Last Edited: (06.09.12) - Keep in mind nothing has changed, except for the summary, which was bugging the hell out of me, and some wording here and there. I'm too much of a perfectionist for my own good I guess, haha.
I'm pretty bad at one-shots, so I'm hoping this'll somehow hold a candle to all the masters out there that can pull them out of their asses (excuse my language) in a heartbeat.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sly Cooper and friends. They are owned by Sucker Punch.
Ants
"I'd have hoped you'd finally take a break, and let one of those lovely policewomen chase me tonight, Inspector Fox."
"Shut up, Cooper!"
Connor smirked as he easily dodged another one of the shock projectiles.
He twirled his cane in paw, and hefted the large painting across his back up higher. It wasn't heavy in the least, but having to tow it along was beginning to become bothersome. Especially with a certain Inspector on his tail.
"Hey, Inspector," Connor bellowed from his new position atop a satellite tower. He'd performed a perfect Spire Jump to land himself delicately on one of the points there, and he knew perfectly well that no one would be able to get him unless he leaped off himself. "Care to take a break? You're looking pretty winded."
Inspector Santos Fox breathed heavily as he aimed his shock pistol once more. That damnable raccoon was just trying to make him falter in his steps. And unfortunately it was working. That familiar tendril of anger tickled in the back of his mind, but instead of shouting in comprehensively, the fox let his gun do the talking by firing another shot at the raccoon thief.
The ever agile raccoon, leapt from his position, and landed much closer to the ground, but still out of reach from the Inspector; much to the fox's irritation. Another smirk graced Connor's handsome features, his electric blue eyes almost glowing with his amusement.
"What, got nothing to say?" he chuckled. Leaping away again when another loud crack of Santos' shock pistol reached his ears, Connor landed himself on the ground with a roll to deflect the strain on his legs, and took off towards the edge of the building. His ears perked at the sound of heavy footfalls behind him, and he knew that the Inspector was chasing him again.
"Freeze, Cooper!" Santos demanded. He aimed, and shot in the span of a few seconds, but Connor was much faster.
Flipping off the edge of the roof, he deftly hooked his cane onto an electric wire running across both buildings, and put his feet out to catch himself before crashing into the wall. Then he pushed off to flip onto a balcony below, where he shot another confident smirk at Santos, and then flipped down to street level. For a moment, Santos was so shocked by the raccoon's dexterity, he didn't have the time to aim and shoot again, before Connor was sliding down a pipe, and jumping into a van waiting for him.
Before he closed the doors, Connor stuck his head out, and saluted the Inspector, grinning broadly. "Until next time, Inspector!"
Then he was gone, leaving only tire tracks, and exhaust smoke in his wake.
When Santos was finally able to come out of his stupor, he felt anger stab him like a million needles, and he shouted to the heavens, "you god damned thief! Don't think I won't catch you some day!"
Snarling in anger, Santos nearly threw his shock pistol across his office, but preferred to simply slam it against his desk. It was as though all his feelings of rage were concentrated on that one slam, as the very room seemed to reverberate with it.
He threw his jacket against his chair, and sat himself down, glowering at a point in the wall. His eyes seemed to mist over, as he let his feelings encompass in his mind. However, he knew that simply allowing the anger to simmer just under the surface would do him no good, so he sighed, and ran a paw across his face.
Exhaustion was now starting to sift through his bones, and he sagged in his chair.
That damned raccoon.
Hissing in anger, he picked up a discarded file on his desk, and flipped it open to look through it. The file contained what little information they knew about Connor Cooper, from a very grainy picture of the raccoon, to his birth date. Not much was known about the thief, as Connor was a master at deceiving the police, and unfortunately, Santos was the one who had the joy of constantly knowing he let the raccoon slip through his paws again and again.
Another sigh escaped him, and he closed the file with a snap, and stood again.
Perhaps it was time to stop dwelling on this one mistake, and go home. After all, Santos thought with a smile on his face, he had a family to go home to. He thought of his beautiful wife, Juana, who was the epitome of perfection. With her beautiful black tresses of hair, and warm brown eyes that seemed to make Santos drown in their warm depths. He even thought of his wonderful daughter, Carmelita, who was the striking image of Juana. Almost like a miniature version of the female fox, which Santos thought was adorable. When Carmelita was older, she would certainly have many admirers on her tail where ever she chose to go.
Santos checked his watch, and noticed that it was now nearly 2 AM, and he groaned silently to himself.
Stretching sore muscles, he grabbed his discarded coat, and went to leave his office. As much as he wanted to stay and try to track down any trails Cooper might have left, Santos knew that getting home would be best at this moment. How could he chase down that elusive raccoon if he was dead tired?
Also there was the fact that Juana wouldn't be very happy with him if he came home late again, and Santos wanted to avoid that. He knew never to cross the vixen when she was angry.
As he flicked the lights off to his office, he took a quick glance at the file still lying on his desk.
Connor Cooper. One of the best criminals to plague Paris.
It was never known when Connor Cooper would strike again, but Santos knew that he would be there to chase the raccoon again. Sure, he'd gotten away now, but the Inspector knew that one day Cooper would slip up.
And when he does, I'll be the one to finally catch him.
"Earlier tonight, around 9 PM, a man was found murdered in his own home. What at first looked like a break-in, has now turned into a mystery, as the cause or even the motive behind the murder is unknown. The man's identity has yet to be released to the public, but there has been one other survivor found, believed to be the murdered man's child. Interpol has yet to release many details, but Channel 8 News at 12, will be sure to release what we know of the case. Now onto weather with Francis Lloyd-"
Santos shut off the television mid sentence, and let his paw drop to his lap. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Numbness filled his limbs, and the fox found himself unable to move from his position at his desk.
The words from the newscaster flowed through him, even though he knew everything about the case.
Connor Cooper was dead.
Sighing heavily, he leaned against his desk, and let his face fall into his palms. As much as that raccoon irritated the hell out of Santos, as the thief had been a constant smear on his perfect record, he never wanted the man dead.
The very idea that one of Cooper's enemies had caught up and killed the thief was rather disturbing. Especially when Santos thought of the child, that they'd found with the body. Interpol hadn't even known, that Cooper had a kid, and to say the least, Santos and officers alike had been shocked. Luckily, the young kit was alive and well, if traumatized. They'd found the poor boy lying atop his dead father's chest, wailing away.
Santos had found himself unable to move from his position at the door, staring at the destruction in the small apartment. The Inspector barely noticed any of the few items scattered about, neither any of the messiness that came from a man who never took proper care of his living quarters. If anything, one of the first thoughts that struck the fox, was how normal the apartment was. One would expect the hideout of a thief to be falling apart, hidden away or even derelict to the point it looked abandoned.
Perhaps this was why Interpol had been unable to find the elusive raccoon, because he'd been hiding in plain sight.
Blood had been splattered across the floor, walls… even the ceiling was dyed red. Whoever had done this, it was obvious they held an immense grudge against the thief.
Speaking of whom…
The Inspector stepped forward, allowing the other officers to come in, but he ignored their presence and stepped towards the prone body. A small smile of respect pulled at Santos' lips, as he noted that the famous thief had certainly put up a fight. Bruises lined Connor's face, his fur looked like it'd been pulled out in certain places, and one of his arms had been broken. Bone had pierced the flesh beneath, and he could see the white bone jutting out. Gashes crossed the handsome raccoon's face and body, and his ribs appeared to have been broken, as far as Santos could tell.
The man's son had buried his face into the blood soaked shirt of his dad, and was crying loudly. Santos could feel sympathetic for the child, even though he was the kit of a criminal. He kneeled down beside the boy.
The child seemed to sense the fox's presence, and he fisted his paws further into the ripped shirt, and crawled into more of a ball. He didn't even look up at who had approached.
"Kid," Santos said in voice much steadier than he felt. "I need you to come with us."
Still crying loudly, the boy shook his head. His ears were flat against his skull, and that large bushy tail of his was wrapped around his waist in comfort. Santos sighed, and carefully pulled the boy's paws from the dead man's shirt. What he didn't expect was the boy to fight back like a wildcat.
It was during the time that Santos tried to calm the boy down, that he got a good look at the boy's face.
He looked just like his father did. The same grey fur, the same dark rings surrounding his eyes (although that was a guess, as Santos knew that Connor Cooper always wore a mask), and the same number of rings on his tail. The only exception was, the boy's eyes. They were a deep, chocolate brown, as opposed to Cooper's eyes, which had been a bright blue.
"No! I don't w-want to leave my d-dad!" the boy sobbed loudly.
Santos could feel the eyes of the other officers in the apartment on him, and he tried his best to calm the child down.
"We're not going to separate you," Santos lied. He knew this wouldn't be the case, as there was no way that Connor Cooper had any living relatives whatsoever, so the boy would most likely be put in an orphanage. For some odd reason, the fox felt guilty for having to do this, even if the boy was a thief's son. "We just need to get your dad to a hospital, and we can-"
"D-Don't lie," the kit sniffed. His eyes filled with tears, and they flowed on a familiar track down his cheeks. "I-I know dad's d-dead, but I don't w-want to leave h-him! What if t-the bad guys c-come back?"
"Bad guys? Do you know what they looked like?"
The Inspector cursed himself for changing into his professional demeanor, but he also knew that asking this was part of his job. It was heartless, yes, to ask a child who was still clearly mourning his dad's death, but Santos wanted answers. He had to convince himself it wasn't because he wanted revenge, because someone had killed the criminal he'd dogged for many years now.
No, he was just doing his job.
Unfortunately for him, the boy remained silent, save for his sniffling.
Santos glanced back at the other officers, who had been hanging back to let their superior dissuade the situation. With a pleading look, one of them, a tall coyote, stepped forward. He kneeled down next to the Inspector and young kit with a weak smile on his face.
"Hey," he started in a soft voice.
Looking up at the coyote with fearful eyes, the boy bit his lip to stop the sobs from escaping.
"How about you let us take care of your dad, and you can ride in a police car. We'll even turn the lights on for you. What do you say?"
A bright light seemed to turn on in the boy's eyes, and he looked almost cheerful for a moment. But then he looked down at his dad's body again, and his ears drooped. More tears began to well up in his large eyes, and he immediately dissolved into loud sobbing. Instinctively, Santos reached forward and pulled the boy to his chest, and patted weakly on the small tufts of grey fur on his head. The boy was trembling, not even attempting to disguise his loud bawling.
The coyote turned to Santos, and shrugged slightly. The glasses perched on his nose slid down, and he pushed them up with a finger. "Inspector Fox, perhaps it's best if we just left with the kid. I don't think he's in any condition to give us information on… whoever did this."
He waved a paw at the destruction around, and Santos agreed with a short nod of his head. Carefully, he picked the small bundle of fur in his arms, and was a bit surprised to find the boy burying his face further into the Inspector's chest. As Santos walked out with Cooper's kid in his arms, he asked softly, "so, what's your name kid?"
The boy managed to choke out past his sobbing, "S-Sly."
1 week later…
Santos watched as the boy sat on a swing, an unhappy look on his young face. Sly was wearing his dad's old blue cap, and had the cane Cooper had been so famous for, clenched in his paw. It was one of the only things that Interpol had allowed the young raccoon to keep, as the cane provided no evidence against who had attacked the Cooper residence. The fox wasn't sure if he should go forward, and visit the young raccoon, as he felt like it would be stepping over a line.
Did he feel guilt over the death of Cooper?
He wasn't sure what he was feeling, but in a way, he did feel responsible for the young coon. After all, if Santos had perhaps finally been able to catch the thief, then Sly wouldn't have been dumped into an orphanage like this. Perhaps, the young boy would have been taken in by someone immediately, and been able to live a normal life.
Sighing heavily, Santos decided to keep from going forward, and leaned against a tree.
One of the few new assignments he'd been given after the Cooper murder, was watching over the thief's son. Interpol suspected that Sly may be a target, given the extent of the brutal murder of Connor. When Santos had read over the coroner's report, he'd been shocked to read the injuries the old raccoon had suffered. From the concussion, to the broken ribs, to the pierced lung, to even having his organs crushed from some unknown force... Santos could clearly say he felt pity for Connor Cooper.
No one deserved a death like that.
Something like a loud cry brought him out of his thoughts, and he watched as Sly was pushed off the swing to the ground by an older looking boy, a leopard. He could hear what sounded like jeering from the leopard, and Sly looked hurt by whatever was said, and the young raccoon ran from where he'd been sitting, clutching the cane in his paw. Santos sighed at the display, and was tempted to go forward and perhaps even teach the bully a lesson or two, but thought better of it.
What kind of role model would he be if he stepped in to fight Sly's battles for him?
Wait, did he really just think of himself as a role model to the kid?
Shaking his head in exasperation at his own thoughts, Santos decided that perhaps he should go and check up with Mrs. Puffin, the head of the orphanage. He was a bit curious to know how Sly was handling the situation, even though he could tell from one look at the raccoon's slumped shoulders, that he was still deeply effected. The kid might even be suffering from PTSD for all he knew.
He found the old budgie chastising a young hippo, who was looking sheepishly at the ground. From what Santos could tell, the kid had been caught sneaking extra dessert. He only deduced this by the crumbs currently smeared across the hippo's maw. Santos waited for the budgie to be free, before coming forward.
"Afternoon, Mrs. Puffin," he greeted.
She seemed surprised to see him. "Inspector Fox. I wasn't expecting you to come around today."
"Well," he sighed, "I'm usually around to make sure Cooper's kid is fine. How is he doing anyway?"
Mrs. Puffin seemed a bit hesitant to say anything, but conceded to saying, "he's fine as far as I can tell. His roommates do say Sly has been having nightmares, and he's been avoiding one of the children who's an owl. It's quite strange, but so far, he hasn't done anything out of the ordinary."
Avoiding an owl?
Santos looked thoughtful for a moment. "Interesting… Alright, as long as he isn't getting into trouble. I'm sure he'll be fine with time. Thank you again, Mrs. Puffin, for taking him in on such short notice."
The old budgie forced a smile on her face. "Of course. The poor boy needed a place to stay, and I do have to say... I feel somewhat sorry for him." She cleared her throat awkwardly and continued, "regardless, it was good to talk with you again, Inspector, but I must go and make sure none of the other children are getting into trouble. Such is the life of an orphanage caretaker."
She let out a small titter at her supposed joke, and then turned to chase after a kid.
Left alone, Santos let out another sigh, and looked across the grounds again. Sly didn't seem to be outside anymore, perhaps having gone back inside after being bullied. What he didn't expect was the slight tug on his trousers. He looked down to find himself staring into the large, brown eyes of Cooper's kid.
"Hello Inspector Fox," Sly greeted, somewhat shyly. From what Santos could tell, the kid had become somewhat attached to the fox, and took what chances he had to say hello.
Santos kneeled down so that he was eyelevel with Sly, and smiled. "Hello, Sly. How have you been?"
It looked like the raccoon was trying to find the words to properly answer the question. "I'm okay. The orphanage, and Mrs. Puffin are nice."
"That's good to hear."
Silence came down on the two of them, and just as Santos was about to stand again, Sly grabbed his coat in a fist. "I-Inspector… W-When will I be able to leave?"
Surprised to hear him ask such a question, Santos wasn't entirely sure how to answer. "… Well I guess that'll depend on… who adopts you, kiddo."
"'Adopts?'" Sly repeated curiously. He cocked his head to the side, like a puppy would. "What does that mean?"
"It means when someone will come to the orphanage and take you to their home, as their son."
"Oh," said Sly quietly. Silence reigned over the two for again, before Sly broke it by asking, "Can you adopt me?"
1 year later…
Silence permeated the derelict building. Santos barely breathed as he stepped through the large foyer. It was dark outside, with only the moonlight filtering into through boarded up windows, but the Inspector knew why he was here. He checked that his shock pistol was still at full charge, because he knew that going in there without being armed, and without a full battery, was foolish.
Santos had finally tracked down the one responsible for Cooper's murder.
Even though he knew that carrying about personal vendettas against criminals was frowned upon at Interpol, the fox had ignored it and gone alone. He didn't have any sort of backup to save him, or watch his back. All he cared about was getting the man responsible for everything. The fact that he was going to such lengths to catch the person, told much about what he had gone through over the year.
His footsteps made nary a sound, as he swept his pistol around into the dark corners of the building. It'd been pure luck that he'd managed to gather enough Intel to find this building, as this criminal - no this murderer - was almost as elusive as Cooper had been. One of the few clues he'd had to go on, was from Sly's own mouth. After Santos had found out about the raccoon being afraid of a young owlet at the orphanage, the fox had gone to many lengths to get information out of Sly.
Not just to finally be able to track down those criminals, and put them behind bars, but to also make sure that they never again terrified the young boy.
As much as Santos didn't want to admit it, he'd grown close to Sly over the year. One could see the Inspector constantly at the orphanage, greeting Sly, and sometimes even giving him small treats (without Mrs. Puffin's knowledge of course). Santos had also been extremely pleased to see Sly finally make friends, and to see the young coon be at ease with everything. Even though he had yet to be adopted, Sly didn't seem to mind. If anything, he actually enjoyed being at the orphanage now.
Santos still wasn't sure to this day, why he felt responsible for the boy. He chalked it down to it feeling guilty over the fact he had yet to catch the murderers, and hadn't gone out of his way to actually adopt the child when Sly had asked. He knew that Sly felt upset when Santos had told the raccoon he couldn't do it, and even Santos himself - much to his surprise - felt saddened as well.
When Sly had trusted the Inspector enough to talk, Santos felt as though the two had created some sort of bond that wouldn't easily break. It always came as a surprise to the Inspector, as he never believed he would be easily conversing with the son of the thief he'd tried so hard to put behind bars not more then a year ago. Sly had told Santos all about the five people who had come to murder his father. The one that had stuck out the most in Santos' mind, was the large owl he'd been told of.
The owl was the leader of this criminal syndicate, and Santos also knew that he was the one who had dealt the final blow to end Cooper's life. Santos had no clue what the monster's name was, but from the way Sly seemed so terrified, even a year after, was proof enough to know the owl was not someone to underestimate.
Shaking the thoughts, and the guilt still gnawing at his conscience, he came back to his current development, and continued to make his way silently through the building.
Glass cracked under his foot suddenly, and he cursed underneath his breath, freezing in place. When nothing seemed to move, Santos once again began his sweep of the foyer, and shadows. There was nothing of interest, and he wondered if perhaps his sources and own detective skills had been wrong.
Just then, a strong wind swept across the room, and he shielded his eyes against the dust in the air. He was nearly bowled over by the strong wind, but somehow kept his stance. When he uncovered his eyes, it was to find a dark figure standing, not more then 5 feet away from him, with glowing yellow eyes. It stood tall and proud, with what Santos could only deduce were wings, folded in front. The figure stood tall - much taller then Santos thought was possible.
Ignoring this, he brought his pistol forward and said with a determined smirk on his face, "I'm glad to see my skills haven't waned. You're under arrest."
There was a sudden chill in the air, as the figure opened its beak, and spoke. The voice sounded mechanical, and cold, as though devoid of any sort of emotion that made a person normal. The shiver that ran across Santos' spine, and a sudden primal fear spreading through his limbs, was real enough to make him want to bolt.
"Under what grounds, officer?" the figure demanded. "I've done nothing wrong, except live in this abandoned building. Is that a crime?" The figure swept a large wing across the room, making Santos gape in shock. The appendage seemed to stretch for miles
Santos shook his head to get rid of the surprise, and frowned. "Don't give me that mierda. You know what you've done. I know you're the one who murdered Connor Cooper, and I'm here to put you, and the rest of your colleagues in jail."
A laugh, akin to snakes slithering on the ground echoed in the foyer. "As far as I can tell Inspector, you have no evidence to connect me to that crime."
"I have a witness."
An iron curtain of silence fell over the two, until the figure let out another sickening laugh. "It was the boy, wasn't it?"
The Inspector's eyes narrowed, and he suddenly felt his jaw clench. "I'm not answering that. Now, come quietly, or I'll be forced to shoot."
"Your guns won't hurt me," the figure waved a wing, almost seeming to roll his eyes in irritation. "Now Inspector, as I'm sure you know… Yes, I was the one to kill that foolish Cooper. His screams of pain were rather exhilarating. The man practically begged for his life, and it was only because I felt pity for him, that I made his death as painless as possible. To feel his bones crushed under my claw, and to feel him struggle to escape and save himself… Inspector, even you must understand the joy I took in the action."
Santos' eyes were wide with horror, and he felt fury like he had never felt before, rise up in his chest. His very vision seemed to fade into red, and his finger itched like never before, to pull the trigger, and put this madman down.
And that was exactly what he did.
The fox barely felt the aftershocks of shooting such a powerful weapon run up his arms and shoulders, as the pistol let loose a barrage of electricity straight at the figure. The say the least, the fact that the energy shot hit the figure straight in the chest, and he didn't go down, was the final straw to break the camel's back. Despite all reason screaming at Santos to not throw his only weapon away, the pistol was flung aside, and he was leaping forward to tackle the much larger figure down.
In a flurry of feathers, the figure twisted away, and brought its wing down to slam Santos against the floor. All the air whooshed out of him in one single breath, and he felt the crushing force in the criminal's wing atop of him. Trying to breathe through what he only thought to be cracked ribs, he glared up at the figure.
As it leaned forward to stare eye to eye with the fox, Santos got his first look at the figure.
It was an owl, just as Sly had described, imposing and large with cold, jaundice-coloured eyes. But what was the most surprising of all, was how the figure looked. It was a mechanical owl, with no signs of flesh or feathers anyway. Its beak, head, neck, wings… it's entire body, was made of metal. The moonlight reflected off the silvery sheets, and the owl let out a small hiss of breath, cold air rushing past its metal beak.
"Now, now Inspector… I would hardly expect someone as professional as you to disregard all protocol and attack someone who hasn't yet threatened you. But perhaps I should have known better… After all, you've been looking after the boy, haven't you?"
"W-What the hell are you?" Santos managed to choke out past the crushing weight on his back.
The owl breathed, and rasped, "my name is Clockwerk. And I am the one who has chased the Coopers for much longer then you have yourself. I daresay, we might even be the same."
"Don't compare me to you," the fox hissed.
"I would hardly dare to compare myself to an insect like you," Clockwerk's voice dripped with contempt at the very thought of being compared to someone like the Inspector. Applying a bit more pressure to Santos' back, the owl seemed to take great pleasure in hearing the fox yell in pain.
Santos tried to breath through the agony, but even now he could hear something crack, and he knew that the owl was trying to break his very back. "B-Bastard," he gasped. "Why the hell did you kill Cooper? He was a t-thief, but he didn't deserve death!"
"You don't know the history between myself and the Cooper clan," Clockwerk said. His eyes seemed to glow with the anger flowing through his mechanical being. Santos now realized, that this ran much deeper then he'd first thought.
Clockwerk hadn't killed Connor Cooper because he thought it was fun.
No, the owl killed Connor, because he hated the raccoon.
"Now, I can let you go if you don't try anything else, or… I can crush you just like I crushed Cooper. How ironic, don't you think?"
Santos spat at the floor right where Clockwerk's claw was.
Snarling in anger, Clockwerk lifted his wing for just a moment, before bringing it back down like a guillotine. Santos could hear the wind whistle in his ears, as Clockwerk's wing cut through the dank air. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing this was the end.
Looks like thieves, and police officers meet the same fate in the end. I'm sorry Juana... Carmelita... And Sly. I'm sorry I couldn't avenge your father's death.
There was a loud crack, and then everything went black.
Did Santos die? Is he still alive?
Honestly, I don't know, haha. I tried to leave it ambiguous at the end, just so people can make their own conclusions about what happened to him in the end. Okay, again, I'm sorry if there's any spelling mistakes, or if you all are confused but… Also, the title comes from a song I was listening to at the time. If you want the name/artist of it, just send me a PM, and I'll send it along.
Yeah. Hope you enjoy!