Penguins of Madagascar: Moving Situations

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Skipper
Kowalski has gone to do the weekly shop and Private and Rico have gone out elsewhere. I am left alone with Gale. I am beyond pissed off at him: I know he was trying to help but as a result we nearly lost Kowalski. That is something that makes me tempted to punch him every time I see him. So far I have managed to keep my temper but now we are alone in a room with nothing but an awkward silence between us.
"Is Kowalski okay?" he finally asks. I scowl at him.
"What do you think?" I snap, death glaring him. "Because of your advice he is miserable! Your idea completely backfired!"
"In my defence that technique usually works," Gale replies in a blasé tone. Wrong thing to say. I stand up and storm towards him, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall.

"Cut the bullshit!" I yell. "Kowalski nearly left!"
"How was I meant to know that?" Gale retorts, looking indignant as he pulls away from me, looking defensive. "Are you sure he was going to leave?" I nod, the fight draining out of me rapidly. "I really didn't think that would happen..."
"I know, you were trying to help," I mutter, not wanting to admit it though. "Still you didn't! Kowalski doesn't even trust me anymore."
"I mean you work together: trust isn't too important, right?" Gale asks. My anger bubbles up again.
"Kowalski is – well, was – my best friend," I snap. He would have maybe been more if I hadn't been too much of a wimp and if Kowalski didn't have standards. "And you nearly ruined it!"
"And I'm sorry about that," Gale says with a truly apologetic expression. It is apologetic enough that I feel guilty for snapping at him.

Hopefully I am less annoyed when Kowalski comes back...If he comes back. Kowalski may have taken the opportunity to run away! Or maybe shopping was too strenuous and he collapsed again! Or driving was and he crashed or- God, I am becoming as panic ridden as Kowalski. None of those are likely except for the first one which isn't comforting but...

The door opens and Kowalski comes in, balancing bags upon bags. I let out a sigh of relief and got up to help him, motioning for Gale to help too.
"Get anything nice?" I ask.
"I got the ingredients to make salmon pasta tonight," he replies with a loose shrug. "And no, Skipper, I am not going to not cook. It is something to do..."
"If you say so," I say unconvinced, not agreeing with him. I believe right now we – in particular me – should be doing everything to make him happy again. Then again he is usually happy doing something...
"Let me help?" I suggest, not too hopefully. Kowalski rarely accepts help.
"Well it's all in one pot so there isn't much you can do..." Kowalski points out hesitantly. Dangit. "We could talk or something whilst I cook?" I perk up at that suggestion, even if he is just saying it to cheer me up.

We unload the shopping, me noting Kowalski even picked up some fancy coffee I like. It's more than I deserve. That doesn't stop me from immediately starting to make one as well as a cup of tea for Kowalski.

Kowalski
I head to my room , busying myself with a book. Skipper is being nice, there is no denying that, but his hovering is getting exhausting. He is treating me like I am made of glass and could break if looked at the wrong way.

I stare at the book, the words switching places and swimming around. I groan, closing the cover. Focusing on anything these days has become too much of a chore: my emotions keep muddling me up. I think about how I still like Skipper but then my fears convince me not to tell him. I think about how maybe I should tell Skipper about Gale but if the latter hurt Skipper as a result it would be all my fault. I think about leaving but I don't want to leave Skipper (or the others of course). Gale I would be all too happy to ditch though. I think about stop being so annoyed at Rico...yeah talking to him is probably a good idea.

The door opens and Gale steps in, giving me a murderous death glare.
"You are dead," he hisses once the door closes behind him. "Because of you Skipper went rabid at me!"
"What did I do?" I protest without thinking. Idiot. I should have learnt by now Gale doesn't like to be questioned. He balls up a fist, slamming it hard into my stomach, knocking me to the ground. He sneers at me.
"Still weak," he mocks, giving me a sharp and painful kick to the ribs. Then another to the stomach. Skipper must have really done something...?