A/N: Long Chapter.
Thirty minutes away on the other side of The Bronx, Sly and his gang arrived back to Dimitri's apartment. They had a very festive day to say the least.
"Oh wow what a day!" Murray exclaimed as he sat on the couch and turned the T.V. on. "It's times like this where I wished we lived here again! That buffet was so good, I didn't want to leave."
"You said the same thing when we later went to our old spot, Nathan's HotDogs." Sly stated.
"Yeah, Nathan's was good too, same as I remembered it and playing at the arcade was even better!"
"Yeah, it was quite a day. Going to that science convention and witnessing all those advanced gadgets was definitely a joy to see." Bentley said as he took his laptop out and did his usual hobby.
"OOOHHH, you homeslices are cool! The day was off the chain, I haven't had this much fun in awhile. Cracker-box, Turtle-dude, and Hippo-boy, the three of you are straight up awesome." Dimitri chimed in.
"It was a good day. I managed to pickpocket those uppity selfish jerks at that Yonkers Racetrack we were at, boy was that something! I figured those mean people didn't need their cash." Sly giggled a bit as he walked over to Dimitri and started tickling the Iguana.
"Yo Cracker-box! Stop it homie!" He said between fits of laughter.
Sly ignored him and continued messing with him as Bentley and Murray giggled at the two.
"I'll stop if you say 'Sly is the greatest thief ever'."
Dimitri looked at the Raccoon as if he lost his mind and scoffed.
"Please Cracker-box you play too much. We may be friends but I'll never bow down to you homeboy!"
He smiled at him vainly and then sprang onto Dimitri and pinned him down to the floor.
"Okay, since you didn't listen to me the first time around, I'm just gonna sit on you until you say it."
But Dimitri simply pushed the Raccoon off of him. He briefly forgot that Dimitri was bigger than him, even if Sly worked out often. Sly stood up and the gang couldn't help but laugh.
"Yo Cracker-box, you might have some muscle but you're still a little shrimp." Sly helped him up from the floor.
"I'm gonna play some Nintendo, who wants to join in?" Murray asked.
"Hey, Hey Hippo-Boy you can count me in!" Dimitri lit his cigarette and sat next to the Hippo.
"Sure, just need to do a few things on my laptop and I'll be through." Bentley said.
Murray looked over to Sly. "Hey Sly, you wanna play?"
Sly yawned, realizing he was a little tired. "Naw, you guys have fun without me, I'm gonna snooze for a while. I'll be up later on tonight."
"Ok." The three of them said as Sly headed to the room he shared with Murray and Bentley.
He closed the door behind him and plopped onto the comfy bed.
Despite the not-so-great area, so far there haven't been any real problems. Sure there were few crackheads arguing outside with each other from time to time but for the most part, everything was ok. Still, he would never think to live in this area of the Bronx and he still thought Dimitri was crazy to even consider this spot. They've only been here for a few days and already he felt right at home. Admittedly, he did miss New York very much and the adventures they had today confirmed this. He blinked a few times and drifted off to sleep.
"I'll prove it to you, just watch Daddy." Sly looked up with his chocolate-brown eyes at his father with a mischievous smile.
His father chuckled as he gave his son a kiss. "I'll take your word for it son."
Someone knocked on the door. It started off with a few taps until it grew aggressive. Sly's father removed him off his lap, got up from his lounge chair, and swiftly headed to the door. He looked through the peep-hole and felt his heart drop realizing who the "visitors" were. He immediately ran to the kitchen to alert his wife.
"Lauren, stop what you're doing right now." He demanded, holding his wife's shoulders.
"What's wrong Connor, who's banging at our door like that?" She asked.
"It's them."
Sly mother knew what he was talking about and her eye widened in fear. Suddenly, a large brick was thrown at their kitchen window, the shards of glass was all over the floor. The brick barely missed the scared couple; Sly's mother was holding her husband for dear life.
"Go get Sly right now and keep him somewhere safe." He said with urgency as he quickly went to get his cane and his wife followed him.
Sly was still in the living room, frightened because he heard the loud noise in the kitchen. He saw his father and wanted to know what was going on and why the people outside wouldn't stop banging on their door.
"Daddy!"
His father was too busy looking for his cane to even answer him. Sly was alarmed by all the commotion. He just stood in the middle of the floor in confusion, biting his nails.
"Who's at the door? The cops or is it some bad people out to hurt us?" So many questions swarming through his mind yet no answers came about.
He saw his mother walk over to him, snatched him up, and pushed him into the living room closet.
"Mama, what's going on?" He asked nervously.
"Hush Sly, don't make a sound. Stay in the closet until me and your father say it's ok." She told him in a stern tone of voice.
"But Mama! I don't under-" Before he could even finish his sentence, his mother pulled him into her embrace, holding him tightly…almost as if to say goodbye…It felt like an eternity but was only a few seconds. She let go of him and brushed his spiky grey head fur, tears were threatening to leave her eyes. Seeing his mother cry was making him upset and the situation wasn't getting any better as the "visitors" were now trying to break the door down. His father approached the two of them, with his cane in hand, and knelt down to his only son.
"Sly…I want you to be a good little boy and stay in the closet, this is not a game. I'm very serious. No matter what happens, your mother and I love very much; don't you ever forget that, understood?"
He nodded to his parents, he felt the hot, salty tears stream down his furry face.
"D-don't forget this, son…T-this is your legacy…It's your turn n-now…" His father's voice was beginning to crack but he showed no facial distress as he handed the Thievius Raccoonus to him.
"I love you Mama and Daddy." Sly finally said. He gave the two one last hug and then hid himself further into the closet as his parents closed it. He was now hidden in darkness and uncertain about anything at this point. Will he ever see his parent's alive again or not? Sly felt the grim reality hit him when he heard the invaders burst into their home and hearing heavy footsteps, making him cringe. All he heard was yelling and it was very hard to make out with everyone speaking all at once until a dark, booming voice bellowed out.
"COOPER! WE HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU! YOU WILL DIE TONIGHT!"
For the next fifteen minutes all he Sly heard were sounds of violence and things in their house being smashed. He dared not peek out there.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"
Sly's eyes widened as he heard the bloodcurdling, agonizing screams of his parents. He whimpered in silence, holding the book of his ancestry close to his chest and involuntarily rocking back and forth. His stomach was hurting him due to anxiety, so he held the book tighter, never stopping his rocking motion. He couldn't wrap his mind around all this. He was hoping it was just a bad dream.
"No…No…No…No…No…" He begged softly in despair.
"…No…No…No…No…No…"
"Sly! Wake up!" Bentley shook the Raccoon out of his nightmare.
"NO!" Sly sprang up nearly lashing out at the turtle. He was breathing heavily as a look of bewilderment shown on his face. He looked to his turtle friend, who was just taken back by Sly's behavior. Sly rubbed his face, noticing how he was sweating profusely and was feeling overheated so he pulled his shirt off and lied back down.
Dimitri and Murray appeared in the room.
"Whoa Sly, are you ok?"
"Yeah Cracker-box, we heard you chatting in yo sleep dude." Dimitri added.
"Sly, please say something, you had us worried." Bentley was getting concerned with the lack of response from the Raccoon.
"I'm…I'm…ok…I just had a nightmare…no big deal." He tried his best to play it off by showing his cocky grin but his friends weren't fooled.
"Sly you were whimpering in your sleep. Now you're drenched in sweat and disoriented yet you expect us to believe you're ok?" Bentley didn't have time for Sly's little facade; he needed to get to the bottom of this.
"Umm, I need to be alone with Sly for a minute, if you two don't mind."
Murray and Dimitri simply shrugged, although they too were wondering what was up with Sly.
"Ok." Murray said. "Holler if you need us." And the two of them headed back to the living room and closed the door behind them.
Now it was just Sly and Bentley in the room. Sly knew he was going to be interrogated. He had to try his best to reassure Bentley that he was fine. He was not exactly in the mood to open up about his nightmares or the things that have been on in his mind lately.
The turtle adjusted his wheelchair and cleaned his glasses.
"What time is it?" The Raccoon didn't know why he asked.
"It's 8:12 P.M." Bentley said figuring out where to go with the conversation.
"Sly," He began wearily. "I…I know there's something wrong, you can't hide it from me."
Sly got up from the bed and headed to the bathroom to wash his face, Bentley followed.
"Your behavior has been abnormal lately. It's like ever since our plans for this heist began, you seem to have nightmares a lot, I've heard you whining in your sleep."
After Sly finished washing his face, he turned to his friend, attempting to be his usual self.
"Bentley, I appreciate your concern, really I do. But, right now, I just have a lot on my mind, I'll be ok."
He walked back to the room and found a shirt to put on and then his jacket, Nikes, and hat. He also grabbed his cane.
Bentley was carefully trying to find a way to spit it out what he wanted to ask. He wheeled himself closer to his friend, with his friend's back turned to him.
"Does this have anything…to do with your parents?" The question was barely above a whisper, but Sly heard it clearly because his ears twitched and he just stood there. Bentley felt the blood drain from his face, he quickly regretted bringing it up.
Sly faced his friend with a dark glare. It was so uncharacteristic of Sly to where it was creepy, almost like he was possessed.
"This has nothing to do with my parents. Don't even drag them into this." He said in a low dry tone and walked out of the room.
"Where are you going Sly?" Bentley asked worriedly as he followed him out of the room. Murray and Dimitri were curious as to what was going on.
"Sly?" Bentley continued.
Sly had his hand on the door knob and sighed in irritation as his face pressed against the door.
"I need some air, I'll be back soon." He turned the door knob and rushed out, slamming the door behind him.
Everyone was in utter shock.
"What the hell just happened?" Murray looked over to Bentley who said nothing and just stared off into space.
In Yonkers in the Public Housing area, Damien and his grandmother were in the kitchen eating dinner. The kitchen was pretty small barely four people could walk in there, the walls was painted yellow and white showing signs of aging as there were a few cracks appearing. For dinner they had collard greens, black-eyed peas, macaroni and cheese, baked chicken, and cornbread. Damien loved his grandmother's cooking but he refused to eat collard greens, he couldn't stand the texture or the taste of it. He was just moving it around with his fork.
"Damien, boy you better eat them greens." She admonished her grandson.
"Aww, grandma, you know I hate collard greens, they nasty." He whined as he continued to play with them on his plate.
"Boy hush, you should count your blessings that we even have food. There are kids in this very building who would be thankful to eat them collard greens on your plate. Don't be selfish."
The little meerkat lowered his head and pouted. His grandmother was trying to guilt him into eating although he couldn't deny how right she was, there were families even poorer than his. Still, he refused to eat them.
His grandmother felt little bad for doing that so she came up with another idea.
"Look Damey, if you eat all your green and wash the dishes without me telling you more than once, you can have some ice cream."
His little face lit up at the word "ice cream", and then he grimaced at his plate and slowly ate the greens. He despised the taste but if it meant getting ice cream it was worth it.
When he was finished, he quickly went gather the dishes, then grabbed a stool (because he couldn't reach the sink), and began washing them.
Once he was finish, Damien ran to his grandmother's side with a huge smile on his face.
He grandmother gave him an amusing smile and walked over to the refrigerator and then served him his favorite, Mint Chocolate Chip. He sat at the table, anticipating for his treat. As soon as she placed the bowl in front of him, he went straight to eating it, he already had ice cream on his face.
"Thanks grandma, you the greatest grandma ever."
She just smiled.
He continued enjoying his ice cream as his grandmother looked on. Her smile faded into sadness.
It was 9:15 P.M. and Sly was cruising down on the electrical wires, the fall breeze coursing through his rough fur. He jumped off and grabbed onto the nearest streetlight, climbing it and then crouching upon the very top. He looked out into the streets of Yonkers, he was surprised that so little activity was going on tonight, especially on a Saturday night. There were still people out and about but not as much as he thought it would be. Maybe by ten it'll start to get interesting. A sense of freedom stir within his chest, doing what he did best, sneaking and hiding, even when he's not up to anything, was somewhat alleviating.
He slid down the streetlight and headed to the nearest fire escape, without anyone noticing him. He climbed all the way up swiftly and once he reached the building, he held his arms out and inhaled the cool night air. Sly looked over the city, seeing the mixture of colorful lights and hearing the engine of cars and people talking outside, brought out a strange wave of nostalgia and fearfulness.
He abruptly broke into a fit of laughter, he honestly didn't know what was wrong with him. He wasn't sure what to think anymore. Did he make the right choice coming here or was this all a bad idea? In contrast to his laughter, he was now miserable and a nervous-wreck. The demons of his childhood were winning the battle and slowly consuming him. He tried his best to conceal it from his friends. They didn't need to know, but he learned earlier how worried they were, especially Bentley, he felt guilty for the way he treated him he was only trying to help.
"Snap out of it! You're Sly Cooper, the devious, cunning, and secretive master thief. And the same thief that's getting that sword and making his friends proud of him, as well as make them a lot of money." He hopelessly convinced himself of this.
So why did he feel like he was regressing back to Sly, the little naïve and scared child, who lost everything he knew and almost lost himself to the streets?
Adding to his sexual frustrations and the explicit dreams of Carmelita to the mix, he was even more lost. Lost in childhood trauma and sexual repression, he had to get a hold of himself. If he didn't, he was going to explode. He has not seen Carmelita in a while and he thought it was crazy how much the woman was playing within his mind. He wanted so badly to see her again, to hold her, to kiss her, and to admit his love for her. Of course if he did see her again she would be quick to chase after him. It was a shame that the two of them were at the opposite ends of the law.
"Am I really falling for her?" He questioned himself.
He looked outward to the city, the moon was nowhere to be seen, neither were the stars.
"There's no way she'll go for a guy like me." He concluded as his ears flatten.
He swung his cane around hitting the bricked edge of the roof as an outlet for his stress.
Later on that night around 11:45 P.M., Damien was tossing and turning in his sleep. He was six-years-old again. He was with his father, who greeted him with a warm, paternal smile. Then gunshots rang out, six-year-old Damien feebly covered himself. When the shots ceased, he opened his eyes to see his father lifelessly in a pool of his own rich dark blood. The metallic smell of it was making him nauseous and he heard the laughter of a madman, echoing in his ears.
Damien sprang up and screamed at the top his lungs.
"DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!"
This caught the attention of his grandmother, who rushed to his room. She saw how much her grandson was trembling and fear-stricken he was.
"It's ok Damien, grandma's here."
"Grandma…"
His grandmother pulled him into her embrace, cradling him and the little meerkat broke into a fit of sobs. His face was hot with tears and he started to cough violently, she patted his back to stop him from coughing.
"Daddy…Daddy…" he mumbled through his cries.
"Grandma's here. It's gonna be ok."
She sang him an old song that her mother used to sing to her as a child. She half sung and half hummed it, in order to soothe him. When he calmed down a bit she put him back down onto his bed and placed the covers on him. She wanted to get a rag and some water for him.
"Grandma, don't leave me…please." Damien sleepily said in desperation. Tears still ran down his face with his arms reaching for her.
She hushed him and ran her fingers through his short dreads.
"I'll be back don't worry, baby."
She walked out for a few minutes and came back with a cool, wet rag and a cup of water. She softly dragged the rag around his face and neck to wipe the sweat off him and to keep him cool.
"Drink this baby." She lifted him up so he can drink and then handed the empty cup to her. He lied on his stomach and tried to go back to sleep. She rubbed his back to keep him from trembling so much, his eyes flickered a bit but eventually he fell asleep. She waited for a few minutes just in case he woke up but he didn't so she quietly left the room.
The grandmother, Lucy Jones, was sitting on her lounge chair in deep thought. This was the third time Damien was having nightmares of his father. He had them shortly after his father died and even though they stopped as time went on, evidently they were now returning to haunt him. Grandma Jones knew he needed help, as traumatic as his father's death was for her grandson, but she couldn't afford it then and she definitely couldn't afford it now.
Grandma Jones looked over at the table near her with bills piling up. Every day she worried as to how she was going to take care of Damien. She also feared for his future if something happened to her. She had to stop working about a year ago due to health-related reasons. Although she had benefits, it could only go so far for the two of them. She put her face into her hands until she heard someone knocking on her door.
"Who could that be at this hour?"
She shuffled to the door and looked through peep-hole. She knew who it was and just sighed as she reluctantly opened the door, revealing a young female meerkat, with her hair disheveled, looking side to side in paranoia.
The younger woman attempted a weak smile. "Hey mama."
Grandma Jones looked at her daughter plainly.
"Melissa, girl do you know what time it is?"
The younger woman twitched, rubbing her arm.
"I was just in the neighborhood and decided to see how you were."
The older woman knew better and was not buying her daughter's reasons.
"If you're asking for money, I don't have any." She said and motioned to close the door.
Melissa stopped her.
"No-no, I…I just want to see my baby."
The older woman examined her closely and realized how disoriented she was.
"You are not coming in her looking like that. And besides, Damien is asleep."
"Please mama, I just want to see him. I think about him all the time." She implored.
"When are you gonna grow up Melissa?" Grandma Jones was losing her patience. "You have not seen your child in months and now you decide to show up late at night? I'm also having a very hard time believing that Damien was on your mind while you were out getting high and tricking off men."
Her daughter's lip started to quiver as her eyes glazed over.
"N-n-now…d-d-don't b-be insulting me…"
"Insulting you? Child, I'm telling it like it is. I have tried to get you help and every time you slip up. The last time Damien was in your custody, you left him alone in a crackhouse. Do you really think I trust you even now to be around him?!" The older meerkat's voice grew louder.
"Please, I just want to see him." She avoided her mother's glare.
Grandma Jones put her hand up.
"I love you Melissa but I am not gonna let you hurt him anymore than you already have. That child has been through enough and unless you completely get yourself off of drugs and get a job, you are not going anywhere near him. Goodnight." She closed the door in her daughter's face.
Melissa stood there for a moment and then trudged down the hall of the building with her head down and then fell to her knees, weeping.
A/N: Hey Guys thanks for the support! I appreciate it. BTW, the dream that Sly has is a continuation from chapter 7 just so people won't be confused or whatever. I know this chapter is long but if I added Carmelita's part, it would have been even longer and I didn't want to do that. Anyway, the next chapter will be about Sly and his gangs finally going on their heist…until destiny has other plans. Stay tuned.