Three years... Three years had passed and his life had seemed to become so dull and... normal? No, not normal. It had become lonesome. He, a once proud master thief with everything. Money, friends, and even the woman who had shackles on his heart by his side. At least... that's how it was after they returned to their time after saving the Cooper family line. It all went down hill from there.
The gang had split up, as well as Sly's relationship with Inspector Carmelita. Sly had sworn off crime for his relationship, so the guys barely got together after that. Murray had joined an official racing circuit, making a name and living for himself while Bentley went on to build his own research and development company, creating appliances and gadgets for everyday people. Even Carmelita became caught up in her career. But what about sly?
Sly and Carmelita had finally settled down. He had given up his mask and the two moved to the big apple to start anew. They started out happy, finally being able to be together until Carmelita's work became a problem. She traveled the world and was more-often-than-not able to even call Sly. He worried about her, wondering if she would make it back to their comfy apartment.
When the vixen would return, it would only be from a day to barely a week before she was right back on a plane. He wondered if he could join Interpol as an agent, but he figured that it would be too risky. He then thought about dawning his mask to just follow her around in case she needed her masked hero? No, that would be going back on his promise, and he couldn't hurt her again.
-BACK TO THE PRESENT-
Sly looked out at the carnival lights and the dark ocean as the moonlight shimmered atop the surface. "Such a beautiful night to be alone..." He thought to himself and sighed. It would be so easy to end this ache in his chest. Years of running, stealing, and fighting, all coming to an end if he just slipped off the ledge he was sitting on. But, no. That would be too easy for him.
Sly had moved out of Carmelita's apartment and left her a voicemail saying that although he loved her, the rush of the chase had disappeared, and living a normal life wasn't his style. He didn't intend to slide back on his word, so he set off into the dark city streets with only a backpack and the clothes on his back.
He eventually set himself up in a cheap but nice little apartment overlooking the Coney Island. The raccoon even managed to get a job as an acrobat, teaching gymnastics during the day and then working as an entertainer during the night at the carnival. It kept him content for a while.
It was strange. He had lost everything as a boy, built a fortune and infamy later, and now... now he was felt as though it had all slipped through his fingers again. His friends were all using their skills to be happy and make a living while he was just... living. He was only working to get by.
All that had happened led up to tonight. He looked over the ledge and let out a sigh. He then yelled out angrily and fell back, hitting his head on the rooftop. "I'm so pathetic for even thinking that!" He said as he began to sob.
He sucked up his pride and wiped away his tears, walking back down to the street and carrying himself to a pub down the street.
Tonight could have been the end, but he couldn't go through with suicide, it wasn't his style. "Looks like I'm just going to have to live with the decisions I've made." He muttered to himself as he sat at the bar. He then cracked a smirk and knocked back his first shot.