Remember, Remember The Fifth Of November

Title: Remember, Remember, The Fifth Of November

Author: pronker

Summary: They couldn't escape and after a while, it didn't matter so much.

Characters: Manfredi and Johnson, canon team members thought dead but shown in the last episode of Penguins of Madagascar to be trapped in Seaville, an aquatic theme park with state of the art security.

A/N From the one-sentence story challenge on theforceDOTnet, which concludes November 23, 2019.

IOIOIOIOIO

Day One

"Mustangs," they called each other, galloping up through the ranks to warrant officer only to have The Incident bust them back down to NCO three months before capture by Seaville; it was insult added to injury if you thought about it, which they did.

Day Fifty-Three

Once he accepted the reality of their incarceration, Johnson quickly realized the importance of routine, and he cajoled Manfredi into the schedule of wake, eat, talk, silence, entertain the humans, play, talk, exercise, play, sleep; it brought order from chaos and a structure for them to fall apart in as they waded through dreary communal living days.

Day Four Hundred Twelve

"'Cause they're mean, man, what more reason do you need?" snarked Johnson to Manfredi as Manfredi posed the familiar question once too often; Manfredi, who knew in his heart that Skipper and the guys didn't rescue them because they didn't know they still lived.

Day Seven Hundred Thirty-Three

Midnight darkness merengued behind his eyelids when Johnson paused his mindless circuit of their pen, stubbornly trying to discover a crack in the concrete or a hole in the fence a hole in the fence that occurred since last night's perimeter check - he opened his eyes once he started to pace again, struggling to ignore the sounds of Manfredi's hitched breaths and strangled whimpers to give him some privacy.

Day Seven Hundred Thirty-Four

"I'll deal with it, Johnson," Manfredi answered coldly in their talk time and Johnson replied, "Fine," because Manfredi was a pal, and you didn't ask some questions of a pal even if you had known him for a longer time in your life than you hadn't known him.

Day Eight Hundred Ninety-Six

"Knock me out, Johnson, whatever you do, just do it, please, bro, I can't get out of here, I can't breathe," Manfredi whispered, grabbing Johnson and tightening to the point of pain and then Johnson chopped at the join of neck and head just so until Manfredi sagged into his supportive flippers; he wouldn't do this for him again and there was no one to do it for him.

Day Eight Hundred Ninety-Nine

Still telling his best story on a lazy afternoon after entertaining the humans, Johnson murmured to Manfredi how soft the down next to his skin felt, how smooth and clean as he lay behind him, one flipper settled on his waist, the other gently massaging his belly; when he told Manfredi to step onto the balcony of their Atlantean suite, Manfredi felt not concrete but warm tile beneath his feet, saw bioluminescent fish circling just beyond the air lock, and wondered at sim-stars embedded in the dome.

Day Two Thousand One Hundred Ninety

Manfredi and Johnson were laughing into the Panasonic F100 camera because it was the fifth of November, the sixth anniversary of their capture that Seaville admin types thought needed fireworks along with Channel One coverage; when Skipper and the guys saw the footage and staged a rescue that night, the two mustangs declined to rejoin the Central Park Zoo herd but accepted the reinstatement of their ranks.

IOIOIOIOIO

The End.

IOIOIOIOIO