Work Text:
3AM.
Deep within the Cobra Unit's base in a small, windowless room they'd dubbed the Rec Room, the large wall clock ticked away steadily.
The Fear lay stretched across a singed mahogany sofa against the farthest wall from the doorway, lidded eyes skimming a magazine. He chewed a bite from the apple in his other hand, left foot twitching with restlessness. "What a repulsively boring evening. At this point, I might take a nap just to get away from it."
"You just need something constructive to do."
Beneath the single light in the room, The Pain sat hunched over the large table next to a tan suitcase that held an assortment of small bottles and jars, eye droppers and miscellaneous items related to chemical work, busying himself preparing pheromone vials for combat.
Using the delicate precision reminiscent of an explosives handler, The Pain poured a yellow liquid from a metal container into the vial between his naked fingers. Swapping the container for an eye dropper, he filled it with fraction of clear blueish liquid from a tiny jar. A few well measured drops went into the vial. He capped the vial in his hand and shook it a few times. The liquid inside swirled and became a vivid, almost otherworldly green. The Pain tucked the vial into an empty holder on his vest and set about doing another.
The Fear took another bite of apple. "Want me to help you make your pheromone potions?" He flipped a page on the magazine but became distracted by buzzing in close proximity. An errant hornet passed on its way to join the rest of swarm collected along the wall nearest The Pain.
"No," The Pain said with the tiniest bit of nervousness at such an idea hinted in his voice. "Er...This is a very delicate procedure that requires someone with trained skill, you see."
"Well then, it looks like the only constructive activity I have for now is eating." The Fear looked over his apple. "Did you know that with my metabolism I can stay awake for a few days straight on something as meager as an apple? One time I stayed awake for an entire week just by consuming squirrels."
"Sounds like a fine method of torture. Who'd want to be awake that long?" The Pain placed another vial into his arsenal. "Or eat squirrels," he added more softly.
The Fear, seconds from a witty retort, paused for reflection. Given the experience of the crushing boredom plaguing him at the moment, The Pain had a very good point. Being bored for extended periods would drive anyone crazy.
"Hmm. You might be right," he said, looking thoughtful. "Somewhere, years ago, I did hear talk of insomnia being linked to insanity." His teeth sank back into the apple.
"Well, that certainly explains a lot more about your condition, doesn't it," The Pain said jokingly.
The Fear forced a dry laugh through his nostrils. After a lengthy moment of silence, he flipped another page on the magazine he wasn't reading. "Want to hear an odd dream I had?" he asked, his mouth full.
"Huh? What?" The Pain, absorbed in his current task, was only half listening.
The Fear swallowed his bite, inunciating the words for safety. "I said, do you want to hear a strange dream I had a few nights ago?"
The Pain pondered it over for half a second. "No, not really."
"It begins in this huge, seemingly endless forest."
"I just—ah." Shaking his head, The Pain turned back to his work and filled another vial.
"This positively ancient forest is wild and overgrown, somehow untouched by humanity until my arrival. It's bursting with all manner of flora and fauna, many I don't recognize from anywhere on earth today. Truly the most gorgeous place I've ever seen in my life. Downright biblical paradise. Naturally, I prepare to do some hunting."
The Pain looked over his collar and made a "tsk tsk" at him. "Fear. You would dare go poaching in a veritable garden of Eden?"
The Fear responded with a purposefully loud bite of the apple. "Of course," he answered shamelessly. "So, I set my sights on a large, fat, juicy rabbit. This thing is the size of a Cocker Spaniel." He gestured with a free hand, the magazine laying forgotten on his stomach. "That's when I notice the daylight is fading. Suddenly, it's growing close to dusk. The whole place changes. It turns maze-like and hostile. I soon realize that I am the one being hunted. I sense my enemy's presence, feel his eyes on me. Though I cannot see them, I know they're...hungry."
The Pain finished capping the last vial. Soon he'd be left with no real distractions to hold his attention during the ongoing lull aside from The Fear's nonsensical tales. He shook the vial, slipped it into the last holder and gave it a couple taps with a fingertip to secure it snugly in place. "How foreboding," he commented, and began gathering the items scattered around the table to put them back into their proper compartments within the suitcase.
"Deeply," The Fear continued. "It's not long after that I actually get a glimpse of this mysterious hunter. Well over eight feet. Wide shoulders, bulging thighs, rippling arm muscles. The deepest blue eyes I've ever seen. Huge claws. Covered head to toe with the sleekest grey fur—"
The Pain swiveled his head to give The Fear a questioning look. "What?" He closed the suitcase and began quickly securing the locks. Painted on its top facing lid in black and yellow capital letters was a warning: PROPERTY OF THE PAIN! DO NOT OPEN UNDER PENALTY OF SEVERE PAIN! A crude rendition of a hornet flew next to the words.
"He was a werewolf, or something akin to it."
"That's not—Wait, a minute." The Pain cast a knowing look at The Fear, a sneaking suspicion in his tone. "This isn't one of those stories that's eventually going to turn into some sort of fantasy of yours with an erotic twist, is it?"
The Fear let out a brief scandalized noise and shook his head. "Of course not! I can't believe you still...ah. Anyway. He's this massive muscular hairy beast-man, and I can tell how badly he wants me—" A grumble of annoyed disappointment rose up in The Pain's throat, causing The Fear to quickly and loudly clarify, "—as prey! Prey," putting a finger in the air for emphasis.
The Pain folded his arms and continued to listen though clear disinterest budded behind his eyes. A handful of hornets buzzed overhead.
"He stalks me throughout the wilderness. My sense of impending doom increases with the fading light. I fire everything I've got at him, but he seems to have supernatural evasive techniques. I can't manage a single hit on him." The apple crunched. "No matter what I do, I cannot stop his advance." The Fear's tone remained sufficiently eerie to go with the retelling of his harrowing subconscious adventure, despite the apple mush churning in his mouth. "He chases me into a clearing. I've got nowhere else to go. Nowhere to hide. Helpless." He paused only briefly enough to swallow the bite, then lowered his voice to a sinister husk. "His towering form looms over me, drooling jaws just inches from my neck. His claws tear at my clothes, ripping them away, and I—"
The Pain let out a soft groan. "I knew that's where this was going."
"No, wait," The Fear insisted, flipping himself onto his stomach, reaching out a desperate hand towards The Pain, though the smile on his face seemed to betray his intentions of pacifying the man's suspicions. "You didn't let me finish! It's not like that, I swear." He quickly flipped himself into a seated position.
"I'll bet." Several hornets crawled across The Pain's shoulders, as if they were content to hear the story's end. "Go on," he said, gesturing.
"He tears open my clothing and the flesh beneath, and I expect to witness heaping handfuls of my own intestines, but I look down and...there are lovely wildflowers and butterflies spilling out of me." He splayed his hands out in front of his stomach. "Beautiful flowers and small fragile butterflies. Pouring out in place of blood and organs." He stared at The Pain, a crooked smile on his lips.
Not only his eyes but The Pain's entire face displayed a distinct and tangible confusion from beneath his balaclava.
The Fear took the time to devour his apple core, watching The Pain's gears spin uselessly.
"What does any of that mean?" The Pain finally asked, completely at a loss.
The Fear's tongue snaked out of his mouth to lap away the remaining juices that coated his hands. He shrugged. "How should I know? It was a dream."
Sighing with annoyance, The Pain shook his head. "Well? Then what happened?"
The Fear shrugged again, pulling out his gloves. "I dunno. I woke up after that part."
"Bah! Why'd you even tell me any of that depraved nonsense?"
"Because, you listened. You're the only one who listens to my depraved nonsense." The Fear let out a twisted laugh.
"One day I'll have to remind myself to stop," The Pain groaned.
"Okay, your turn."
"Huh?"
"Tell me about an odd dream of yours." The Fear made a beckoning motion with his fingers, his reptilian eyes gleaming with mischievous energy. "Or preferably, a nightmare."
The Pain waved a dismissive hand. "No way."
"Oh, come on," The Fear said poutily as he leaned deeper against the sofa, draping his arms over the back. "I shared mine with you."
"You told me that gibberish unsolicited. I didn't even want to hear it."
"Then why'd you keep listening?"
"Because I—Why do you want to grope around in my subconscious anyway?"
"Entertainment value, mostly," The Fear admitted. His eyes followed a wandering hornet buzzing by. "I love listening to the dreams of others. It's quite revealing. Like watching someone draw or paint. Nightmares are even better. Fears are practically a window into a person's soul, after all." He flicked out his tongue, eyes flashing with excitement.
"Well, you're out of luck on that. My dreams are filled with bleak inescapable torments the likes of which you cannot possibly imagine," The Pain said with all the theatricality of a trained performer, "but I, The Pain, do not have nightmares."
Fear gave him an incredulous look. "Everyone has nightmares."
"Not me," The Pain asserted.
As if to second The Fear's sentiments, the backpack which contained The Pain's precious queen, seated on a chair of its own adjacent to the work table, began emitting a loud buzz.
The Fear stared at the backpack with interest. "Oh? It would seem that someone begs to differ."
The hornets gathered on the wall buzzed and quivered in response, creating small ripples among them.
"Gah!" The Pain rushed over to console the contents of the backpack, going down on one knee next to the chair. "She doesn't like that word," he said, his voice a gravely whisper.
The Fear produced a small laugh, resting his hands on his hips. "Seems that even hornets can have nightmares, eh?"
Her Royal Highness buzzed beligerantly from inside her chambers. The Pain gripped the backpack and showered it with affectionate pats and rubs, trying and failing to assuage the occupant within, all to The Fear's growing entertainment. "Now, now, Celine. Everything's fine," he whispered.
"Maybe she wants to get something off her chest? Er, thorax."
"No she doesn't." The nervous laugh attached to his words giving him away. Celine gave an abrupt, angry buzz.
"Surely she does, since there's no way someone of your masterful resilience to all forms of pain would ever admit to having a full blown, scream out loud like a little girl, wake up covered in sweat flailing in your bed until you accidentally knock Her Royal Highness off the bedside table type of...nightmare." The amusement The Fear's voice was palpable. He placed a hand to the side of his face in fake shock. "After all, for someone who doesn't scare easily, a nightmare strong enough to rattle The Pain's bones and make him scream that sharp would have to be a real doozy."
The Pain flinched, gasped, switching his line of vision quickly between The Fear and the backpack. He gave the backpack a wounded look. "Celine, how could you rat me out like that?" he whined melodramatically. The backpack buzzed at him.
The Fear broke into a short burst of satisfied laughter. "I knew it! Explains why your hornets were all discombobulated over the course of that one week, too. Nice scream, by the way. Expertly falsetto."
The Pain frowned at him. "Figures you'd be the one to find out. Maybe you should sleep more often."
"What can I say? You can't hide fear from an expert in the subject," The Fear said proudly. "And I'm a light sleeper to begin with."
The Pain sighed. "Celine was so angry, I thought she would never forgive me. And she's still holding a grudge against that word."
"So now that you're exposed, go on and tell Dr. Fear all about it." He clasped his hands behind his back and walked over to the sofa.
"It's too strange." The Pain picked up his backpack and sat down in the chair with it in his lap, petting it tenderly. "I don't want to remember it anyway." His gaze averted to the distant wall.
The Fear's tongue slithered out as if tasting the air as he glanced over his shoulder at The Pain. "But you must. You're secretly compelled to."
"And where are you getting that from?" asked The Pain, sounding sarcastically intrigued, head tilted a fraction.
"Your eyes." The Fear pointed a finger at him, enjoying the man's accompanying look of growing concern. "It's the split-second of delicious fear visible in them when you deny wanting to tell me about this nightmare."
The Pain grumbled. "That just sounds like one of your psychological trickery techniques."
"See? You did it again."
"What? Did not."
"Yes you did. You keep doing it."
"Gah! I did not, you're making that up to mess with me."
The Fear chuckled softly. "Am I? Either way, you're responding exactly how I want." He broke into a cartwheel and stopped in a handstand, staring at The Pain while flicking his tongue playfully. "You're in my web, and you don't even realize. Now tell me about that blood-curdling nightmare to purge yourself of the fear hidden within."
"No, I can't," The Pain insisted, a nervous edge in his voice.
"Of course you can't. The fear inside you is turning your poor mind into a prison. You'll never be able to open up and free yourself."
The Pain hunched over his backpack like a vulture over a fresh carcass. Celine errupted into another short, harsh burst of buzzing from inside. He covered the backpack with his hands, as if that would somehow muffle her intensely audible displeasure. "This is some sort of reverse psychology to get me to do what you want."
The Fear flipped back to his feet and folded his arms tightly. "No, reverse psychology wouldn't work on someone like yourself."
"Exactly, I—Wait...that means it does work on someone like me," The Pain quickly surmised, eyes wide, drawing a snicker from his interrogator.
"Give it up already," The Fear coaxed.
Celine buzzed in agreement.
"Oh, fine, if it's going to go on like this, I'd rather confess," The Pain lamented. "I know you're just going to laugh."
"No I won't," The Fear said, trying to look as innocent as possible.
The Pain sighed deeply. "Alright. Well. Uh...It starts out in a hive. A gigantic, human sized hive. It's more like a palace, actually. A most royal of palaces. Everyone there is humanoid hornets, including myself." He placed a hand to his chest and stated rather proudly, "And I have been selected as the hive's newest queen."
The Fear caught a soft chuckle before it escaped his throat and instead pretended he needed to clear it as cover.
"In celebration of my royal coronation," The Pain continued on, "a legion of adorable little larvae children dressed all in white and ruffled lace come out to dance."
"Cute," said The Fear. "What's the unsettling part? Did you get a rip in your gown in front of everyone or something?"
"I'm getting to it," The Pain said with a touch of annoyance. "Anyway. Everything is going well. The atmosphere is otherwise strangely delightful. There is much dancing and feasting. Until..."
From within the backpack, Celine buzzed. The swarm gathered on the wall and ceiling came to life, filling the room with the monotonous hum of their wings.
"Until?" The Fear repeated eagerly.
"Until," The Pain's voice lowered, his gaze haunted and distant, "there's a huge earthquake. A hive quake. Something's shaking the hive. Bashing at it from the outside. Everyone's scrabbling for purchase. Falling down, flying around in confusion. No one knows what's going on, other than we're under attack. A huge attack! And that's when...that's when..."
"Yes, yes?" The Fear encouraged impatiently, biting a gloved fingertip.
"The ceiling, the walls—everything collapses. No, it's being ripped apart. Our beautiful hive kingdom is being torn open by the beak of a colossal bird!" The Pain clutched the backpack to his chest. "It busts its gigantic head inside, looks around with its crazed green eyes, and then...then...it begins snatching up the children in its beak. Gobbling them alive as they scream." He placed a hand to his forehead. "And there's nothing anyone can do to stop it. Attacking the creature is futile, it just shakes us off and continues eating. It's like its feathers are made of armor. Our collective weapons cannot pierce through them. And the poor children. I can only watch in unbearable horror as they're all devoured." He sighed. "That's why I woke up the way I did. There, satisfied now?"
The Pain whipped his head around to stare at The Fear, who was struggling valiantly to contain his laughter. "I knew you would laugh!" He thrust his finger at him accusingly.
"I'm sorry," The Fear said through the subsiding chuckles, "it's just that, it's such bizarre imagery. I keep getting a mental picture of you trying to fight off a big turkey in a royal ballgown."
"Bizarre imagery? Says the guy who has recurring dreams about hairy muscular beast-men chasing him down and tearing off his clothing. And it wasn't a turkey. I think it was a honey buzzard."
"Hey, I only have those dreams occasionally and that was the one time it didn't end in an erotic twist."
The Pain let out another deep sigh, slumping in the chair. "Ugh, why are we even talking about this kind of thing? You're right about the lack of sleep overlapping with insanity. I think we're both going nuts."
The Fear laughed again. "Going?"
They paused, their attention drawn to the sluggish footsteps coming down the hall towards the Rec Room. Only one member of the Cobras walked with that gait, at least outside of battle when he wasn't lugging around a customized flamethrower.
The Fury entered the room and stopped a few feet in, taking notice of the stray hornets flying here and there. He wore regular boots, but was clad in his black and red patterned sleeping fatigues and a grey tank top. Tired eyes moved between The Fear and The Pain, his partial eyebrows knitting together in anticipation of their familiar annoying hijinks.
"Oh, it's you," he acknowledged before mumbling a quiet and barely intelligible rant. "Damn, could've been anyone else but it had to be...Don't they ever sleep? I swear, it's always them doing some damn dumb thing in the middle of the..." Trailing off, he walked to the armchair situated in a lonesome corner and flopped himself down heavily.
The Fear and The Pain exchanged glances before huddling in close.
"He looks a little worse for wear," The Pain said in a voice just above a whisper.
"I'll say," The Fear mimicked him, his voice somehow softer. "And he's giving off the distinct scent of my favored emotion." He rubbed his hands together. "Must've had a troubled sleep. Maybe I can pry the sordid details out of him."
"No, no." The Pain shook his head. "We shouldn't mess with him, especially when he's already in a bad mood. You know how he gets. I don't know about you, but I don't want to have my bed set on fire again."
"What're you two conspiring about over there?" The Fury grumbled.
"Nothing. Nothing at all," The Fear said. Beside him, The Pain nodded.
From The Fury's expression, though somewhat hidden in the shadows, he obviously doubted their sincerity. "Well if you two are going to be weird and irritating, at least do it somewhere else. I'm trying to get some peace and quiet, and I don't need any background commentary from the peanut gallery." With that, he closed his eyes and relaxed into the chair.
The Pain and The Fear exchanged more glances.
A long stretch of silence passed. The Fury mistakenly believed the two had given him the courtesy of their absense, until he opened his eyes and found himself staring at The Fear, leaning in uncomfortably close to observe him. Startled, he jumped in the chair slightly, grasping the arms.
"Hey! What're you doing? I thought I told you I didn't want to be bothered," he growled, his icey blue eyes burning with intensity despite being half lidded from barely concealed exhaustion. "That's not code speak for come bother me twice as hard."
"You seem perturbed," said The Fear, straightening himself up out of The Fury's swinging range. "Not quite yourself."
"Perturbed?" The Fury repeated, growing more annoyed. "I'm just a little tired. That's all. Now leave me alone. I'm trying to relax."
"Definitely off," The Fear insisted, rubbing a finger to his lip. "You're far less...far less...hmmm."
"Furious?" suggested The Pain.
"Yes," The Fear hissed, "that's it."
"I am not." The Fury's wrathful gusto was curiously absent. "If you really want to see my rage, keep up your annoying shenanigans."
The Fear nodded solemnly. "Uh huh. Something is definitely amiss. You would've chased us out of the room and broken at least one chair already."
"His pilot light's gone out," said The Pain.
"We're going to have to rename him from The Fury to The Mildly Tempermental," The Fear whispered over the back of his hand to The Pain, who gave a small suppressed laugh.
"I can still hear you jackasses, you know," said The Fury. "I told you, I'm just...tired."
The Fear clasped his hands behind his back. "Something disturb your beauty sleep? A nightmare, perhaps?"
"Of course not. I don't have those," The Fury said bluntly. "What do you think I am? A baby?"
The Fear and The Pain once again exchanged glances, The Fear smiling and The Pain frowning.
"I've heard that one before," said The Fear, a smug grin on his face.
He strolled over and cautiously reached out a finger toward The Fury. The Fury rarely allowed anyone but The Joy to lay their hands on him, especially when he was in such a mood. The Fear's finger made it all the way to The Fury's chest and administered a light poke.
The only response from the man was a tired, weak growl and a pathetic, borderline pleading, "Knock it off already, damn it."
The Pain placed a few fingers to his chin. "Oh. This is concerning. He should've torn your arm from the socket and beaten you with it by now. He's really out of it, isn't he?"
"It's worse than we thought, Pain. He's gone soft and mushy." The Fear put his fists to the side of his face, speaking in a childlike voice, "Probably been dreaming of kittens and puppies bumbling through fields of cotton candy, lollipops, and pretty silk ribbons."
"That is not what I dream of," The Fury snarled, and made an effort of lunging from his seat to grab at The Fear who simply dodged away with a smirk. "If you don't knock it the hell off, I'm gonna throttle you." He mumbled an additional, "After I get a night's sleep, anyway," and sank back into the chair limply, having spent what energy he was holding onto on the attempted revenge strike.
"Shame. He doesn't even have it in him to grab me and tie me in a knot." The Fear shook his head sadly, looking pondersome. "As fun as this is, I do feel for our fellow Cobra here. He seems to be suffering from an accute case of insomnia due to," he raised his voice slightly, the whites of his eyes showing, "irrational sleep disturbances."
"Is that the fancy way of saying a nightmare?" asked The Pain.
"Uh huh."
"Will you two shut the hell up already with this ridiculousness? I did not have a bad dream that's preventing me from going back to bed and that is not the reason I'm here sitting in this chair right now," The Fury said aggressively.
"Hm. Specific sort of denial," The Fear said under his breath, brow raised.
"You do look like you've been tossing and turning for hours," said The Pain. "It sometimes helps to discuss things with other people. Do you want to get something off your chest, Fury?"
"Yeah, tell us about the bad dream that you obviously didn't have," The Fear encouraged.
The Fury sank deeper into the chair. "No! It had nothing to do with my dreams, I tell you. Uh. There was a draft in my room. That's why I couldn't sleep. Yeah. It was too cold."
The Pain glanced around and then back to The Fury. "It's not exactly warm in here either."
"So? Who cares? I just wanted to be in this particular room, okay? Am I not allowed?"
"You're being awfully defensive," The Fear added gleefully.
The Fury hunched up. "I am not being defensive."
The Fear silently mouthed "Yes you are."
"I saw that," The Fury spat.
"We're only trying to help, Fury," The Pain said. He quickly leaned over to The Fear and asked in a lower voice, "We are trying to help him, aren't we?"
"Yes," The Fear said, eyes lidded.
The Fury sent them an inferno in the form of a glare. "You can help me by leaving." A hornet flew past his head, making him lean away defensively. "And take your damn bees with you."
"Hornets," The Pain said.
"Come on, Fury. I practically smelled fear wafting off you when you walked in." The Fear's tongue darted out of his mouth. He dropped down and sat on his haunches, tilting his head up at him. "You're spooked. You can't sleep because you've got it running through your veins. Like ice water." The Fear made sure to hang his hiss on the word ice.
"Ugh, don't say...ice," The Fury groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Chilling you to the bone, bitter, like a frozen tundra—"
"Stop!" The Fury demanded, looking shaken.
The Fear shook his finger in the air. "Struck a nerve, eh? I think we've figured out the problem. Our friend here's got cold feet."
"You weren't dreaming about battling armies of snow men, were you?" The Pain asked, trying not to chuckle. "Or getting trapped in an igloo."
The Fury grabbed his head, massaging his temples with his thumbs. "No," he said, opening his eyes and staring angrily at his fellow Cobras. "I thought you idiots said you were trying to help me. Prying into my dreams is the last thing I need right now."
"More like the best thing," The Fear said. "And I'm the best Cobra you could've run into at this pitiful hour. In case you forgot, fear is my speciality. Just tell your good pal The Fear what chilling subconscious experience you had that's keeping you awake."
The Fury sank himself deeper into the chair, looking more disgruntled than ever. "Why? So you can laugh at me?"
The Fear and The Pain looked at each other, then back at The Fury.
"Of course not, why would we do that? No, no, no, we would never," they spoke over each other.
The Fury responded with a tired, aggravated grumble.
"Come on," The Fear coaxed. "Are you not feeling compelled to release your inner demons? To exile all those itty bitty frightlets running up and down your spine, making it so very hard to concentrate on what you need to accomplish? To purge those cold, cruel whisps of lingering fear so that you can get a good night's sleep?" The Fear glanced at the clock. "What's left of the night, anyway."
"It feels so...alien. So slippery and, and..." The Fury struggled to properly describe it, waving his hand for the right words to come. None of them were pleasant. "Repulsive!" A shudder went through him. "This fear. I can feel its remnants still crawling through me. Burrowing around like a parasite in my mind—no, more like in the darkest recesses of my fiery soul."
The Fear and The Pain once more exchanged glances, enjoying the spectacle.
"I now understand why you're so animalistic," he continued, pointing at The Fear. "This feeling, this emotion, is unlike any I've felt before. If I'm forced to keep enduring this, I'll be driven mad. I'll be driven right up the wall!"
"Ah, but it'll be nice to have some company up there," The Fear said gesturing at the ceiling.
The Fury looked unamused. "Damn it, Fear. This is serious. Fear is your thing, not mine. If I don't get this stuff out of me, I'll never sleep again!"
"Then it's good that we're here to listen. Go on, tell us," The Fear encouraged.
"Yes, tell us about it, Fury," The Pain seconded. "We're all ears."
"Well...I've no other choice, I suppose."
The Fear and The Pain nodded eagerly.
Closing his eyes, The Fury let out a sigh. "It starts with my triumphant return from outer space. See, I'd always dreamed of being a cosmonaut, ever since I was young, and...well. Anyway, I'd gotten my wish, and was returning to Earth. Safely—or so I thought." He sank deeper into the chair, his expression growing pained. "Somehow, I'm knocked off course. Far, far off course. I end up crash landing in...the Antarctic. Nothing but snow and ice far as the eye can see. And the silence. The silence...it's deafening. I try the radio again and again, but there's no answer. I'm...alone. Alone and trapped and freezing. Nothing but cold and silence. Dead silence." The Fury gripped the arms of the chair more tightly. "Such a terrible feeling. I...I hate it. I just want to get out. To feel warmth again. I scream. I scream until my throat is sore. I must've scared myself awake. I woke up tangled in my covers and I fell out of the bed, onto the floor. The cold, cold floor. I guess the chill stayed with me." Looking slightly embarrassed, he loosened his grip and averted his gaze from the other Cobras. "I was walking around with my thoughts when I heard voices down the hall. That's why I came into the room. I just...well. I didn't want to be alone after that dream."
He opened his eyes and stared at The Fear and The Pain.
They stared back blankly, looked at each other, back at him, back at each other, then burst into uncontrolled laughter.
"Son of a bitch," The Fury growled, tightly crossing his arms, hunched with aggravation. "I knew you were going to do that!"
"Who's the baby now?" The Fear giggled into his hand.
The Pain, hands on his knees, fought to cease his laughter. "I'm sorry, Fury. We don't mean it, I swear. But Fear is right about dreams. Listening to other people's is rather strange. Sometimes it's hard to take seriously."
"He's right, unfortunately," The Fear said, trying to suppress his laughter. "One person's traumatic subconscious tale is another's comedy. It's a matter of perspective."
"Your perspective is about to be the floor," The Fury said. "Now get outta here, I gave you what you wanted. You pair of obnoxious gibbering lunatics."
"Well, do you feel any better after opening up about it?" asked The Pain.
The Fury hunched more deeply into the chair. "No."
"Come on, Fury. You've gotta be feeling a little warmed up by now, right?" The Fear placed his thumb and index finger a fraction apart. "Even a smidgen?"
"I know something that might restore my heat," The Fury said, a smile growing on his lips. "Pulling each one of your long, hairy spider legs off one by one."
With restored energy, he flung himself out of the armchair and rushed at The Fear, who let out a high squeal and jumped out of reach, landing on the sofa several feet away. The Fury pursued him as he tried to scramble away, grabbing one of his legs and pulling him back down onto the sofa. The Fear insisted his innocence, raising his hands up protectively, struggling not to laugh while The Fury held his arm in position for a punch. They squabbled loudly as The Pain looked on, an occasional hornet flying over to the wall nearest the sofa to get a better look at the action.
"I once had a nightmare that all the forests of Russia were rapidly dying, and I'd been tasked to hunt down and kill a demon that was sucking the life from them. But I kept getting lost deeper and deeper in the mighty forest as I hunted, the demon laughing all the while," came The End's voice from behind them, startling everyone. They turned to see him sitting comfortably in a chair with a glass of water in his hand. "Luckily, it turned into a pleasant dream just as I had almost given up and couldn't go any further. I suddenly found myself surrounded by many gorgeous wood nymphs who kept giving me little kisses and reinvigorating my morale." He took a sip from the glass. "Quite an amusing dream. Must've been a good thirty years ago, but I never forgot it."
"Sheesh. How long have you been there, old man?" The Fear asked.
"Long enough," was all The End answered. "You boys certainly have some vivid imaginations to have such interesting dreams. Very entertaining."
The rest of the Cobras exchanged glances with each other.
"This plague of insomnia is pretty bad if even The End is awake," The Pain said.
"Ah. Here you all are. Making such a ruckus."
Everyone turned their heads to see The Sorrow standing in the doorway.
The Fear squirmed away from The Fury's arm. The man grabbed him by the collar, though the arm readying the punch had since lowered. "Huh. Is everyone awake?"
"Seems that way," The Pain said.
"You couldn't sleep, either, Sorrow?" The Fury asked, finally taking his attention away from The Fear.
Sorrow shook his head. "Neither I nor The Joy could sleep. She decided to make some tea. I heard voices coming from down here, so I figured I'd ask if you wanted to join us."
"Tea? Hot tea? That'll work to get some warmth back in me," The Fury exclaimed, releasing The Fear's collar. The Fear dropped back onto the sofa, tongue lolling out of his mouth. The Fury raced to the door and past The Sorrow, giving the man a passing slap on the back that nearly knocked him against the wall. "Thanks, Sorrow!" his voice called from down the hall.
Running a hand through his displaced hair and brushing it from his eyes, The Sorrow looked up at the clock. 4AM. "Guess everyone's having trouble sleeping."
"Guess so," said The Pain. He picked up his backpack and slipped it on, then fetched his suitcase of pheromones and accessories. He exited past The Sorrow with his swarm and The Fear close behind. "Tea actually sounds good right about now. With some milk and sugar."
"I want mine with honey," The Fear said cheerily, running on all fours down the hallway.
The Sorrow turned to look at the last one in the room. "End? Any tea for you?"
The End raised his glass. "No thank you. I'm quite content with plain old water."
The Sorrow, with his perpetual smile, exited, leaving the room finally silent except for the ticking of the clock.