Disclaimer: I don't own Penguins of Madagascar or Soundless Voice by Kagamine Len. They are owned by their respectful owners. All copyrights reserved.


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It's midwinter. The snow falls from the heaven, slowly floats through the air and drops on the ground, melting. It's midnight, but here I am, sitting in the middle of winter night. Fumes form before me as I breathe—I don't care about the cold. Sure, it's cold this night. It's almost numbed my skin, but I ignore the cold. My focus is on my girl, who is lying on my arms before me.

Her skin is pale, her eyes are closed. When people glance at her, they might think that she's sleeping. But—no, she isn't. In fact, she will never wake up. And I sit before her, looking at her like an idiot, trying to think what I have to do to wake her up.

Marlene—she suffered from deaf and mute. As her neighbor, I used to visit her apartment and slowly I became her life pedestal. At first, I thought it was a boring job, and I ever thought that being with my team was better than being with her. But slowly, I couldn't help but wondered what happened that could make her lost her ability to hear and talk. Mason's brother, Phil, was also mute but at least he wasn't deaf.

Once, I asked Mason how he could understand Phil's hand signs, because Marlene always used her hand signs and I completely didn't understand what she was talking about. Mason said that it would need a lot practice to read hand signs. I didn't want to waste my time to practice such thing, so I immediately asked Kowalski for options. He suggested that I should use paper and pen to communicate with Marlene.

This worked. Marlene seemed to be happy when I lent her a paper and a pen, as I gestured her to write something she wanted to tell me. This was how we spent the entire time; we communicated through paper and a pen, unlike many people who used to talk with mouths and hear with ears.

Through this communication, we knew each other. We knew each other's names, age, favorites, dislikes, and other things—though I replied most of her question with 'classified'. But in every single day, we would see each other, stared at each other's eyes for a moment, before one of us lent a piece of paper and a pen, gestured the other one to start a conversation.

One day, I couldn't help but asked her what had made her deaf and mute. I wrote my question on the paper, "Marlene, I don't mean to change the topic, but I'm curious. What had made you deaf and mute, if I may ask?"

I passed the paper to her and she read it. At first, her expression was curious, but when she read the rest of my sentences, Marlene's eyes dimmed. I was alarmed at this, meaning that her story must be really sad. She leaned down and wrote something on the paper as the reply. As soon as she was done, she then passed it to me.

"Do you really want to know?" she wrote.

I frowned, trying hard to figure out the exact answer. Finally giving up, I grabbed a pen and leaned forward, writing.

"If you can't tell it, it's fine. I'm just curious, is all. After all, I have no rights to know about it," I wrote, and then I passed it to Marlene. Marlene read it, and then she frowned. I didn't know what was in her head, but I waited patiently for her reply.

Silence then followed. I thought she was considering on telling it to me or not. A moment later, she leaned forward and grabbed my pen, writing. I was surprised. Did she actually tell me about it, or did she reply with a 'no'? I didn't know.

This was the most exciting thing in chatting through paper. Every little thing that she wrote was a surprise and I really looked forward for the next surprise. Although there were no sound and voice to fill this room up, I still felt convenient in talking to Marlene. She was realistic and full of surprise; though I was a bit worried about what she would write.

It took a while when she wrote on the paper. I just hoped that she wouldn't waste one full page of the paper—or maybe the whole paper itself. But I couldn't help but think; what if she wrote insults at me to shove me out of her past? If so, then there was no chance of us being together.

A while later, she passed the paper to me. When I looked at her in question, she avoided my gaze by turning her head around. I frowned, baffled by her demeanor. I then focused on what she written on the paper.

"It was an accident that happened a few years ago, when I was a child. My parents, my older brother and I were going to a village where my Grandmother lived. We went there by car. We've brought what we needed and we went happily, because it was the first time I was going to see my Grandmother. We sang songs along the way and played guessing games. My Dad and my older brother answered most of the question my Mom and I asked. It was fun and all ... Until the accident happened."

I frowned at this. I knew that beyond of their happiness, there was a problem. I continued to read.

"A truck driver who drove the truck at the opposite way to where we were going was drunk and you must have known what would happen."

The truck crashed Marlene's family's car. It was a classic accident, but I frowned, cursing at the driver madly for crashing Marlene's family and made Marlene deaf and mute.

"I was the only one who survived. My Mom and Dad died in an instant. Ambulance then came at the nick of time, but the strange thing was I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't hear the talking people though there was a big commotion, I couldn't hear the doctors who brought me to the ambulance; I couldn't hear anything but weird ringing in my ears. At the hospital, I found out that I'm deaf and mute because of my broken eardrums and vocal chords. My older brother managed to breathe at first, but then he died because of blood loss. The doctors said he protected me when the truck came and crashed our car. And they also said if it wasn't because of my brother's act, I wouldn't have survived."

I stopped reading because it caused my heart ache to read more about it. I looked at Marlene once again, and she was in the edge of crying. She noticed me not reading anymore, but she gestured me to read it more. I didn't want to, but for the sake of her, I reluctantly read.

"Years of becoming an orphan and lived in an orphanage didn't make me feel better at all. The children treated me like a wild animal. They bullied me, spat at me ... It was sheer torture, I tell you. When I was twelve, my uncle at California finally came to me and raised me like his own daughter. But that also didn't make me feel better. I was lonely—no one would want to befriend with me because of my deafness and muteness. But my auntie and my uncle were always there for me when I was lonely and needed someone to 'talk' with. We communicate with each other like this.

"My uncle and my auntie always encouraged me to get a work when I was twenty. I was going to the college, and my uncle paid me for the college and an apartment. I didn't want to leave them behind, but this was for my life, so I left them with a goodbye. We're still chatting through e-mails. But in New York, I was always lonely. No one wanted to befriend with a deaf and mute woman like me."

I stunned at the last sentence of the paragraph. I held the urge to yell at her to not write like that. But it was no use to yell at her. Besides, it was her opinion. I continued to read.

"But then, when I moved to this apartment, and when at the first time I met you, I felt as if my world was going to change. And I think it's true. You understand me completely like an open book even if I can't talk or hear you. You quickly got yourself a paper and a pen just to talk with me. I don't know what to say about that, but I'm really grateful and appreciate your kindness."

It finished right there, so I looked at Marlene. She smiled, with a hint of sadness there. I quickly grabbed my pen and wrote, "Don't be ridiculous. I did that because I couldn't understand your hand-language." I hid a blush so Marlene wouldn't see it. Then I continued. "But I'm glad you appreciate my kindness. I'm not one with mushiness in my team, but for this time, just for you, I'm really glad you appreciate my kindness." I smiled at those sentences.

Actually I wanted to write more, but I quickly passed the paper to Marlene, and hid a blush by turning my head. When I turned around, she smiled—purely smiled. At the moment, I felt like there were thousands of butterflies in my stomach, and I felt heat rising to my head. I bet I was blushing at the moment, because Marlene laughed—without a sound, of course—at my face. I was annoyed, but also glad because of that.

Marlene and I, we both see each other as an equal. Every time I felt lonely and needed a company, I always snatched a bunch of paper and a pen—or two, in case if the first pen ran out of ink. Marlene would always be in her apartment, smiled at me when I visited her. I couldn't help but smiled as well.

Yes, we were two completely different beings. I had my own wills, and she had her own. We were different. But yet, we still wanted to see each other—we still wanted to meet, despite that we were different. Once we met, we didn't speak, we didn't hear—we wrote. We wrote to each other and we read each other. Sometimes I could be able to read her eyes—her beautiful, sparkling amber eyes. Those eyes were contrast to mine, which Private once clarified was dark blue sapphire. I could tell if she was purely happy, faked a smile but she actually was sad, angry, joking—I could even know if she was in the edge of bursting out crying.

Once she was crying, though I didn't know what had made her crying like that. Sure, she was lonely because of her physical disability. But I never heard that she would cry because of that, for Marlene was an individual that would never give up on herself and on people around her—including me, despite that she couldn't talk and hear. She was powerful on the outside, but fragile on the inside. That was why I vowed to protect her, so she wouldn't have to cry like that.

When she cried, I couldn't hear her voice. It was like she was crying in silence; like she cried but I couldn't hear anything—as if I was the one who was deaf, but I knew I wasn't. She embraced me around my shoulders, as her own shoulders trembled. I never heard one single voice came out of her throat and mouth. Tears sparkled because of the light, and each dropped very slowly on my jeans.

I couldn't do anything but embraced her tightly. I couldn't say a word, half of it because I knew she wouldn't hear anything if I spoke, and the other half was because I was stunned to see her crying for the first time. The only thing I could do was holding her tightly; to remind her that I was right there to protect her.

Since then, I always dismissed my team and sprinted out to Marlene's apartment. Kowalski and Rico thought that I didn't care of them anymore, but Private would always reason them that I went to Marlene's apartment was because I vowed to protect her. Rico, fortunately, was relieved when he knew the truth, but Kowalski seemed didn't buy it. But I didn't care. My focus was on my girl.

That was the first time I heard Marlene played piano. When I stepped inside, the first view I saw was Marlene, the woman in her mid-twenties, sitting on a chair, playing a grand piano in her bedroom. At the first note, I couldn't move due to the amazing note she was playing. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, and I couldn't breathe. The amazing song she played froze the entire time in the world, and everything around us was nothing but bright and wide white space. And instead of seeing Marlene in her suit, I saw an angel, resembled as Marlene, playing the piano.

When the last note hung in the air, she noticed I was at her doorway of her bedroom. She stunned. I immediately picked up a piece of paper and wrote with my pen, that I was sorry for not knocking on the door, and instead barging inside her apartment and looking for her. I knew her for about a year and a half. That was why I usually didn't knock on the door, because I knew she knew that nobody wanted to visit her except for me. Usually I wouldn't trust anyone except for my team. But this woman changed everything inside me.

When I showed my apology on the paper to her, she smiled—purely smiled. And this was the first time I saw her moving her mouth, as if she wanted to speak something. I caught her mouthing, "How was my play?"

She asked. For the first time, I saw her moving her mouth, asking about her play, through her mouth instead of through paper like we used to. Even if I didn't hear any sound came from her mouth, this was a miracle that she actually asked me directly by mouth. I smiled, while I was jumping up and down, cheering on the inside. I tried to conceal my happiness on the inside, and replied with my thumb up and a grin.

She beamed. Her smile widened and her eyes sparkled with joy. She jumped from the chair and hugged me, thanking me with a tight hug. I couldn't help but smiled and hugged her back, tightly. I was very proud of her, finally able to ask through her mouth. Even though there was no sound coming from her throat, I was still proud of her.

That was when I felt wetness around my shoulder where she leaned on. At first I thought she was crying, but when I pulled her, I was surprised to see blood running through her nose. I couldn't speak. Not that I became mute, but I was scared. What happened to her? Was she okay? I couldn't think straight, so I brought her to Kowalski, in hopes he could do something.

When I brought her to Kowalski, I was sure something was going to go wrong. My never-wrong gut said so, and for the first time, I wished that my gut was wrong. Kowalski and Rico were surprised I brought a girl to our apartment, but Kowalski was the most surprised. I knew he knew I wouldn't bring any random girls to our apartment, but that was different. I insisted him to check Marlene's health despite her protests through her struggles.

"Please check her health, Kowalski," I pleaded. "You're the science guy in here. It'll be too long to bring her to the hospital."

Kowalski raised an eyebrow. "Why would you want me to check random girl's health?" he asked.

"She's not any girl, Kowalski!" I snapped. "She's my—my closest girl friend. I can't let her sick like this. Besides, she was nose bleeding!"

"Nose bleeding?" Kowalski said.

"Yes! Can you check her health?" I asked.

Kowalski agreed to check Marlene's health. When the two disappeared behind the metal lab door, I began pacing in front of Kowalski's lab, worrying about Marlene's health. Private had comforted me that Marlene would be okay, but the fact said otherwise. I knew that.

When Kowalski and Marlene stepped out of the lab, I quickly grasped her tiny hands and looked at Kowalski, asking a silent question. Kowalski was frowning, meaning a bad news for Marlene. My worries increased.

"Not only does she suffer from deaf and mute, but she also suffers from leukemia," he clarified.

I couldn't speak, I couldn't hear, I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe—it was as if I was the one who suffered from deaf, mute, and leukemia.

Kowalski had suggested that she should take chemotherapy, but she declined. I've insisted her to take the chemotherapy for her own good over and over again, but she stubbornly declined. She said she was fine, but every time I visited her apartment, I always found her lying on her couch. Her face was pale. I told her to take the chemotherapy, but once again, she declined. I even brought her to our apartment so Kowalski could persuade her to take chemotherapy, but she refused over and over again.

I sighed as I grabbed another paper and wrote a reply, before passing it to her. "I give up. I've done everything I can to make you take the chemotherapy, so you would live. But you decline. Very well, then. If this is what you want, then so be it."

Marlene read it before leaning down and wrote. She passed it as soon as she was done. "Yes, this is what I want. Because, the thing is, you've done too much for me. I think you're too kind. I don't deserve everything you've given me, because I'm not perfect. Besides, I'm just your friend. I'm not your girlfriend or fiancé. You've done too much for a friend, Skipper."

I was hopeless. This woman was really stubborn than I thought. I sighed once more, placing the paper on the table. I couldn't reply her. There was nothing I wanted to tell her. There was a silence in the kitchen; uncomfortable and suffocating silence. Rico didn't even dare to break the silence when he read her reply.

We were in the kitchen, and Private had served Earl Grey tea for her. She hadn't even touched it. A moment later she grasped for the paper I placed on the table and wrote something on it. For the first time, I wasn't curious about what she would write. When she passed it to me and I read it, the time seemed has stopped.

"Can we go out? Just the two of us?"

It was midwinter, and the temperature was enough to freeze a bottle of water in mere hours. But she insisted to go with me—just the two of us. I didn't know what she had in mind, but I let this one slide. I let her do anything she wanted as long as it made her happy.

We went to Central Park, because the view was beautiful there, and because Marlene insisted me to go there. Marlene smiled along the way—I didn't know what she had in mind. Maybe she had another surprise. I couldn't help but smiled along with her, but also worried about her at the same time. She had been a bit woozy recently, and for the first time, I was really afraid if she was going to collapse.

I was afraid of her health. Kowalski said her health had been decreasing rapidly, and that made me alarmed. But every time she was asked to take the chemotherapy, she refused.

We arrived at the Central Park. We walked around, bought cotton candy for Marlene, and bought snow cone for myself. We played around the park, throwing piles of snow to each other, laughing. We enjoyed ourselves in the park, while I was trying to forget about Marlene's health and enjoying myself with her.

All this time, I always wanted to tell her something, but I was afraid. Every time I went to her apartment and tried to tell this to her, my courage was slipping away. That was why I intended to tell this to her. When I was about to take a paper, she poked my shoulder and pointed to a hill, where the sun was beautifully setting. Marlene then pulled my black jacket—gesturing me to go with her to the hill.

I smiled and followed her, running to the hill while tried not to spill my snow cone. She sat at the edge of the hill, and I sat beside her, watching the sunset in winter. It was truly beautiful. The clouds were no longer gray, but mixture between purple and orange. The sun's rays brightened the gray clouds, and it was just beautiful.

This was the right time to tell her. I prepared my paper and pen, writing on it. As soon as it was done, I passed it to Marlene as I hid a blush. Marlene received and read what I had written. I turned my head away from her gaze; I was too ashamed on what I had written.

That was when I felt my shoulder was heavy. I turned around, and saw that Marlene had collapsed on my shoulder. I tried to shout her name, in hopes she would wake up. It was useless, but I kept on shouting her name. Her face was pale and her skin was as white and cold as snow. I panicked.

"No, no, no ... Marlene, don't do this to me, please!" I screamed as I lifted her up with my arms in bridal style. I was afraid. I was really afraid she would die in my arms. I intended to take her to the nearest hospital on foot until she stirred. I gasped. "Mar-Marlene!" I said, though I knew she wouldn't listen. She was weak. Her skin was pale and cold. "Just—just hang on there, Marlene. I will save you—just hang on," I said.

She shook her head. I was shocked. She—she actually listened? Wait; did she say she was deaf?

Marlene slowly reached for my paper and pen, and wrote something on it. I was puzzled, until she passed it to me.

"I read your lips. You said something about hang on and save me. Don't bring me to the hospital, please."

I widened my eyes as I eyed Marlene in amazement. "You—you actually read my lips?" I stuttered.

She nodded. She read my lips. She actually understood me by lips-reading. She then grabbed the paper I was holding and wrote more. Then she passed it to me again.

"You just have to say something clearly so I can understand."

I understood her last sentences, but I didn't understand about her writing, 'don't bring me to the hospital' thing. "Why—why can't I bring you to the hospital? I can't just leave you like this!" I protested.


At night, when the silence envelops the town, it's raining white. I hold up my palms; the snow melts as soon as I touched it. A transient piece of life.


She wrote again, "It's too late, Skipper. I've suffered from leukemia long before you know it. I've suffered from leukemia when I was moving to the apartment, before meeting you. I tried to hide it for a long time so I won't trouble anyone else. But I think I've troubled you more than this. So please don't bring me to the hospital."

I tried to hold my tears. I shook my head. "No! You're wrong! You're not troubling me! You've done nothing wrong to deserve any of this, Marlene! Please don't trouble your body more than this! You've been suffered for a long time—I don't want to see you suffer anymore!" I shout, desperately wanted to bring her to the hospital, so her life can be saved.


Say you're in pain, say you're lonely—I'll find you, wherever you are. Don't leave me behind. Aren't we always together as one?


She wrote. "No, Skipper. Maybe, yes; I've suffered enough. But this is life. We're born, we life. When the time comes, we'll die. As humans, it's natural for us to suffer from fate. But if this is what Mother Nature wants, then so be it."

I couldn't believe what I've read. "N-no, Marlene ..." I shook my head in disbelief. I took her tiny hand, pressing it gently in my hand as I embraced her. "Please—please don't go, Marlene," I whispered. "I can't imagine life without you, Marlene. Please ..."


As the snow becomes thicker, you gradually fade away. I can't do anything but embrace you. I wish, just one more time, to hear your voice. One more time, just one more time ... Say my name ...


Marlene smiled—bitterly smiled. She lifted her hand that I pressed gently to my face. She stroked my cheek gently. My body trembled like there was an earthquake. For the first time in my life, I cried. My tears wouldn't stop. That time, I wished—just one more time—she could say my name. Just one more time, I wished I could hear her voice.

It was snowing. The snowflakes quietly fell from the heaven, slowly melted once it touched my body. But her skin was pale and she was cold as ice. I couldn't do anything but embraced her.

She leaned forward, closing her eyes. I subconsciously leaned forward, too, as I closed my eyes. Our lips touched each other for a long time. Tears flowed from my eyes even though I've closed them. They dropped to the ground and froze. I gently pressed my body against hers, and gently squished her tiny hand in my hand, in hopes she could recover from her illness.


You are becoming cold; your voice has not come back. We've given up understanding each other. Hear my voice, smile for me once more. I have run out of tears. I cannot melt you ...


That was when I felt her hand slowly became heavy. I tried to grasp her hand but it slipped from my grasp, fell on the snow motionless. I sobbed, loudly.

I haven't even told her how much I love her. But she fades away, away from me—from my grasp.

Why? Why are you gone so fast, Marlene? I haven't even told you that I love you. And I haven't seen or heard you accept me or not. Why?


If I'll be in a world alone without you, just ... Take me away with you.


It's midwinter. The snow falls from the heaven, slowly floats through the air and drops on the ground, melting. It's midnight, but here I am, sitting in the middle of winter night. Fumes form before me as I breathe—I don't care about the cold. Sure, it's cold this night. It's almost numbed my skin, but I ignore the cold. My focus is on my girl, who is lying on my arms before me.

Her skin is pale, her eyes are closed. When people glance at her, they might think that she's sleeping. But—no, she isn't. In fact, she will never wake up. And I sit before her, looking at her like an idiot, trying to think what I have to do to wake her up.


I love you, even that cannot be said. Even if I shout, I can't get you or your voice ... back.


I scream, embracing her tightly in my arms. Tears once again flow from my eyes, drop on the snow, frozen in an instant.

I close my eyes. I decide to be with her, even if it costs my life.


Everything is transient; my voice, my life.


I lay down beside her, all the while holding her hand tightly, waiting for Mother Nature to take me with her.


Erase all of them, until all is white ...


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The End


A/N:

I'm back. With another one-shot. Well.

I intended to make the ending to be more touching, but I think the ending is weird ... Also, don't judge me about leukemia thing. Disease is not my thing.

Yup, this is definitely Skilene for Skilene shippers. X3 If there are grammar errors and typos, please do inform me via PM. If you have any question, ask me via PM, too.

Please listen to Soundless Voice by Valshe. It's really touching! T_T

Review?