Chapter Thirty-Four: Five Months

~Bentley~

My watch tells me my potion will be done in a few more minutes. I hope this creation for my new bombs will work, unlike my past forty-two attempts. A good feeling is what I feel with this one! My older bombs needed a change, or perhaps a new addition to the group. There are explosive ones obviously, then the sedative ones, bombs that almost paralyze my foes, and now… hopefully… bombs filled with my knockout and health-extracting concoction! They will wake up with the same effects as a hangover! But who will be my test monkey?

I remember when it was just Murray and Sly with me, and they would be my test monkeys before the real brew was made to put in the bombs. Well, except the explosive ones. Murray couldn't go to bed because of a constant stomach ache, so he was the first I experimented on with the sedative ones. The first brew gave him an allergic reaction… That was not pretty. It gave the guards hyperactivity, the complete opposite reaction of what I wanted. That was not pretty either. Sly still got zaps in his fur for weeks after my voltage bombs. That was a good sign, to use against enemies of course. Man, where they furious with me!

As a matter of fact, maybe I should not test THIS brew on the others. Who knows what effects this could bring; if done erroneously. Who knows, maybe the knockout part could put someone in a coma. I highly doubt Sly would want that again. The heath extraction could take too much of the heath, causing possible fatality. Too risky to the gang and I certainly do not wish death upon foes. We thieves shall not kill, however there have been a few we may have caused or allowed, like Clockwork, Neyla, Dr. M and Vex… and her…

Iterating beeps attack my eardrums, hence the time to check on the solution! I feel blood pulsing through my fingertips while rushing my wheelchair from my room to the lab. I can smell the potion from the main room; it's scent awfully like a hospital. Alcohol, but with a mix of cherries and aloe. Weird.

I enter the experimenting room, and I see my brewing stand foaming out of its glass! The rust-colored mixture grimaces at me, I must turn the gas off! After I slam the emergency gas button at the doorway, I hurry to the drawers. Test tubes, test tubes, TEST TUBES! Not in this drawer, or the next! Come on, even a cracked one will do!

It seems like a chaotic effort searching every drawer. Why didn't I have one on the table? I always have a few by me! It must be these ideas I caught myself into that's clouding up my normal routine of thought. Another drawer, and the one next to it; there aren't much left! The next one, nothing! I need Sly to steal me more, or buy some from my favorite ThiefNet! How can I not have one? Yes I did crack a lot in my past forty-two tries, but I need to have at least a few!

Two more drawers left, what am I going to do? When I open this one I find one test tube. Only one? This won't be enough! Maybe I should just put them in beakers until I buy more bomb capsules on ThiefNet. I might as well check… the last… picture…

Drawer I meant… Why is this picture here…? Already I feel nauseous and my heart feels heavy. I feel sick… My hearing ignores the bubbling destruction on the table. How can this simple and small picture do this to me; shut out everything around me, add complications to my organs, and most importantly… give me depression.

I…I can't do this to myself. Not again. I look for another thing to take my mind off of this… painful memory. But it wasn't painful then- AHH Bentley stop! Look, there's one, two three… seven test tubes next to it! So eight in total. These will do.

The solution is shared in all eight tubes, and some remains in a beaker. That's enough for testing and if this works, then I shall make more and fill them in my new bomb capsules. I turn, holding the test tube holder, but my heart shatters again to that drawer…

I didn't close it.

I guess I will, it won't hurt, right? I place the test tubes on the counter and as I make my way to that one drawer, my mind is in a constant battle. "No, don't do it!"

"But I won't look at the picture."

"Yes I will, and I will get upset over it again."

"Simple. Just close the drawer so I don't have to worry about it later."

"I don't HAVE to close it at all, just leave it alone!"

"Over a picture? I can't run from my fears. Besides it's just a picture"

"Right, like the time I said 'she's just another girl' and the rest of the day, she's all I thought of for the next four months."

"But I'm fine now; I wasn't five months, four days and six hours ago. Oh wow, now seven hours."

"You see what I mean?! YOU ARE OBSESSED!"

"IT'S JUST A DARN PICTURE!"

I arrive to the drawer with a drained confidence. It's almost like I crawled here with lethargy due to this constant battle. A peek won't hurt, right? I could already feel another uprising in my head but I don't care anymore. It can't be bad to think of her once a while… right? It's not healthy to keep it all in, but it's not healthy to have my thoughts revolve around her. My eyes creep to view the picture, and I felt another squeezing pain in my chest. This is where my person transforms, like Clark Kent turning into Superman. The only difference is I'm not turning into any Superman. It is the complete opposite.

This picture proves that my efforts to feel better is like adding a grain of sand over the memory, but when this memory comes back it's like a sudden tsunami immediately taking down the little hill I made. Then after the water is gone, I start over. But after every tsunami effect, my grains of sand start to become bigger and heavier… or at least that's what I think. What I hope. I don't look at my creation the same anymore, for I have lost the passion. I'll get back to it another day. I take the picture out of the drawer and leave the lab. Sly is at his new house, probably moving furniture around. I think I overheard him saying he'll be working on the floor and walls soon. Murray is working out again. It's been five times this week now, does his muscles ever enervate? At least he's getting in shape. I don't know what made him do that so suddenly, I've been too… occupied.

I can already hear Isabella playing the piano in her room. It sounds either depressing or calming. I can't tell. Perhaps it could be what my emotions want it to be, depressing.

I think she heard me come in, because the next second she's the only thing I hear. "Oh, hey Bentley! How are ya?"

Terrible. Sick. Annoyed. I feel haunted by anything that has to do with her. Mad. Depressed. Hoping she would come back. She'll never come back. Insane. Stressed. Disappointed. I think these people are sick with me still mentioning that mouse. It's like venom that I learned to love. Only me. These people are smart enough to not fall in love with someone so… lethal so… dangerous to your mental health. Well, maybe not Sly, but he knows how to deal with his problems. If they even are problems to him.

"Bentley?"

And I thought I was so smart. I could've just left her in ancient Egypt and not bother with her again. But I HAD to erase her memory. It was probably the best decision, but to have her as one of us again? That was my fault. I could've brought her back to jail with an erased memory. That would've been perfect but NO! I HAD to keep her with me. This is ridiculous, and everyone calls ME the smart one in the group. Ha, NOPE! Now look where I am, thinking of her again as if I must for survival.

"Hello?"

Here I am again, blaming myself. Why did I get myself into this? I was fine for almost two weeks. Oops, looks like I'm back to stage one because I was weak enough to go to that picture! If someone can read my thoughts they'd probably think "What a pitiful turtle that is."

It smells like… spring. Cold water has dug its way in the grass and the pollen roams through the air. I can already feel my future sneeze. Odd, my right shoulder feels heavier too.

"Bentley!"

Whoa… how long was I deep in thought for? I almost forgot Isabella was talking to me. "Yeah?"

"I asked how you were, silly!" she giggles. She's in a good mood. "I almost thought my music put you in a trance!" Now she pauses with a little awkwardness. "Err, did it?"

I'm in no trace, because I get this way all the time when I'm thinking of… her. A large sigh leaves my mouth but I feel no relief. "No. It's just…" Think Bentley, think. "Allergies." Bingo. "Just allergies. I'm fine, thank you."

It's quiet again. Could I have possibly shut her out? My mind can't tell what I do to others. I've gotten used to not caring. Oh, why must I keep putting myself down like this, it's completely ludicrous! Hmm, ask her how she is. "And what about you?" I ask, facing the patio.

She mumbles on but I can't hear her. I feel bad. Right now I just want to go to the patio. But spring brings memories. Good… and bad. The scent is almost luring me to the patio. It's like my body craves it. So much happened last spring, which this spring will smell the same. I can already tell, with her face tattooed to my eyes with every whiff. I love her… and hate her. But then- whoa wait what?! My heart jumps before I realize; I heard that name. It's like I'm a little kid reacting to bad words. Did Isabella say her name, or am I just losing it. I probably am, but just to make sure, "What did you say, Isabella?"

She repeats rather quickly. "You're thinking of Penelope," My shell shutters again. "Aren't you?"

How will she act if I say yes? I don't want another talk like Sly gives me about "Oh, you should get over her," or "Oh, she's just a girl. There are better ones out there," and more pointless garbage he calls advice. I never really talked to Isabella about her since the incident. Perhaps she will help? I heard that she did a great job helping Carmelita out when Sly was disappearing. That's insane! Alright, here it goes, I give her one quiet… short… cold…

"…Yes…"

"Do you want to talk about her?" Isabella asks. Wow, I wonder where she gets this from. Sly definitely didn't inherit this. Perhaps this is something I need to get into- therapy. But no, not today. There is no motivator in me anymore. "Not today Isabella, but thank you."

"I'm always here to help. You can talk to me about anything. I know how you feel," Wait, she does? But How? "So talk to me if you just need help on this subject."

Should I think before asking, or…? I'm so curious now. I might as well. "How do you know how this feels? Oh wait a minute…" Oh what's his name again? I can't remember. It's been so long! What is that boy's name? Is it the boy or someone totally different?

"Aaron, yeah," her voice sinks. I knew it!

"You still think of him?" No… she can't. That's not possible. I never noticed any pain within her. Maybe I was too occupied with my own…

"Yes Bentley, I do. Almost every day he at least passes through my thoughts. Other days he is my main thought for the day."

"How can you just stop thinking of him?"

"I can't. It just happens. I just learn to deal with it."

Should I do that? But then there's that same question, how? Should I just accept that Penelope is in my life? Is that what Isabella is doing? "Do you think you'll see him again?"

The raccoon sits at the main table and shows me those eyes. It's like I'm looking in the mirror with those eyes. Why is this happening to us? I get more interested in the person who shares my distraught. Her voice is thick. "I'd like to think so. I mean he left me… I wanted to at least talk to him after he helped us at Vex's lab. I had so many questions but he left before we did. After so many agonizing weeks, I realized that he just used me. But what bothers me is that he still helped me escape, even after what happened. I fell in love with the fake Aaron, not this one. It's hard to just forget everything like he has."

"That is true," my voice speaks out. "It is quite strange that he betrayed us yet helped us. He lost his father to help us too. Quite odd indeed."

Isabella nods silently and closes her eyes. Then she takes a deep breath and speaks again. "Maybe I'll see him again, and maybe we'll start over… If he wants that. I feel mad at him but at the same time I don't want to lose him, or out of my life. He's the first I loved... It really angers me to that he almost kissed me on his last day being the fake Aaron. It gives me these mixed feelings, life if he really cared. But if he cared, wouldn't he have stayed?"

I don't know what to say. These feelings should not exist. No one should over-think things like this. No one deserves a true heartbreak like this. Why are we going through it? Why are we the chosen ones? There must be more people like us, right? I know nothing of Aaron's whereabouts. Maybe I can help Isabella to take my mind off of some things. And to help her of course. Before I could say another word, she asks me a question.

"So how often do you think about Penelope? Do you think she'll come back?"

Oh boy… this is not a fun question. I want to tell her I don't want to answer, but it wouldn't be fair. She already told me her side. "I've actually gotten better. Now most days she goes through my mind but I avoid it. But some things will make me go in depth with those thoughts."

"You know what I do?"

Already I feel a little better. Isabella is definitely someone I can talk to about this. She receives a nod and she continues. "I don't avoid it. I think of him, yes but I accept it. It makes me less depressed and being depressed stresses me out. You don't need that in life. So just accept that Penelope was a big part of your life. You'll be happier and plus, being involved with the gang and other hobbies will boost that. Like when you won the snowball fight. You were really happy! It will only help."

My chest feels… light. It's warm and loose. It feels so much better. I think I smiled at her. A real smile. I didn't have a real smile for about two months. It's like she just gave me a healing potion. Will this feeling stay? I think that's my decision. Maybe she's right, just accept that Penelope was once in my life and carry on with daily routines, hobbies, and activities. It wouldn't hurt anyway.

"Do you think she will come back?" I look back at her eyes and my smile went away. That doesn't mean I feel worse though.

"I hope so and maybe she will. Someday. What do you think?"

My eyes watch her bite her lips. Eh, that doesn't look good. "Yes," she says. "But I'm not sure if she would come back as your lover or even friend. Judging from her past, it's a possibility history will repeat itself and she will return as a villain. It's just a guess, but I think she will return. I don't know when."

"Huh…" Huh… I never thought of that. It is a possibility. I have a lot to think about- and actually be okay with it. I never noticed that Isabella already started walking to her room.

"Anyways," she turns to me and smirks. "I believe you need some time to yourself. I'll just play a few tunes on my piano. There may be some things you want to remember before you decide to make this change." What is she saying? She winks at me and glances at my hand before she goes in her room. In that hand happens to be the picture. The picture of Penelope and me together in Holland after she taught me how to fly a biplane, back when she was my girlfriend. That raccoon is just as sly as Sly. My lips warm up again. I'm smiling.

I move back to the patio, where I see buds and fresh grass. The warm sun-rays heat the water from this morning's rain. My nose takes a deep inhale of this fresh but humid air. Spring. Now the music. The only thing that's missing is the wind blowing hard on my face.

"C'mon, it's the first day of spring!" says a passionate mouse. She almost drags her beloved boyfriend across the pavement. Bentley from the retired Cooper gang and the jumpy girl next to him have been dating for almost a year now, and they run (or get dragged) on the land they met each other for the first time. "You have to fly! You must!" she giggles.

The turtle's head sinks in his shell and tucks his arms inside, which make Penelope's eyes roll. "I'm not proceeding on hauling you AND your wheelchair to the plane, so let's make this easier." At that very spot she unbuckles the straps and Bentley feels himself rising. Her hands can almost feel the anxious vibrations through the shell. Bentley's shell is being carried as if it was a baby in Penelope's arms; his body slumping back and forth in the shell with every fastened step she makes.

Suddenly, she stops. Perhaps she has given up? Maybe she changed her mind? As much as Bentley didn't like being thousands of feet from the ground, he was also a little excited to fly a biplane. With Penelope.

Magnified eyes peek out from the shell and he sees himself one foot away from the propellers. This is the plane. The biplane of the Black Baron, only it wasn't his. It was Penelope's. This brings back a lot of memories, even though it was only months ago. Memories, shocking memories.

His small ears detect a high beep and he feels like he's sinking. The more he sinks, the more he actually rises. He could also hear that smug on his girlfriend's face. "We're getting to the top!"

"Penelope," Bentley says in a low yet serene voice as his head pops out. "I'm nervous. I don't know if I should-"

"Oh shut it Bentley!" She giggles. "The only thing that's making you nervous is your own words. You'll do fine!" The elevator stops and the mouse holds him out in front of her, looking deep into his eyes. He's so nervous; his eyes seem to be sweating. "I already taught you all you need to know Bentley; you just need to be confident! I know you have the potential to do amazing things!"

After a while of his numb legs dangling, his head finally nods with a nervous smile and Penelope places him in the back seat. His eyes gaze at her long, golden blonde hair shadowing Penelope's movement. The rest of the world is a blur except for that body sitting in front of him. For a while he just watches; her back, hair, small figure, and perfect outfit to her perfect shape. He's still lost when she turns back to him; her impatient, gleaming brown eyes digging right into his through her goggles. "Whenever you're ready Bentley," she smiles, and the world becomes clear again. "Just push on the lever, make the plane accelerate, and lift!"

The turtle slides his goggles to cover his face. He flips the silver switch and the engine cries. Bentley's hand trembles violently, no matter how hard he tried to keep control. It was as if he was a massaging chair that just got plugged in, and won't stop. Sweat almost soaks through his gloves as he forces his right hand to the red lever. "Calm down," he hears. "You can do this." "Believe in yourself." "Do it for me."

The last command did it. Without thought he slightly pushes the red lever up. Because of that the engine roars louder and the propellers cut the air in front of him. Wheels below him crawl their way slowly down the descending track, and Penelope turns back. "Good!" She yells over the engine. "Now, GRADUALLY accelerate!"

Clear beads roll off of Bentley's forehead as he pushes further, a little too far. Air blows too hard against his reptile face and air is sucked out of his lungs. He's frozen.

Her face shoots at him again, but this time with despair. His natural reaction is to hide in his shell, but her eyes made of pure fear pierces through his nervous system. He can't stop the plane now, or it wouldn't stop completely in time before crashing into a shed. He can't slow down the plane on land; it's too hard. Everything is going by too fast, and Bentley can't focus. His heart runs faster than the plane; and he's getting to the edge of the ramp.

"BENTLEY!" she shrieks with uneven breathing. That doesn't help him. Not at all. He's not looking at her, he's ashamed. It has come to an end and it is his entire fault. He would have to live with the outcome of this disaster, if he even makes it. He knew he couldn't do it. What will Sly and Murray react about this? Their best friend: dead. Or in a coma. Not that they already suffered through deaths, but it would obviously affect them negatively. The news would get to Sly somehow, even though he has "amnesia." He would probably regret that decision, possibly blame himself, or mourn for the rest of his new life. But Murray… by the way Murray reacted to Bentley's injury, he can only IMAGINE what Murray would go through. It would be his fault he would affect his friends like that, or so he feels. But for Penelope…

His eyes dared to look at her, and his heart weeps. But something changes, a flush flooding his body, especially his arms. He watches her in anxiety. She can't control it, but he can. And he will. He watches the frightened little girl, and every fiber of his muscles twitch. Twitch and twitch, shake and shake, scream and scream… pull and pull…

The plane leaves the ground, but still hangs low. At a rate like this, the plane will have a vicious kiss with that windmill. Not good enough. Bentley's heart races on a treadmill. He feels he's not going anywhere, but we won't stop it from running. Not now.

He pulls harder on the yoke. Now he has two current fears; possibly breaking the yoke, and crashing into that windmill. The plane rushes closer to the windmill and so does Penelope's heart to a heart attack. The plane can't be slowed down now, for it will fall lower. The fight needs to continue. Bentley can feel his heart mountain-climbing up his throat, and his stomach nauseous. It's either from this life-or-death situation, or from the loads of adrenaline. Or both.

A scream shoots out of Penelope's mouth, a scream Bentley hoped to never hear from her, especially if it's because of him. For that exact same time, a jolt forces his arms to lift the plane higher. He didn't do it for himself, but for the timid little girl in front of him. Her life is in his hands. Bentley forces more than his body weight on the yoke but the plane is too close to the windmill. Three feet away, and the mouse closes her eyes with a cry.

Bentley's jaw has never clenched together so hard before. He howls, feeling a wide vibration in his throat as he pulls harder and…

The plane's tail pecks its lips on the very tip of the windmill. A very soft kiss, and then the plane soars. Penelope opens her eyes to the haystacks that surround the farm below her. A loud gasp comes from her and Bentley continues to lift the plane. Water from her eyes dry up quickly and she lets out a sharp laugh. "Ha-ha!" She looks down. They just cheated death, or perhaps won a fair game against it. Bentley finally breathes once he makes it to the perfect height. He did it. The air picks up his lips. Not only that, but seeing Penelope's flushed yet gleeful face aid his smile. "You're doing it!" she laughs. "You're flying!"

Bentley blinks at her and stutters. "I-I am! I am!"

"Slow the plane down a little!"

The turtle is confident. Slowing down the biplane, he realizes that he's no longer afraid of heights. In fact, he couldn't be more grateful to be in the air than nearly crash less than a minute ago. He laughs halfheartedly as he passes the hotel. Penelope can see a rainbow field further ahead- her favorite field. She turns back at him. "Try to get to ground level," she yells over the gusts of winds and the shouting engine. "But don't land!"

Replying with a nod, he sinks lower to the ground. He looks back and forth between her hair dancing in the wind and the ground. Suddenly, the ground was no longer made of grass or hay, but tulips. Thousands of them. They paint the ground yellow, green, pink, purple, and orange. The tiny dots become larger, becoming more life-size, and he tries so hard not to sneeze.

He slows the plane but stay at ground level with nothing in their way. Penelope reaches to pick a tulip, sniffs her purple flower and looks at Bentley. The engine is quieter, or at least gentler. Her face is just… beautiful. It almost takes his breath away. But not yet.

She sticks the flower stem in her thin blonde hair and carefully crawls back to his seat. He tries to remain calm, for she could easily fall off. What was she doing?! This is insane of her! The plane is still flying! Why is she-

Kissing… Bentley…

Their first kiss in the most thrilling and crazy way. Pure happiness. This must be what love feels like.

The music stops and Bentley's vision fades back to the present gloomy spring sight. Without Penelope. It's back to reality.

With one more sniff of the same spring air, his top and bottom eyelids of each eye meet each other. When he exhales, he sings "Please come back, Penelope." Inhale. "Please come back, my darling…"

The last painful exhale.

*This chapter was fun to make. I should do first person and flashbacks more often. Ehh whatever. Recently I've been getting into Drarry fanfictions (Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy ship) and I absolutely LOVE IT! I'm thinking about making a fanfic after this book. No worries, I will work on both the third book to this series and the Harry Potter fanfic (if I'm still interested in it by then). But the third book in the Sly Cooper series come first! It will! It must! :D What do you guys think? Are there any Potterheads out there? Anyways, please review and Chapter Thirty-Five will come out soon. Six more chapters to go!*