Skipper stood at the caboose of the circus train, leaning against the railing with his flippers folded over his chest, feeling the wind whip past his face, and watching the tracks pass underneath. It'd been a little over twenty-four hours since he and the team had returned from their encounter with Dave, the crazy, jealous octopus that tried to turn them into mutants.

But that wasn't what he was thinking about. Dave trying to ruin the penguin species? Yeah, that was horrible. Him almost succeeding? Even worse! Despite all that he tried to do, Skipper hadn't really thought on it for more than a few minutes.

He was thinking about Private.

First thing's first—his horrible mistake. Private came this close to becoming a mutant—or worse—all because he insisted he be the distraction. Private tried to tell him he could do more, but he wouldn't listen. What was worse, he'd told the little cadet he could trust him. Now, he wasn't even sure he could trust himself. Another error in judgement, he could lose Private for good. Or Kowalski and Rico, even.

He wasn't sure which scene stuck in his mind more: Private being taken by Dave and him not being able to stop it, or when he thought Private had . . .

That was definitely the image that stuck more. Trying to squeeze himself through the bars of the cage, not caring if he broke a rib, as Dave lowered his slimy tentacle to the button. Watching the ray zap the little table Private was strapped to. Staring at the charred area that remained after the bright light had died away. Catching his tiny little feather as it fell through the air, thinking that was all that was left of him.

Hearing his heart break into a million pieces.

Feeling his throat close up to the point where he could barely breathe.

His stomach wrenching with guilt. It would've been all his fault. He got Private captured. If he would've died that day, he would've never been able to live with it.

He felt so proud of Private for saving all of them, and every one of those other penguins affected by the Medusa Serum. He didn't like the idea of Private getting in that machine and using his cuteness to save them at first, but then he had to make himself realize that Private had so much more than his looks. He may be a little innocent boy, but he has heart, commitment, and most of all, courage. He couldn't help but think of all the times Private had tried to prove himself to him, but all he could see was the cute, innocent little penguin that had hatched ten years ago.

He heard the car door open and shut behind him and looked back to see Private standing there.

"Hello, Skipper," he said quietly. "I was looking for you. What are you doing out here?" he asked, stepping up next to him.

Skipper found it hard to meet his eye and looked back down at the tracks. "I was just thinking is all," he replied.

"About what?" Private asked, coming to his side.

Skipper didn't respond.

Private frowned. "You're thinking about Dave, aren't you? You know he's not going to hurt us anymore," he said, hoping that would make him feel better.

Skipper sighed. "No, actually. I was thinking about . . ." His voice trailed and he looked over at him, his eyes dark. "I was thinking about how I almost lost you," he admitted slowly.

Private looked down for a moment. Then he met his eye again. "But you didn't, right? That must count for something."

"It's more than that, Private," Skipper replied, looking away with a wince. "You trusted me, and I let you down."

Private shook his head. "No, Skipper! You didn't let me down!" he said, reaching out and touching his shoulder. He reacted by batting his flipper away and turning to him.

"Yes I did, Private," he argued sternly. "You were trying to prove yourself to me, like you have been for ten years, but I refused to listen!"

Private opened his beak to respond, to refute his statement, but found himself unable to find the words. Honestly, he simply couldn't refute it because it was true.

Skipper ran his flipper over his face and looked at some invisible point beyond Private. "I just . . . I can't see any way I could possibly say I'm sorry and it be enough," he said slowly.

Private's beak quivered a little. "But you don't need to say sorry, Skipper. You thought what you were doing was what was best for the mission. It's not your fault," he said in a shaky voice.

Skipper continued staring past him. "That's just it, Private," he said in a breaking voice, "I wasn't acting for what I thought was best for the mission."

Private's brow furrowed. "I—I don't understand."

Skipper's face contorted, as if the words in his throat actually physically hurt. "I gave you the job of being the distraction because I thought it would be the safest for you. I thought I was acting for what I thought was best for you. And then it blew up in my face," he said, choking. He swallowed.

Private blinked back tears. "Skipper, I—"

"I don't want your sympathy, Private," Skipper said, looking at him, "or your forgiveness. I don't deserve that for something that could've ended a whole lot worse all because of a poor decision on my part," he said. Private was unable to blink back any more tears and one trailed down his beak.

"Private," Skipper said, putting a flipper on his shoulders, "what hurts me most is how I treated you—like you were nothing more than our little tag-along. The way you saved everyone—without a care for what may happen to you—you made me realize how many times you've tried to prove yourself to me and I—" He broke off and looked down.

"You what?" Private asked with a sniffle.

Skipper looked at him again. His voice filled with emotion. "And I couldn't let go of the little hatchling that changed my life forever," he said, trying and failing to hold back his own tears.

Private choked a little and he wrapped his flippers around Skipper and squeezed him tight, despite that it was probably breaking protocol. But Skipper didn't even let that thought cross his mind and squeezed the little cadet back, almost as if he planned to never let go.

Skipper felt a couple of tears roll down his beak. "I've never told anyone this, but—I've always thought of you as more than just our Private. I've always thought of you as—like my son," he admitted over his shoulder.

Private pushed back far enough to look at him, his beak open but unspeaking.

"I just wanted you to know that—I know that it seems like I've been ignoring you for all this time, but, the truth is—" He looked down for a moment, and then looked back to him— "the truth is that deep down, I've known for a while now that you're so much more than just the cute one. The reason I never said anything is because I wanted to deny the fact that—" He choked and swallowed— "that you're growing up. I was too afraid of losing you—too afraid to accept that you were ready for the harder roles. I never even thought about how my selfishness could be hurting you. I'm so sorry, Private," he finished, pulling him in and holding him tight again.

Private tried to respond, but he was also in tears. The two spent a couple of minutes just embracing. Skipper held him like he might lose him again, and Private was sobbing into his chest feathers, feeling a mix of emotion from Skipper's long overdue confession.

"I never knew you felt that way," Private finally said.

Skipper sniffed and pulled away. "I know, I should've told you sooner. It just took the idea of almost losing you—never getting the chance to tell you—to get me to finally spit it out. And I want you to know that I have never been more proud of you in my life than when I saw what you did yesterday. I don't care who helped, you were the hero. And I swear to you that I'll never take you for granted again," he said, reaching out and wiping the tears from Private's feathers.

Private sniffed and rubbed his eyes. Then he looked at Skipper. "Promise?" he asked softly.

Skipper smiled. "You have permission to slap me if I do," he said.

Private smiled and hugged Skipper again. Skipper smiled and patted his back.

"I love you, Dad," Private said, nuzzling his chest feathers a little.

Skipper's heart dropped into his stomach and he stared out at the fields racing by. His whole body seemed to freeze as if he'd been paused. He swallowed the lump in his throat and smiled as another tear slid down his cheek, looking down at the little cadet in his flippers, squeezing him a little tighter.

"I love you, too, son."