15

~~~Where God Went to Die~~~

The heat was just reaching Sly's face when he woke up, now extinct cold sweat leaving a dark silhouette under him. He could hardly see, but his breathing seemed to be fine, not that it helped much. His mind was just catching up with his eyesight, but his legs must have hated the idea. They felt like they were on fire, and judging by all the heat, Sly wouldn't be surprised if they were. Slowly, he stood up, clutching cane and holding his neck, scanning his environment. He was in a desert, surrounded by pyramids, blood, and flaming masses of blimp machinery. Any direction the raccoon looked, there was a great fire, catching the color and heat of the sand. Not too far from him, there was a corpse of a rat hunched over a large iron beam, both of which boasting magnificent flames. Sly knew that if he didn't find shelter from all the heat, he could find himself in that very same position.

He made out a large palm tree underneath a stature of a dog mounted atop a huge golden platform. Okay… Find shade, then focus on what the hell happened. Sly screamed in himself, forcing his legs to follow the plan. They shrieked nervous pain up his body, but Cooper ignored them. Dying was the last item on his bucket list.

A large boom sent heat and debris flying towards Sly, who had made little progress on his trek. Another part of the blimp had destroyed itself. Perhaps time was catching up with it. He knew he just had to find shade, then he'd be fine. His legs hurt more than before, the pain seeming to amplify. He felt the sweat rolling down his back slowly drop in frequency, as his body quickly lost optimism. His legs were dropping feeling, falling numb under all the pressure. Sly was panting, fighting for a breath of cold air as his entire figure trembled, ready to quit. He was only a good mile from the statue… only a good hour from the statue.

The last thing Sly felt before he collapsed in the sand was an overwhelming chill of regret. His only ice in an ocean of fire was self-loathe.

Soon, the raccoon woke in the presence of three others, one of which was holding a knife to his neck. The figures carried un-distinguishable features, with no voice or face to them. One was shouting in a foreign tongue, seeming to gesture at Sly, who wasn't even sure he was still alive. Before he could move, or make any noise beyond a groan, one of the figures grabbed him by his arm and yanked him out of what felt like a bed. The raccoon was dragged back out into the warm sun, blinding him even further. When his eyesight finally did clear, his fear came with it. Sly saw he was in a large village, carved out of bronze and stone, and that he was completely naked. His legs felt better, but he could feel wet bandages wrapped around them as the figure forced him to walk. Cooper finally found his nerve to speak up. "Uh… Hi?" He smiled at the figure, now clear enough to be seen as a large, bloody rhino. The rhino smacked him on the back of his head and snorted at him. He pointed forwards and started walking. Sly didn't disobey. After a little while of walking, the two arrive at a large stone temple, its cold grey color combating the rash aura of the village. The rhino points to the top of the stairs, where a black opening glared at them. Sly, not wanting to be hit again, ascended the stairs. He wasn't worried so much as to what lay inside the temple, but more to what the crowd gathering at the foot of the temple was thinking about a naked raccoon treading on their sacred stone city. Sly figured trying to shame himself would be cowardly, and that running away would be suicide, so he shrugged and kept climbing.

The temple wasn't too high up, but the wounds on Sly's legs helped it feel like a stairway to space. When he finally reached the top, starting to feel like he needed to black out again, he stood in the doorway of a huge room decorated in papers and ink scribbles. Sly almost grinned at how close it looked to Bentley's workshop back in Paris. Images of home weren't as comforting as Sly had hoped they'd be, but they helped. Only back in Paris, there was a turtle. Here, there was a huge owl, mumbling angrily as he sat over a wooden contraption. A wash of fear shook the debility from Sly's being, as despite the large open earth behind him, he suddenly felt trapped.

The owl looked up, seeming to sense the fear like it was an actual tangible force. He smiled, standing up from his kneel. He was huge, maybe eleven feet in stature, and muscular as all Muggshot. "Hello, young raccoon." His voice was thunderous, yet soft when he spoke in English. "You owe me a little respect boy," He spoke, motioning for Sly to enter further. "I did save you, after all." Sly nodded, and softly delved deeper into the room. "What do they call you, hmm?" The owl asked.

"My… My name?" Cooper asked, terrified.

The bird chuckled. "Yes, boy. Your name." He sighed, making eye contact with Sly. "For example, they call me Clockwerk. So, what do they call you?" Those words confirmed the horrid fear festering inside Sly's mind.

Chapter One

Egypt – 1320 BCE

The raccoon and the owl sat quietly in the room for a few moments, before Sly spoke back up. "Cyrille." The raccoon said at last. "Cyrille Le Paradox." He finished without effort, seeming to draw from a memory older than that of his recent adventure.

The owl let out a heartfelt laugh. "Paradox? Do you take me for a fool, Slytunkhamen?" He asked while his shoulders were still bouncing from laughter.

Cooper felt himself gulp. Does he know who I am? Does he… Slytunkhamen? A million thoughts stampeded through Cooper's mind then. He was standing in front of Clockwerk, the very same Clockwerk that almost succeeded in destroying his family, the very same Clockwerk that killed his father… the same Clockwerk that was supposed to be a robot. This was the version of him before all of that, the him before the machine. Maybe even before the monster.

The bird wasn't too bad looking; tall and muscular, few scars, bright yellow eyes, and a stunningly polished look to his wings, hidden poorly behind his back. If he were to spread them out to their full span, they would easily cramp the entire room. He wore a headdress, small but empowering, and a baggy pair of trousers, silky and red, as if they had come from a different land. Judging by Clockwerk's voice, Sly's theory of the owl's possible immigration was growing. A small smile was creeping across his beak, like a fisherman watching his bobber disappear under the water, but with more malice, like he was more excited for the opportunity to kill something rather than eat. The owl had the raccoon in his talons, all he had to do now, was choose when to squeeze.

"Answer me." He said in a rather upbeat tone, the perfect mask for the rage Sly saw manifesting in his eyes.

Sly was an impeccable thief, but he was a better liar. All fear drained from his body, letting his throat loosen up. "No. My name is Paradox."

The owl smiled wider, grinding his teeth as his eyes almost melted into a grim shade of red, raising a small alarm. "Cooper. You're a Cooper…" He voice was calm.

Sly looked him dead in the eyes, feeling the heat of the desert explode back into his lungs. "My name is Paradox. It always has been."

The owl sighed, his smile flushing away his mask as well as his rage. Clockwerk nodded slowly. "You don't sound like him… just… I apologize… I though you looked like…" Sadness replaced hatred in his glare, tears beginning to swell at the corners of his warm yellow eyes. "Forgive me, Cyrille was it? Well," His smile returned to it's former self, not trying to hide any heyday emotions.

"Where am I?" Sly asked unflinching.

Clockwerk's face was of a child then. He looked happy to answer the question, even offering the naked guest a seat. Sly didn't move. "Excuse me, I have not been polite. Welcome to Djesdjes! Our city made of bronze holds our hearts made of gold!" He reached out his arms to his sides, as if his people could see him. "I am their Mayor, Clockwerk. Please forgive my mess, I wasn't expecting a guest for another few- "

Sly scoffed loudly, still calm and vigilant for Clockwerk's true nature. "Guest? If this is how you treat your guests, I'd hate to see how the Pharaoh is welcomed."

Clockwerk looked confused. "Ah, well… yes, when they found you out there, they assumed you were Slyth… just a local thief, pay no mind to it." That hit a nerve in Sly's memory, sending him flashbacks to reading about his ancient ancestor, an Egyptian thief 'Slytunkhamen' and his mastery of stealth in the Thevious Raccoonus. Remembering that book triggered woes of his friends, and the macabre possibility that they might not have survived the blimp explosion. Before Sly could dwell on that thought, the owl spoke again. "That does provoke an apology on my behalf." He stood up. "Cyrille Le Paradox," He started, speaking this time with a thick Russian accent, like he was channeling another being to help him in atonement. "I must offer you my sincerest apologies for the way you have been treated, you were misjudged on my persons, and I hope you take conciliation in knowing that I shall cease my mistakes indefinitely."

The owl had finished his speech before gleaming warmly at Sly, dumbstruck as he was. Cooper had not expected the bird to be so… kooky. Here he was, the biggest nemesis to the Cooper lineage, giving a heartfelt apology for stripping and jailing a "guest." It all seemed like a fever dream, like Sly was still stuck out in the desert, and this was all some dehydrated nightmare. Clockwerk was supposed to be fierce, scary, and a monstrous stalker, not some Russian-Egyptian mayor who tinkered with twigs for fun.

Sly nodded. "Uh… it's cool, man." He choked, nervous about picking up the conversation. "Hey, uh… do you think I could get like a loincloth or, like, a- "

Clockwerk clapped his hands. "Ah! I owe you another apology, I seem to have forgotten!" He laughed, before inhaling. Sly cut him off, explaining that the best way he could apologize would be to just clothe him.

Clockwerk called up a guard to bring multiple outfits, so that their guest could have what he pleased. Sly, already uncomfortable having to choose his breakfast each morning, visibly cringed at the idea of picking a fancy outfit. Per Cooper's request, Clockwerk sent for a fetching of simple white rags, baggy and none-too revealing.

Once his genitals were safe from the gaze of the owl, he sat himself down on the chair previously offered to him. "So tell me, Paradox," The bird started, moving papers and sticks from his desk so he could rest his arms. "how did you get here?"

Sly laughed, keeping calm at being referred to by the name of that skunk. "That is a long story… I don't think you'd even believe me."

Clockwerk smiled. "Why not? I believed your other lies."

Flinching, the raccoon forced his face to remain calm. He's just trying to intimidate you, Sly. He doesn't know anything… Sly fabricated a laugh. "Alright, but you asked for it." Sly said, avoiding a response to Clockwerk's sneaky accusation, bringing about a spark in the bird's eyes.

Sly started with his story, abridging the finer details to make sure the owl didn't figure out he was a cooper. Sly lied to him, saying that he was a traveler from the future sent back in time to explore the past. "To compare how it really was to how our historians say it was." He stated, never breaking eye contact with Clockwerk, who showed no change of expression. The raccoon talked about the other countries he had visited, mentioning Japan, The United States, England and what would soon be renamed Saudi Aribia. He expanded his story, talking about his travels to other areas in other times, selecting locals from his previous adventures; Haiti, India, Australia, Russia, having to explain what each territory was in modern day. Sly noticed when he mentioned Russia, Clockwerk would look away for a moment, before swallowing air, coughing hard, then returning his attention to the story. Sly continued to explain that he traveled through time via blimp – Dumbed down to "A big flying chariot" for easier understanding – and that it had crashed here, and as long as it remained broken, Sly was trapped.

When he finished his partly false tale, Clockwerk nodded with a heavy sigh. "If you are from the future… how far did you say?"

"Three thousand years… give or take a few." Sly responded.

"Ah. If you are a traveler of three millennium, tell me; Does God reveal himself?" The bird asked, seeming genuinely curious.

The question came as a shock, as Sly was sure the bird would ask for a certain detail only a time vagabond would be able to answer. Hearing a religious question was a bit bizarre for the raccoon. He remembered Clockwerk to be relatively smart. Cunning, manipulative, philosophical, the question was something the bird would ask… just not this Clockwerk. Maybe they aren't the same people… maybe… Sly pondered the question for a minute before responding smoothly. "Which one?" He knew thirteen hundred BCE was way before the start of Christianity, and that the owl must have been referencing the Egyptian gods.

Clockwerk scoffed. "You know which one." After a shrug from Sly, the bird sighed an annoyed puff of air, rolling his eyes. "Allah?"

That left a strange twist in Cooper's gut. Allah? Clockwerk beamed a menacing glare at him. "Most people don't even believe in gods anymore… it's all seen as scriptures of the past. Like… fairytales." The raccoon finished, tiptoeing around blatantly saying 'no.' The bird nodded.

It seemed to be an hour of uncomfortable silence as Clockwerk stared deep in thought at a design on his wall, depicting a large catapult-esque contraption. Finally, he spoke; "How is time travel possible, when time doesn't exist?" He looked at Cooper again, without moving his head. He didn't even seem to be breathing at that moment.

Time exists, of course it exists! Cooper shrugged, trying to convey a comfortable vibe. "I didn't build it, I just drive it."

Clockwerk shook his head, still holding his breath. "Answer my question. Time is a measurement, so does your machine erase all progress made by man up to a certain date? Does it move forward in time? Of course it would, you have to return home, so theoretically, you cannot erase history, that would mean you would have to be able to rebuild it, but with your new input effecting the outcome of decisions, history must change. And if history changes, how can it rebuild? If it is meant to follow a simple path set by what happened when you moved past other time periods until you got here, then that path must change, but for one change to alter an entire trilogy of millennium, the model must be damaged surely! And then if you were to stop yourself from altering that model, you alter it twice fold, creating an even bigger difference! And then, say you were to stop time travel from ever existing, via time travel, you create a… a…"

The bird stopped rambling to glare at Sly, who was now scared both mentally and physically. His body tensed up, and his skin adopted the burning sensation again. The owl seemed to smile, the same way Sly would smile after finding loot in the pockets of unexpecting guards. The same smile that said 'I found it. I have it. It is mine.'

"A paradox." The owl finished. The raccoon nodded slowly, trying desperately to think past his fear, and bullshit together a feasible explanation as to why that fit his name.

The two sat in burning silence, just staring at each other, trying their hardest to read the other's mind. Clockwerk was close, but Sly's brain had gone empty, replaced with primal instinct. He wasn't prepared to fight the bird, but he was ready to run. If those wings could hold up six tons of robot owl, they sure as hell could support three hundred pounds of biological terror.

Clockwerk smiled. "You know why they call me Clockwerk, right?" Sly shook his head. "I make clocks. They tell time. Everyday someone asks me how time works. Where time goes. I have to explain that time isn't real. I have to explain that things happen and we can't change those things. They just happen." The air grew unusually cold as a shadow settled over the sun. "…Like clockwork." His smile grew larger.

Sly Cooper stood up quickly, feeling his skin crawl under his fur. He wanted to move outside into the bipolar air, find some water, find the gang and Carmelita, go home. He would even settle for just burning to death. Anything to get away from the bird. A million thoughts passed through Sly's mind as he forced the feeblest smile he could and pushed his chair into Clockwerk's desk. It contacted the stone with a lousy thud, rustling some of the papers. "I think I'm hungry… Is there someo-one I could talk to about some f-food?"

The bird stared warmly at him, happy he had got the raccoon to crack. Sly knew he was planning something. "Of course," He stood up and walked Sly to the doorway, setting his huge hand on the raccoon's shoulder. It was cold, like it was already made of nerveless steel. It made Sly shudder to be held underneath Clockwerk's huge arms, for if he wanted to, he could kill Cooper with one swift motion. Finally finishing off the family line. Ironic that their legacy would start and end in Ancient Egypt. He pointed to a building off in a corner of the city, near where Sly remembered being dragged out of. "Hope you like leeks."

The raccoon nodded and quickly ran out from under the arms of his father's killer, not looking behind him at what he knew was glaring a hole in his back. He just quickly descended the stairs, hoping to find something he could use to defend himself. Where the fuck is my cane!? He screamed at himself, his eyes darting from stone building to stone building searching for any kind of treasure trove. Near a divide in the city's wall were various animals moving and cleaning parts from the blimp wreckage, lining the most important pieces on a cloth to be taken to their mayor.

The thought of what Clockwerk could do with that kind of technology scared Sly out of his mind… even though he knew exactly what that technology would do. Somehow, that owl would find a way to meld his mind into machine, and create the biggest terror the Cooper family has ever seen. Or will ever see… a tiny fearful voice in the back of Sly's mind reminded him, to be immediately repressed.

Near his body, close enough to snatch, and too far from the cleaners to be missed, lay a thin cylinder of coal. Nimbly swiping the stick, Sly jumped to a plan. He squatted down behind a corner of the wall and drew his mask logo big and wide enough to last a while. If it could survive the test of time, this would be his ticket back to the present. For added effect, Sly continued to draw miniature logos across every wall and door he found, large and clear enough to be noticed come twenty-seven centuries.

Sure enough, a loud crash carried a wisp of cold air over Sly's body, but before he had time to figure out the direction it came from, another crash was heard, this time, followed by screams. Several gunshots chased the screams, as well as that of stone cracking. Sly knew that he needed to find Bentley before the chaos reached him. The closer and closer he got to the source, the larger and larger the feeling of dread grew. The screams showed their face when Sly turned a corner, and a triumphant yell echoed over the gunshots. "THE MURRAY YEILDS FOR NO RODENT!" The hulking mass of pink hippo stepped over a twitching pile of police he had growing at his feet. "Except for raccoons!" He smiled, holding out his arms in pure happiness.

Sly gratefully accepted his hug, barely wincing at the pain of the squeeze. "A couple hours feel like a few years without you, buddy." Sly laughed gaily, looking the hippo over. He looked different, aged even.

"No time for that now. We have to get you out of here!" Murray sucked in a heavy breath and charged back into the battle, signaling for the raccoon to follow. The hippo continued rocketing past troops and civilians until he was cut off by the white-hot form of the van slowly taking shape. It skidded to a halt as the color returned, its tire streaks still aflame behind it. The huge metal door flew open, and an outstretched hand beckoned for sly. Due to the shade, it was impossible to tell who's hand it was, but Sly didn't care, as long as it helped him out of this sand pit.

He reached for the hand, but stopped inches away from it. "My cane…" He muttered, his mind retuning to him.

"Augh! Dammit Cooper!" a feisty voice yelled, sucking it's – well, her hand back in. The shadow of Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox grew a little brighter, Sly's eyes adjusting to the light. Or maybe it was due to the illumination emitted from her shock pistol. It spat out a furious blue ball of lightning, landing a few feet behind him. Sly spun around just in time to see a large camel twitch violently with his new sensation. He fell on his back, still twitching. "Raccoon! Come on!" Fox yelled, failing to regain the attention of Sly.

"I need to find my cane!" he yelled absentmindedly.

Bentley looked back from the driver's seat, franticly pushing buttons and yanking at levers. "Sly climb in! We can find it!" He winced when Carmelita fired a few more shots into a growing crowd, who had begun throwing spears and rocks. Sly was hesitant. Not that he didn't trust Bentley, or fear that they didn't have enough firepower to break out of the past, but he needed his cane. He had only ever left it before when he knew it would be in good care. If Clockwerk got a hold of it…

Before he had time to verbally protest, he was lifted from the ground and thrown into the van. "Go! I'll hold 'em off you for a little while. Find the cane and then come back for me, okay?" Murray yelled over the accumulating chaos, not even flinching at the impact of all the rocks.

Sly was about to speak again, but was cut off for a second time when Carmelita slammed the van door shut. "Drive!" She yelled.

Bentley slammed his foot on the throttle and spun off into a large alleyway. "Where are we looking for it?"

Sly sat himself down in the passenger seat as Carmelita cursed at her pistol, trying to reload. "Uh… look for all the blimp parts, maybe they're storing them all together." He shrugged, analyzing the stone walls surrounding them, wondering if the van was strong enough to break through them.

Carmelita yelled harshly in Spanish, reaching past sly and grabbing at the glove box. "That'd be real freaking convenient!" she extracted a small red pipe with a blue glow. She shoved it in the top of her gun and glared at sly. The raccoon blinked slowly, staring out the windshield, not wanting to look back. When Fox realized she wasn't going to get a reaction, she growled and turned away. Bentley and Sly sent each other a cold nervous glance, trying to read each other's thoughts, worried that she'd- "WALL!" Her voice exploded behind them, just before the van went darting straight into a huge white stone wall. Bentley pushed both his feet down onto the van's brake pedal- Wait… How the hell has Bentley been driving all this time? Sly thought, seconds before being violently thrown into the dashboard.

When the raccoon felt it was safe to start breathing again, he noticed the rig still seemed to be in one piece. Not even a small crack in the windshield. Plenty of sand, though. The door behind sly opened will a loud crack, giving hint as to what might be destroyed. Sly followed Carmelita outside onto the yellow ocean of sand. She was standing motionless, pistol hanging from her belt, just a few meters from the van. She was watching the city, not even a hundred feet in front of her, slowly crumble and fall. The hole in the wall the van had made on its exit was growing larger by the millisecond. Soon, the entire side of the wall collapsed. Carmelita sighed. "The hell is he doing in there?"

"Annihilating what would one day be a beautiful vacation spot?" He joked, standing beside her. Adding a little to his ego, and much to his joy, she laughed.

"Yeah, if any travel agent could figure out how to pronounce the damn name." She kept chuckling.

Sly laughed, chiefly due to relief she was happy. He looked at her, the warm light shining brightly off her deep brown eyes. They almost looked like candy, the way they shined. When they looked back at him, they brought with a sincere smile. Her hand even raised itself to cup Sly's cheek and rub his chin. She was about to pull him in for a kiss, when Bentley yelled from behind them to look towards another part of the city. Sure enough, there seemed to be a huge squared off section filled above the brim with large metal pieces and other bits of debris. Sly looked back at Carmelita with a grin. "Almost over."

"No more adventures, okay?"

"Awe, not even one?"

She laughed, moving back to the van. "Not in a millennium, Cooper."

Sly nodded slowly. "How about three, then?"

Once the two had settled back in the van – and Bentley had determined the rig wouldn't immediately fall apart– they set off for the big pile of wreckage. On their way, they observed hulking masses of rock and rhino fly high over the standing walls. What wasn't aflame or broken to a pile of rubble was slowly catching up to its brethren. Within mere seconds, any standing tower or wall they laid eyes on would deconstruct themselves, with the aid of a huge hippo.

They had finally run over the last few piles of gravel, granting them entryway to the large storage lot. Chucks of crumbling stone pushed the steel beams over to block their escape behind them. "It had better be in here…" Bentley said under his breath. Sly was more confidant, however, hopping out of the van to inspect the area. He decided to start over by a deliberate collection of machinery, none looking to be too broken. A large pile of clocks, broken lightboxes, keyboards, and other misassorted electrical trinkets. "Dammit…" Sly sighed, knowing the pile was too small to hide his cane.

A voice exploded behind him, almost shattering the raccoon's eardrums with its horrible metallic screech. "Cooper!" sly turned around, spying a large metal monstrosity, chrome plated with huge glowing red eyes. For a second of pure, cold horror, Sly saw the face of Clockwerk. Not the organic, feathered one he had met only minutes ago, but the one he knew. The one he witnessed slaughter his parents. His mind caught up with his eyes in time to recognize that the monster was just a robot, and the voice was only that of a processed Penelope. Her suit was large, but the stick in her left hand wasn't. "Looking for this?" She dangled Sly's cane from her gigantic fingers by her side. Sly could feel her crooked smile behind all of that emotionless steel.

"Glad to see you could make it, Pen. The party's always a little empty without you." Sly crossed his arms and glared at her. He figured if he could just talk to her, maybe she might not force a battle admits all the chaos.

She laughed, sounding scratchy and vented though her robotic voice. "Always the sweet talker, huh raccoon?" She balanced the cane on her thumb while talking, then adding her index and middle finger to either end of the stick, punching slightly. "…But I'm going to need you to be quiet for a little bit." Sly obeyed, growing fearful of whether or not she'd actually break his cane. Sure, she had tried to kill him before, and she probably hated his entire crew, but she wasn't so heartless as to break one of his only family heirlooms… right?

"I need a favor. I need you to leave and never come back. Leave and never come back to anything. Live your lives out, lord knows you have enough money to retire to some private ocean somewhere." She chuckled at her exaggeration. "leave your pathetic lives of thievery and crime, and be done with it all." She held her arm out, pushing down with more force. "Or else I'll- "

She never got to finish her threat, or her action perhaps, as faster than a beam of sunlight passes the hills, and twice as bright, the Gang's van materialized behind Penelope's mech suit and slammed into her, knocking her off her perch along the wall. The figures inside the van were all yelling and fighting for the stick shift. Eventually, what looked like Carmelita elbowed what looked like Sly in his jaw. "Okay! It's done! Let's get out of here!" She yelled, seconds before the van expulsed itself through a parallel wall, disappearing with anther bright flash.

Even though it all happened in the span of only four seconds, Sly had fully absorbed every little detail. He wasn't a paranoid person, but all of Bentley's talk of time paradoxes and "The destruction of the very fabric of reality!" had gotten to him here and there. Sly knew that because he had witnessed a future version of himself performing an action, sooner or later, he'd have to do it verbatim. Or else all of this would be for naught.

A few bright blue blasts erupted from Carmelita's pistol, hitting the grounded Penelope, momentarily locking her in place. Sly, seizing his window, dashed towards his cane, lying only a few feet from its captor. He scooped it up, tipping an imaginary hat to the huge metal suit that lay twitching on the ground. Hearing the van approaching quickly behind him, he figured he could hammer in a quirky remark before his exit. However, in trying to think of something to say, the only expressions that came to his mind were hateful, angry slurs. He had never wanted to curse out or maliciously scream at someone before, let alone Penelope. Sure, she had betrayed him, destroyed their friendship and broken the heart of his best friend, but ultimately, she was just another raindrop in his endless monsoon of life. Not that he was used to being backstabbed, but Neyla had definitely left her marks. Given the chance, he would go back and beat her senseless before he ever had the chance to trust the cat. If not for his said fear of paradoxes, Sly would have already done it. It was never vocal or present, but he always harbored a deep and furious hatred for the Constable. If not for her, Bentley would never have been bound to his wheelchair. If not for her, Murray would never have left. If not for Neyla, Sly would never have had to relive the horror of Clockwerk again… if not for Penelope, Sly would never have been thrown back into a life of robbery, time travel, and ultimately into the claws of what would eventually become his greatest fear… if not for Penelope, Sly would be happy.

Holding himself back, mentally, verbally and physically, he readied himself for his jump. Keep your cool, Cooper. You've done it for years… the words rolled through his mind as he leaped in the air, catching the open door of the van as it spun past the robotic suit. You're almost done…

After climbing back inside the vehicle, and a few loud words from Carmelita about Murray, Sly leaned over to Bentley. "You saw that right?" He asked, running through every little detail in his mind again.

Bentley took a hard left, slamming all passengers against the wall. "Yeah, but we can't do that now!" He yelled, shoving the stick into another gear.

"Whaddya mean we can't do it now? We have to!" Sly yelled back, just as Murray was spotted around a corner.

Bentley spun the van into a U-turn, opening the doors for the hippo. "Sly, we barley have any power, not to mention the condition of the vehicle! We can do it after we're safely back in the present!" The van shook under the weight of the hippo.

Sly started to interject when Carmelita pressed against him, agitated by the lack of room. "¡Hijo de puta!" She growled. "Cooper just listen to him or I swear- " She was cut off when a huge boom shook the very earth in front of them. Standing at the mouth of the alleyway, was Penelope in her large metal suit, bracing herself, as if to catch the van upon its approach. A few uninjured guards were gathering behind her. "Mierda…" She sighed.

Murray, however, was accelerating his breathing. "Hey pals, what'd I miss?" he asked happily, oblivious to the figure in front of them.

Sly snatched the stick shifter and pulled it into reverse. "Go! We have to do this now!" He yelled, still being squashed by Carm, who was also reaching for the stick, forcing it to first.

"No! Run her over!" She yelled.

Bentley threw his hand on the top of the pile, keeping the car in Neutral. "No! We can't hurt her!"

"We have to knock her out! I need my cane back!"

"Goddammit if we hit her now, she's out of our hair forever!"

"I won't let you!"

"Bentley, we could all die!"

"SHE, needs to!"

"I still love her!"

Murray thought long and hard about the situation unraveling in front of him. Eventually, the cogs in his brain caught up to speed with reality, and he grabbed the stick too, throwing the van into reverse. "Guys, if we back up, we'll have more ramming speed!" He laughed happily, while his three friend's hands were dying under the crushing force of his fist.

With his free hand, sly punched the timestamp into the dash, ready to make the time hop, now that the car was hurtling backwards. "No!" Carmelita and Bentley yelled in unison, fighting to pull the Raccoon off. Suddenly, the air around them grew cold, and a huge aura of energy destroyed the view of stone buildings and a shrinking robot from the windshield, replacing it with a clear shot of the sky. Soon after, the van made contact with what they all knew to be Penelope, and hit the ground with a huge crash. "Good! We can still get home!" Bentley yelled, fighting for re-control of the shift.

Wait… Sly remembered that this had to be verbatim, or else they could all be destroyed. "Carmelita, I need you to elb- " He couldn't complete his sentence, as his teeth nearly bit through is tongue. Being elbowed by someone as strong as Carmelita hurt, but Sly knew it needed to happen.

"Okay! It's done! Let's get out of here!" She yelled, not paying any mind to Sly's pain, as she pushed the stick back into first, contempt with her victory. The van quickly picked up speed, slamming into and destroying the wall in front of them, seconds before the van was swallowed by the aura again.

Everybody sat with anxious breath, praying the van had the last bit of juice needed to make the leap home. Even Sly's pain seemed to momentarily dissipate as he waited. With a loud spurt, and a nerve-racking grinding sound, the car slammed to a halt, its aura gone. Sitting just a few feet in front of them, hidden behind a huge metal fence and a few bushes, was the Gang's French hideout.

The sight of the warm mid-summer Paris day brought about cheers and laughter from the gang. Some celebratory, some relived, most just pure happy.

It was over.

Soon, the pain returned to Sly's jaw, but he knew it wouldn't be too bad. He's had worse pains in his life. Most, funny enough, were Carmelita's doing. She had eventually apologized, aside the cheering and the clapping. "Sorry about that, Sly…" She smiled.

"You could have just shot me, to think about it. Would have hurt less." He smiled back, being pulled into a kiss. A happy, yet heavy pat on the back from Murray and a sarcastic "Awe" from Bentley pulled the two off of each other.

A cracked fit of laughter from the back of the van caught Sly by surprise as it spoke up. "Augh! Smooch her, bro! we're all boodie-boodies in this outfit, you dig? What swag have you to lose now, eh?" The lively voice of Dimitri Lousteau was a hard one to forget, especially when I was always so loud.

Sly was confused. "How long have you been back there?"

Dimitri shrugged, and sipped at his flask, looking down at a playboy magazine he was holding. "I don't learn, I teach, you feel? But that does not mean I can't learn. Turtle-man over there spoke into my ear, 'join us, bro' for too long to be a little breeze on your face. A hurricane I felt, I say. So, I came, and it was pretty groovy."

Sly could never understand the lizard, but seldom did he care to. He was just happy to be home. To prove that to his friends, he kissed Miss Fox again, making sure to hold it for a while.

Eventually, it was time for damage control. The van was; "The badass barnacles of Satan's buttocks, bro." in Dimitri's terms. The engine was smoking, the tires were all burned off, the body was badly dented and scared, and the time machine was cracked and sparking. Worse of it all, their dramatic entry had actually taken place in the middle of a busy street. After a solid few heaves from Murray, they were able to pull it into the hideout's driveway, and out of public view. Murray and Bentley went to work on it immediately, to ensure it wouldn't explode in the middle of the night and take out half the city with it. Dimitri scurried off somewhere, as he would do from time to time. Sly took advantage of the serenity to freeze himself in a cold shower, accidentally falling asleep for a few minutes, so absorbed in the wonderful feeling. Afterwards, he dried himself off and dressed in his old clothes. He had left his hat back in Egypt, but come to that or his cane, the choice of what to risk his life over was obvious. It felt nice to feel normal again, to stand fully confidant and comfortable in his home, not naked and horrified in a stone prison face to face with his family's killer. He looked himself up and down the mirror, standing fully present in his own mind, feeling able to control everything. All he wanted to think about was the future of him and Carmelita, but minds will wander, and his did… like Clockwerk… Now that Penelope is back in his era, and with her ability to warp anywhere in a concrete timeline, that made the bird immensely powerful. Perhaps Penelope was the one responsible for the bird's modification all this time. Perhaps Penelope could rewrite time, destroy the coopers before they ever existed… she could be the next Clockwerk…

Before Sly had time to indulge in any more disturbing trains of thought, someone knocked on his door. Without waiting for an invitation to enter, Carmelita slowly moved inside, smiling bright at him. "Figured you'd want this." She handed him a fudgesicle. She was dressed in casual wear, obviously happy herself to be out of the past and in a comfortable position. Sly thanked her and rested his arm around her shoulders.

"Did I ever apologize for running out on this life?" He sighed, looking at her. "Like, ever?"

She laughed and looked out the huge window that opened to a small balcony standing parallel to them. "It's okay Sly. I think you've learned your lesson." Sly nodded and followed her gaze. They had a magnificent view of the Eiffel Tower from there. "Right?"

Sly laughed. "Right."

ANNOTATIONS:

Clockwerk is anthro

Djesdjes is the olden name for what is now Bahariya Oasis.

First mention of Allah comes from about 600 - 500 BCE

Camels weren't brought to Egypt till maybe 500 BCE because of the Persians but this is a furry world so fuck you.

Author's Notes

AHHH holy crap I'm back! Annnnnd my name changed again. Cool. Anyways I'm back, and probably won't be around all the time. What with work and school and my Yo Gabba Gabba inspired rap career taking off and whatnot. However, that doesn't mean I won't write! I fell out of it for a bit (And back into vices like Skyrim and YouTube) but hopefully I can hammer this back into my daily schedule!

This story is inspired by me and my boyfriend revisiting all of the sly cooper games, and kinda falling in love again. We finished the fourth a little before I closed up this chapter, so maybe I can finish the entire thing before the games leave my mind. I have the entire plot planned out (Y'all remember what happened when I tried to "wing it?" Yikes…) and ready to go. It might be a little cheesy here and there, but it's a fanfiction about a child's video game series… This isn't exactly my magnum opus.

Also, for sake of writing actual stuff, and not furry fanfictions, I have a FictionPress! Yay! It's the same name as the one I have currently (Bee-You-Double-El) and I'll mostly do sexy stuff. Like one off stories of sex 'n stuff. Or maybe anthologies of sex 'n stuff.

Did I mention the sex 'n stuff?

TLDR: I'm back, I'm Bee You Double El, this story is brand new, I have a FictionPress.

~BULL