>You toss and turn on your bunk, unable to sleep
>It feels as though a thousand hot needles are piercing your eyes
>An incessant ache forms under your skin
>To top off the list of your nocturnal discomforts, your entire body is itching
>You can't find a comfortable way to sleep
>As it is, you are stuck in the weird limbo between wakefulness and slumber
>You can't wake up either
>You continue to toss in your sweat dampened sheets

>Suddenly, a noise approaches in the hallway
>It's the night guard making their rounds throughout the cell block
>Fuck, if a guard caught you having sleep troubles you would never see the end of it
>Concerned looks
>Worried glances
>Special treatment
>Warm milk before bed
>The persona you had crafted could be shattered completely
>You roll over and face the wall, willing your breathing to slow

>The echoing hoofsteps stop just outside your door
>If you weren't sweating before, you certainly are now
>Just fuck off will you?
>There's probably some stallion who had night terrors somewhere
>Go find him and leave me alone
>Your inner dialogue goes unheard in the still prison air

>You hear a gentle tap on your door
>Fuck
>When you say nothing, the door opens just a crack
>Double fuck
>"Anon?"
>The gentle voice doesn't cut the air, it is carried softly to your ears
>Of all the guards to be stationed in your cell tonight, this was the worst possible one
>It had been mere hours since you last saw Cookie
>She had left your cell with a dopey smile on her face and a slight wobble to her step
>"Anon."
>This time there is no question
>"I know you're awake, Anon. You never sleep with your back to the door."
>You can barely hear her soft voice
>With a sigh she pads gently into the room
>"I uh... I brought you something."
>Just great, it begins
>You roll over and glare at the intrusive mare who flinches back
>You must look a sight right now
>Eyes bloodshot
>Hair crazed by tossing and agitated hands
>A facial expression that looks worse than your mother after a Jaeger Bomb
>The mare visibly steels herself
>"Trouble sleeping, big guy?"
>No shit
>You say nothing

>She tries again
>"You wanna talk about something, Anon?"
>You roll over and face the wall again, willing yourself to just pass out
>Really not in the mood for this shit
>The cream coloured mare sighs again and you here the clink of something being placed on the small coffee table in your cell
>"Look, Anon. You can tell me what's eating you so I can help or I can sit here all night reading you bedtime stories from the library
>Ohshit.jpg
>You roll back over and fix the defiant mare with the meanest glare you can muster at two in the morning
"You wouldn't dare."
>To her credit, Cream stands tall matching you glare for caring gaze
>And just like that, you know you can't win
>This mare holds the better hand
>Hell, she holds the whole fucking deck right now
>You try to start slow
"I can't sleep."
>Your voice sounds like it got run through a wood-chipper
>Cookie just smiles softly, nods and approaches your bed
>"I thought that's what I heard. I brought you something, if you think it will help. Warm milk always knocks me right out."
"No thanks, Cookie. It's just never done the trick for me. My mum used to try it all the time, to get me to go to bed."
>Cookie must have noticed something because she sits down on the edge of your bed and hovers a hoof over your arm
>You don't move your arm away
>Cookie smiles and lays a hoof on your shoulder, rubbing it in small circles
>"Is something bothering you, Anon? Anything you want to talk about. You can talk to me about anything."
>Here it is, the moment of truth, the point of no return
>Hell, that was five minutes ago
>You should have just told her to leave
>It's too late now
>Was it always too late?
>Could you have prevented this?
>You make up your mind to talk to Cookie
>But you sure as fuck don't want any of the mooks in your cellblock to hear
"Hey, uh... Cookie? Could you close the door? Please?"
>The mare gets up and you almost call her back
>The lack of contact with something feels like you pulled a piece of your body off
>The door shuts with a muted click and the presence returns to your side, somehow managing to find the exact position she left
>"I'm listening, Anon."
>Her soft voice fills your room and you feel another hoof join the first in soothing your fevered skin
"I don't know how to start."
>"Anywhere, Anon. Just start anywhere."
"And nothing leaves this room."
>"Of course not, Anon."
>You're stalling now
>The mare just continues to smile at you, rubbing her hooves in small circles across your arms

"Fuck, I don't know."
>Cream doesn't stop, even at your expletive
>Most ponies would be questioning there faith in a God at that
>"Why don't you tell me about where you grew up?"
"Well um, I grew up on this little planet called Earth. It's not very big, and it's not very interesting."
>"Tell me about Earth, Anon."
"It's a blue planet, covered in water almost. It has trees and animals and everything like that. Some places are cool, most aren't."
>"What did you like about Earth, Anon?"
"It was home? I guess? Hard not to like your own house..."
>The mare gently pushes you over so that you are facing the wall
>A hoof starts to rub your back
>"How do you feel about moving to Equestria?"
"I don't like it Cookie. Everything is wrong."
>"What's wrong with Equestria, Anon?"
>She starts to hum wordlessly into your ear 

"Nothing is wrong here, Cookie. That's what's wrong. Everything knows what it's supposed to do. Everything just magically works out like there was some fucking moral to the day's story."
>She pauses in her humming to rearrange herself behind you
>You are barely cognizant of the fact that you are now being spooned by a little horse
"I have to pretend to be some kind of badass because I don't want to like it here."
>Her humming changes tempo and she goes to work on your neck
"I don't want to feel like I'm part of this gay rainbow of happiness."
>Now you've done it
>You've started admitting your problems
>Next thing you know, you'll be crying into some mare's shoulder while she shushes you and tells you that you're going to make it
"Problem is, now I'm stuck in a place where everything treats me like a walking nuke and no one likes me for me."
>Cookie's humming tapers off
>"I like you, Anon."
"Thanks Cookie. I like you too."
>The cell returns to silence, broken only by the rustling of Cookie as she rocks you gently
>Your eyes start to feel heavy

>"Anon?"
"Yeah?"
>"Why don't you try to work real you into your schedule?"
"What do I get out of it?"
>"Make me a proposal Anon."
>You think for a few seconds, working out the free points in your weekly routine
"I have an hour in the afternoon every Sunday and Friday."
>"That'll get you a cuddle after every one of our sessions."
"Throw in a snuggle before bed."
>"Add five minutes of Ear-Scratchies to the daily session and you've got a deal."
"Done."
>YOu clasp at the hoof that's wrapped around your shoulder and shake gently
>The deal done, you feel your eyelids getting heavy again
>"Good night, Anonymous."
>You fall asleep to the gentle ministrations of Cookie, her humming in your ears