Penguins of Madagascar: Moving Situations

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kowalski
There is too long of a silence. I am hyper-aware that Skipper is hesitating and I am starting to think I won't get an explanation.
"Kowalski..." he begins, gently. Too gently. I hate how he is treating me like I am made of glass and could break at any second. "Please answer honestly: how much sleep are you having?" So he is still on that track and I am not getting any answers? I sigh, knowing that him knowing won't make any difference since I will be leaving soon.
"A couple of hours usually," I admit, guarded and ready for him to be angry at me. I am caught by surprise by his arms wrapping around me in a tight hug. "Um are you okay?"
"Am I..." Skipper repeated, voice breaking. "Who gives a damn if I'm okay after everything I have done to you?" I pull away from the hug, seeing a look on Skipper I have never seen before. An almost shattered kind of weakness. I hate myself for feeling guilty.

"I did this to myself," I say. "You didn't hold me at gunpoint and order me to do it, did you?"
"Not funny," Skipper muttered. "I made you feel like you had to even though you were great the way you were." It looks like Skipper wants to say more but he doesn't and I really hope I am not blushing at the compliment. For some unfathomable, almost painful, reason I still like him. I really am pathetic.
"So who told you it was a good idea?" I hesitantly ask, both wanting answers and wanting to change the subject. Skipper hesitates. "I have a right to know."
"I don't want to break confidentiality," Skipper says. "I promise though they said it helped in the vast majority of cases."
"Right," I mutter, turning away from him. If he can't answer the simplest question why am I even trying?

"Okay. Fine. I'll tell you," he says: I think he has noticed I am closing myself off again. "But promise you won't tell them I told you?" I nod. "Gale."
"Gale?" I repeat, for some reason surprised. It makes sense, he does everything in his power to make me miserable.
"Mhm," Skipper confirms. "He said he has studied psychology so I just thought he was the expert. You have no idea how many times I nearly gave up following his advice. Especially recently."
"Then why didn't you?" I ask. My voice sounds hollow and Skipper's evidentially concerned expression isn't making keeping my emotions in check easy.
"Because I'm an idiot," Skipper mutters, frowning slightly. "You would never have fallen for it." I'm not so sure. Okay, maybe not the same way as Skipper but I did play into what was probably Gale's plan by completely isolating myself.

"Kowalski...I know we have already talked about it but please stay," Skipper says, taking my hands in his. Is that something platonic? I mean it must be but...well...I push any thoughts concerning liking Skipper to the side for a moment. "I don't know what I – we -would do without you."
"Skipper, besides being first aid qualified what good do I do for the group?" I ask, making no effort to pull my hands away. It feels nice. "I still can't fight, no matter how much I try. Beating you the other day was a flux and we both know it."
"Inventing!" Skipper says, brightly. I stare at him in confusion and his smile fades. "What?" I forgot he doesn't know...
"I've quit inventing," I admit, watching as horror etches Skipper's features. "I was hopeless at it."

Skipper now looks on the verge of a breakdown for some reason.
"You were not hopeless!" he bursts out, so loudly it made me jump. "God, Kowalski, if I could take back the last few months... Okay there were a few mishaps but that is part of science, right?"
"You aren't changing my mind on this Skipper," I say, fighting the urge to give in because those damn eyes are so convincing and I could get lost in them, doing whatever he says. "I am hopeless and you suddenly having pity for how awful I am-" Oh no. Tears have starting pricking at his eyes: Skipper never cries and I don't know what to do. He pulls his hands away and stares at the ground, evidentially trying not to cry but failing. "Skipper, are you okay?" That proves to be the wrong thing to say because he actually starts properly crying. What have I done? Did him hurting me really hurt him that much. "Um...Do you want a hug?" A pitiful offer but it is the only source of comfort I can think of.

In response he wraps his arms tightly around me in a hug.
"I'm so, so, sorry Kowalski," he murmurs and I feel his tears dampening the shoulder of my jacket. I swallow back tears but it doesn't work. When did things become this messy? Can they even be fixed...?

Skipper
I shouldn't be crying: I have no right to be crying. I've hurt Kowalski, made him give up inventing, made him believe he's useless (and now that I think about it he didn't have much of a self esteem in the first place). I really shouldn't be crying, especially in front of Kowalski, but they won't stop falling. Hugging him is helping a little but being in this situation is just a reminder of how badly things have got. I can't stop apologising, over and over. Maybe one will sink in. Maybe one will serve as a reminder of how much I really care. That is more than I deserve though: I doubt we – especially me – deserve to have him stay.

I reluctantly pull away from the hug, knowing it would probably be weird if I kept it up. It doesn't help my guilt when I notice Kowalski has been crying too but I don't say anything, not wanting to embarrass him.
"I know it's stupid late but I doubt either of us will get to sleep," I say. "Want to watch a film?" That was the kind of thing we would do together, especially when neither of us could sleep, back when everything was okay. I am expecting a no, I fully deserve a no.
"That would be nice," Kowalski replies. I stare stupidly at him for a few moments, unable to hide my shock. Thankfully I compose myself relatively quickly and we head off downstairs to the living room.

I decide to put on 'Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith'. A commonly hated one but I know that it is Kowalski's favourite. Plus it has the best lightsaber duel of the entire series. I sit on the sofa and pat the bit next to me: again I am expecting him to sit in one of the other chairs or change his mind about watching the film at all but he sits there. Maybe I am now getting pity kindness? Although it does seem genuine. Maybe Kowalski just wants the best view of the film? Yeah, that makes sense.

The blaring theme tune comes on and I am glad that the others sleep like the dead. Kowalski shifts to be sat cross-legged and I glance at him, suppressing a chuckle. Despite everything, and despite having seen this film a million times, he has an intense look of concentration. It is adorable and one of the things that make Kowalski so endearing.
"Think you could make a lightsaber?" I ask without thinking. Stupid! Don't go upsetting him!
"No," Kowalski replies, shortly. He glances at me and sighs. "Even if I did still invent I couldn't. Kyper crystals don't exist in real life." Dangit: that would be so useful against Blowhole or Hans.

We get up to Anakin being denied the rank of Master when I feel my stomach rumble.
"I'm getting a snack," I announce. "Want anything?"
"I'm good," Kowalski murmurs, keeping his gaze locked on the screen. "Want me to pause?"
"No, keep watching," I say. "I'll only be a sec." I remember the doctor said he needs to eat so I ignore Kowalski and get out some of the bbq Pringles for him. It isn't much but hopefully he eats at least a few. I head back in and Kowalski does nibble on them.

"Don't you think they butcher Padmé's character a bit?" I ask, rather missing the more proactive version of her.
"Maybe a little," Kowalski says with loose shrug. "But in deleted scenes she is much more her. I wish they had kept them...sure the film would be super long but I would watch it." I smile again: Kowalski, at least for now, sounds like his old self. Brilliant, bright and a little bit geeky. How he hasn't got an entire line of people queuing up to date him I don't know. Fat chance I'll ever be that lucky now I've screwed everything up.
"Skipper? You okay?" he asks. I notice I'm frowning and quickly flash him a smile.
"Yes. Just thinking," I say, not wanting him to worry. He has enough on his plate without me and my crushing.

At the end of the film Kowalski drops of, still half sitting, head resting against the arm rests. I grab a blanket and gently put it over him, hoping he isn't too stiff and uncomfortable when he wakes up.
"I'm sorry Kowalski," I whisper for the millionth time. "I promise I will find some way to make it up to you."