulking beast turned and trudged over to where Gonzo stood alone.

    Gonzo looked up to him, his eyelids hanging low with a heavy sigh. Sweetums bent over and put a heavy hand on Gonzo’s shoulder, nudging him towards the couch. Gonzo gulped, nodded, and stepped forward. Sweetums stood back, quietly watching.

    They had propped Kermit up among the other Muppets, and they were holding him, wiping his tears… He was clenching someone’s hand, but he didn’t particularly know or care whose it was. He was very still, staring out at something, not seeing anything.

    Gonzo gulped as he stepped forward. “…Kermit?” he said quietly.

    The frog turned his head, staring blankly at the whatever through a mess of tears.

    Gonzo inched closer and handed the ball to him. “Here,” he said quietly.

    Kermit numbly took the ball and set it in his lap. He stared at it, and nodded. Gonzo sat down on the floor and leaned against the couch.

    Sweetums hugged himself tight and slowly dragged his feet across the cold tile of the waiting room floor. He leaned his head against a window, staring down at the rose bushes just beneath the glass…

    The double doors opened. “Mr. the Frog?” a soft voice said.

    Kermit shot to his flippers, breaking out of the arms of his friends, clutching the ball to his stomach. The other Muppets all lifted their heads, their attention snapping to the woman in scrubs who had just addressed their leader. “Yes?” Kermit said quietly, shakily.

    She came to stand in front of him, putting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “He’s… stable,” she said quietly. “We’ll be moving him to the pediatric wing soon, but… you can see him now.”

    “Is he okay?” Rowlf asked.

    The woman looked at him, and then at the rest of the crowd. “…He… will need a lot of time to recover,” she said quietly, choosing her words carefully. “If… If he recovers.”

    “He will,” Kermit heard himself say, very quietly but very, very firmly.

    The woman slowly nodded. “Follow me, Mr. the Frog,” she said quietly, and she looked at the other Muppets. “The rest of you will be able to see him, once he’s moved, but it’s best if we keep the crowd down for now.”

    The Muppets nodded and watched as their nearly-fearless leader quietly trudged after the nurse to face his greatest fear. He vanished behind the double doors.

    Fozzie swallowed hard. “If?” he whispered meekly.

    “He will,” Gonzo said firmly. “You heard Kermit. He will be okay.”

    Sweetums hugged himself a little tighter.
  14. Beauregard

    Beauregard Well-Known Member

    I'm...Just...Couldn't...I'm just...I didn't think you would, but you did...Oh Kermit...Oh Fozzie...Oh Kermit...Oh FOZZIE...oh KERMIT...OH FOZZIE!...shhhhhhhhh....
  15. Alpha Centauri

    Alpha Centauri Well-Known Member

    I'm at the edge of my seat, so much drama!
  16. theprawncracker

    theprawncracker Well-Known Member

    ...Oh my... GOSH! This might actually be the most heart-wrenching thing that I have EVER read from you, Lisa. It's SO powerful and SO good. I loved it. The relationship of three Muppketeers team of Kermit, Fozzie, and Gonzo positively oozes through this chapter and I absolutely love it. It's inspiring, that's what it is! It makes me want to pop open my own story and write a great K.F.G. scene (curse this stupid social life preventing me from doing so!).

    Keep this up. It's brilliant--and you do hospital scenes the best out of anyone I know. So... MORE PLEASE!
  17. Elmo The Second

    Elmo The Second Active Member

    OMG! This is like the Young and the Restless ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL over agian! I feel like crying. Poor Robin. Just like Pawncracker. MOREEEEEEEEEEEEEE Please! Never Stop! =[
  18. redBoobergurl

    redBoobergurl Well-Known Member

    That may be the single most heartwrenching scene you've ever written. I could hardly breathe while reading it! And yet, even with the drama and the sadness and everything - everyone is PERFECTLY in character.
  19. TogetherAgain

    TogetherAgain Well-Known Member

    Chapter Four

    The woman led him through the massive room. Curtains all around the sides of the room sectioned off individual beds…

    “He’s still unconscious,” she said quietly as she stopped in front of one curtained-off bed. “The doctor will stop by soon, to explain details.” She pulled the curtain back a few inches and gestured for him to go in.

    He didn't know or care that he was shaking as he stepped into the space. He gripped the curtain for support. "Rob-in," he whispered.

    The tiny little frog looked even smaller in the huge hospital bed. There was an oxygen mask over his face. There was an IV drip, and a heart monitor, and… And his nephew... looking so small and fragile...

    "Oh..." He somehow got to the edge of the bed, where he sat and reached out to fold Robin's small, little hand in both of his own, leaving the ball in his lap.

    He sank down and hunched over, putting his head near their hands, his eyes never parting from the young frog's face as he gently set a kiss on those tiny fingertips.

    "Robin?" he whispered. "It—it's gonna be okay..." He felt his shoulders shift. "It's gonna be okay, Robin. ...I'm here. Uncle Kermit's here... and…" He held the hand firmly. "It's gonna be okay," he said. "You're gonna wake up. And everything'll be okay..."

    He swallowed hard and, keeping his eyes locked on his nephew, carefully lifted the ball from his lap and set it beneath the little frog’s hand.

    “There,” he said faintly. “It’ll be okay…”

    Robin lay very still in the hospital bed as the monitor counted out his every heartbeat.

    The curtain pulled back behind him. “Mr. the Frog?”

    Kermit straightened up and glanced over his shoulder at the doctor, his hands still wrapped over Robin’s.

    “I’m Dr. Livelong. I understand you’re Robin’s… guardian?”

    “Until his parents get here,” Kermit said quietly, his worried eyes straying to his nephew again. “He lives with me…”

    Dr. Livelong nodded and sat down at the foot of the bed. “I’m afraid he’s in bad shape,” he said, picking up a chart that had been hanging on the bed. “Fractures all through his right arm… shattered several bones of his right hand. That will take some extensive physical therapy, but he’s young enough that he should be able to regain full motor skills, if…”

    “He will,” Kermit whispered, not needing to hear that if, his eyes remaining locked on his nephew. “He will wake up.”

    “…He’s doing remarkably well, all things considered,” Dr. Livelong said quietly. “His heartbeat, is… is weak, but… steady. He had some—considerable bruising, of course, but… most of his bones are—surprisingly intact.”

    “…Bruising, and broken bones…” Kermit mumbled quietly, trying to piece everything together. He slowly turned and looked at the doctor. “…Why isn’t he awake?” he asked.

    Dr. Livelong winced. He had been dreading telling this part. “…His head… was knocked around, pretty hard,” he said quietly. “It hit the car, and the pavement… We’re not sure yet, what the full extent of the brain damage is. His skull is fractured… which—may have saved his life, really. It released the pressure…”

    Kermit gulped and turned to look at his nephew and the ball that was resting beneath that tiny green hand.

    “Have you contacted his parents yet?” Dr. Livelong asked.

    Kermit shook his head.

    “You may want to do that while we transfer him to the pediatric wing,” the doctor said quietly. “We’ll be doing that any minute now.”

    Kermit slowly nodded. “…Can—can he keep the ball with him, while you move him?” he whispered.

    Dr. Livelong looked at the ball under the tiny frog’s hand. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I’ll make sure that he does.”

    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

    Someone put a lot of effort into decorating the pediatric wing of the hospital.

    Someone spent a lot of time choosing just the right shades of red and yellow and green and purple and orange and blue. Someone very carefully selected the carpet covered with bright circles and squares and triangles and trapezoids and diamonds for the waiting room. Someone painstakingly planned and drew and painted the mural of a castle around the entire nurse’s station, complete with knights and princesses and fairies and wizards. Someone picked out exactly which pictures of which fairy tales to hang on which walls. Someone deliberated long and hard over the animals and the sports and the stars and the planets and the super heroes and the smiling faces on the wallpaper in each of the rooms. Someone lost sleep debating whether to make rooms gender-specific or to be politically correct.

    Someone put a lot of hard work into making this wing of the hospital a little less grim.

    Kermit barely noticed all of that hard work as he plunked coins into the payphone. The other Muppets stood close to him, waiting for the nurses or the doctor to tell them that Robin was settled in his new room.

    “Mom won’t be in her office,” Kermit mumbled to his friends as he listened to the rings. “But I can leave a message, and she’ll get it tomorrow…”

    “Isn’t there a faster way?” Rizzo asked. “A whole DAY—“

    “The swamp doesn’t have electricity,” Scooter reminded the rat. “Or phone lines.”

    “So get cell phones,” Rizzo said.

    “Si, but den how do jou charge dem, hokay?” Pepe pointed out.

    “Hi-ho, Mom,” Kermit said quietly into the phone, and Miss Piggy hastily hushed the other Muppets. “It’s Kermit. I—I’m calling…” He gulped. “…I—I have—bad news… I… I need to talk to… to Jimmy and Leaper… Robin, is—is hurt—“ He gulped and took a shaky breath. “He—He was—hit by a car, and… he has—has—“

    “Here.” Rowlf scooped a tight arm around the frog and took the phone. “Robin fractured his arm and shattered some of his hand bones. He has a fracture in his skull, and—we don’t know about the brain damage yet. We’ll keep in touch as best we can, of course. Give Kermit’s cell phone a call when you get this. One of us will answer.” The dog hesitated, gripping the phone in his paw. “…Don’t worry about Kermit, Mrs. the Frog,” he said quietly. “We’re all here. …Talk to you soon.” He carefully hung up the phone and put his paw on the wall for support.

    Kermit was half-buried in his friend’s dark fur. “…Thanks, Rowlf,” he said quietly. “…I—I couldn’t—“

    “I know,” Rowlf whispered.

    The Muppets huddled together as the frog and the dog leaned on each other and the other Muppets nearby. This had not been easy news to bear.

    Fozzie hugged himself tight as he backed away from the group and plopped down in front of a chair. He dumped his head into his hands, burying his face as his limp, shapeless hat fell off of his head and landed on the carpet, in the middle of a bright red triangle.
  20. The Count

    The Count Moderator Staff Member

    As I've come to learn with Lisa-writing, it's best to just read and nag for more, she'll post, we'll cry, laugh, applaud or invariably ooh and aah.
    The pediatric wing of the hospital amuses me, it reminds me of my old pediatrician's office's wallpaper from when I still had better sight and went there of course.

    *Tightly quiet-huggles Lisa not letting go until she promises to make this right with another chapter.

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