Do you still remember what you promised me?

I saw you looking when I came in. You were standing next to Destro, like you always do; clinging to him like a barnacle. I barely gave you more than a glance, but in the back of my mind, I thought of the early days. I would literally kill to relive those times right now.

Once it was me at the top, and you were there, too-not beside me, not right next to the chair, but close enough. I trusted you as much as I could trust anyone back then.

Now he sits in the chair and you stand with him, as if the past never happened.

That day in the war room he was angry and ridiculously imperious as ever. I couldn't help but clench my hands into fists, so hard that I could hear the leather of the gloves crackle as the material ground together. I hated you so much right then; the way you stood close to that arms dealer, how you tossed your hair-bored, distracted, like the routine of watching me being taken down another peg was already something you'd gotten tired with. But that's what you wanted, isn't it? And you've moved on already? I'm starting to notice a pattern here.

Yes, my dear, you're already bored, but I don't have that luxury.

He started into the usual tirade, and I took it. That's the deal I made. You all think I surrendered to him because I'm weak. What you don't know is that surrender was the best option; unlike the rest of you, I'm practical and I can play the waiting game. I'm not weak; just biding my time, because sooner or later one of you will mess up-you always do-and then I'll be there. He needs a scapegoat for when things don't work out in his favor, and who better than somebody you already hate? I take the blame and pretend I'm the idiot in the room. One day I'll steal everything back and he'll be too busy posturing to see it when it happens.

If you'll allow me a rather obvious metaphor, I'm not the de-fanged cobra you all think I am—instead, I'm the snake in the grass. It's true that usually I broadcast my emotions a little too freely, that I'm impulsive, and reckless, and near-sighted, but at times like these I can creep around and bide my time, too; just like you all did.

You'll still be alive when he's thrown down, not because I'll forgive you but because I want you to see who the real boss always was. When he's no longer there to protect you, you'll fall back in line and I can't wait to see it.

But, I'm letting my thoughts get away from me as usual. I need to stick to the the facts of what happened.

I stopped in front of him and my stomach churned as I looked down at the floor. I felt like throwing up—not out of simple fear so much as dread. I hate to say it, but that's what I feel when I see him-dread that poisons my guts. It's always boiling away in my stomach no matter where I go. Half the time I don't even give it full attention anymore. You lot aren't afraid of him because you're fools. All of you literally created a monster. Why don't you people realize what you've done?

"Once again, you're an idiot fool and a disgrace to us all," he said. You know, the usual stuff. His voice was as needlessly booming as always. Just a brute, I had to remind myself. But of course he's more than that-I hate to admit it, but he's just as smart as I am. That's probably why my coup has taken so long. And of course, the brute can tear me apart at any time, so I have to watch my step and pretend to be just another henchman. It's quite the tightrope you've set me on.

"What happened to Cobra Island?" he demanded-as if he didn't already know.

I had to grind my teeth for several seconds before I had the clarity of mind to answer. "There was a surprise attack," I said finally.

"A surprise attack?" he repeated, loud enough for any random passerby out in the hall to hear. Storm Shadow watched all this from the doorway and I could hear him shift slightly—maybe he was preparing to interfere, or maybe he was just aching to do so.

"My report says the enemy should have been detected hours before you finally realized they were on the island, 'Commander'," he said. He spoke my name-my designation, I mean-as if it were the most amusing thing. But I'm not the one dubbed after that idiot project.

"How is that possible?" he asked.

"They were well-hidden," I said shortly.

"Oh, really?" His voice almost dripped with sarcasm, and it was as gross as I'm making it sound. "Tell me exactly how you didn't detect a group of nearly twenty individuals creeping around an island that is completely under Cobra surveillance?"

That was a question I couldn't answer honestly, because the truth was that I had no defense. I wasn't actually on Cobra Island at the time of the attack-not at first, anyway. If I admitted to that, he might look into where I'd really been, and what I'd been doing there.

And then he'd kill me. And I'm very set against that, despite what jokes get passed around these days.

I had to deflect. "The enemy," I said, "has the whole of the United States government behind them. And twenty trained special-missions operatives on a large island are not as easy to spot as you seem to think."

"It was your sole job to protect Cobra Island while I was away!" he shouted back. I flinched-I couldn't help it. In my mind I called up the past times when he'd been angry enough to attack. I'm not a brawler, like him. He could throw me down easily, and he has. I forced myself to stand in place, to raise my gaze to meet his eyes.

"You talk of surveillance, but I recall you leaving me with little to work with," I said. Maybe it was reckless, but I wasn't going to take his abuse here-not after retreating from what originally was my island, and not with all of you watching. "The budget and resources you give me are lacking. The troops are never enough and the number of satellites monitoring the island was cut down! I was barely able to fight as long as I did. And you took most of the Crimson-"

"Excuses!" he said. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

This time I did step back, as he descended toward me. "You outnumbered them and you failed. You had the advantage and you failed. Would more troops have helped you or would you have failed them, too?"

He got so close I thought about running, or shoving against him-anything to push him back. His rage seemed to radiate off him like a heatwave. I probably shouldn't have antagonized him when he was already in a mood. By the time I decided it was best to go, he'd already grabbed the front of my jacket and shook me so hard my head flopped. It was all I could do to grab his forearms and wonder if I should get a punch in-at the moment, it almost seemed worth it. I held back instead. He can't hurt you, I reminded myself. He needs you.

"What is it going to take for you to do what is best for Cobra?" he demanded. His breath fogged on my visor, and for a moment he was just a blur. "What am I going to have to do to get you to take this job seriously? Remember that I allowed you to remain here, Commander-and you've yet to make me happy about it."

He let me go. I took that to mean that assuming the role of coward had been the right approach. People knock it, but it works.

"They have Cobra Island now," he said. "They have almost a third of our troops there and our technology. It's only because of my foresight that we were able to remote-deactivate most it, or this would be an even worse disaster."

I wanted to point out that when I was leader, they never took Cobra Island-and that when I was leader, I never would've made all the decisions that had led to this. I wanted to say a lot of things, but I settled for cursing him in my head.

Then I glanced up and saw you, staring at me, with the nerve to have a look of pity as your expression.

I could have screamed at you.

Instead I retreated from the war room, again in defeat, again wondering when I'd have my chance to challenge him the right way, or even if I'd still be a commander at all after this.

Once I'd been the one to look at you with pity. Back then, you were a cast-down thing, bedraggled and confused, drifted from one port to another across the world. Your family name had been dragged into nothing; your life was one angry protest after another, just scenes of college campus revolts, minor extremist rallies, and pointless crimes-all that defined your life until you met me. I offered you what you really wanted, and that was the power to change the world around you-to redetermine your fate.

All I asked for in return was some loyalty. I gave you everything and only asked for one thing.

And then Destro romanced you away. I'm not of noble birth, but I sweated for everything you took away from me. I still hold on, even though all of you step on my fingers and wait for me to let go. You say I'm just an unmanly peasant; that he's an honorable sort-as honorable as an arms dealer can be, is that it? Forgive me if I'm more honest about my ways than he is. A man who trades in death can't have honor, and you're fooling yourself to see any real virtue in him. One day, you'll regret that you never noticed what was always there.

But I'm digressing-again. I keep letting my thoughts carry me off to old times, keep letting them linger on resentments I can't do anything about right now. Right now the present is unbearable, the future is vague, and only the past has any clarity left-too late to do anything useful, of course, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty, or whatever you say when you you can't go back and do things right.

Anyway, I don't remember much else of what happened. Storm Shadow followed me to a safer place, a wing of the manor where I could almost let my guard down. We slipped into one of the ancient guest rooms and its attached apartments that had been relegated to me. Doors locked, he watched the outside from the window while I checked myself over.

At times like these, I'm grateful for Storm Shadow. Even if he has his own reasons for being here, he serves without hesitation and without deception. I should've appreciated that before everything fell down around me. Now I don't know what I'd do without him around. It's only because of Storm Shadow that I can sleep at night. I've never encountered a direct threat from him, but sometimes Storm Shadow hears whispers, or catches shadows. Nothing concrete, maybe just typical nosy spies; who knows? But no one can match my protector. I chose well there, at least.

I sit down, cloth mask now in place, because I don't even let Tommy see me anymore, and I think about the first time I saw you. You were pathetic, hair in tangled strands, crying, though you said it was just the rain. Since it was raining, I pulled you under my coat and we walked together. As we talked, I promised you great things, and I meant them, because I meant to have great things for myself. And I asked you to share it all with me. You said you'd follow me anywhere, but now you have a will of your own.

But you promised me.

You promised.

END

Continuity note: The setting for this is roughly after Season Two; the animated film is too off-kilter in its facts to logically be considered canon. Therefore, the seasons that followed also have to be discarded (though seeing the Commander re-assume control was satisfying, it's apparently an AU). If Resolute was a sort of send-up and self-contained sequel to the old show, it raises a few canon questions: how did Cobra Commander reassert himself; what happened to Serpentor; why was Cobra Island vacant? (There are other questions as well, about Dial-Tone being female, Mindbender's absence, etc. I have a few ideas, but who knows?)