Chapter Thirty-Six: Seven Months

Every cell in his body is in the mood to fall into a deep sleep. Every muscle fiber squeals in exhaustion with every step he makes inside the hideout. His vision and hearing have never been so blurry and negligent. For a light-weighted animal, he feels like he's dragging fifty-pound weights with each of his ankles. The new heist just around the corner and Sly's energy is completely drained.

Not only is he exhausted, he's also lightheaded; so lightheaded that it feels like his neck is intentionally punching his head away from it. It's quite annoying actually, more to his eyes. Every time Sly is lightheaded, he can't help but feel a throbbing squeeze deep within his pair of brown eyes. Adding to the fatigued recipe, he possesses bloodshot eyes and large bags under his eyes. Well, larger and darker than normal. These bags seem to also weigh him down. With his discolored and messy fur, and eyelids only able to open halfway, people can easily mistake him for a roaming zombie. The only thing he is missing is shambolic fashion, blood and guts splattered on his face, and occasional grunting. Actually, scratch that last one.

The only person he discovers in the hideout is his very own little sister, playing drums on the main table with a pen while her other hand is busy holding a book to her face. He observes her sitting there; her foot bobbing to every beat the pen makes. Both movements make a different rhythm but same tempo. Over her own hum vibrating her teeth, she doesn't notice her brother entering the hideout. It's the day of the heist and Murray and Bentley aren't even here. This isn't new to Sly, for Murray was known to visit the gym every other day. As for Bentley, well he doesn't seem as distant as he used to be. But he's still not here right now.

Another groan escapes out of his throat as he plops himself in the chair across Isabella. Her eyes leave the ink-filled pages. That finally caught her attention. "Sly?" she drops her book. Before that happened her eyes went from peanut-size to the size of a marble. "Um, no offense but you look dead."

He gives her a weak smile. "Oh no, what gave it away?"

"And… why didn't you come in through the patio doors like you normally do? You hate coming in through the front door." Nothing. Not even an indication he heard the question. Instead, Sly's eyes rolled back and closed. She knew his light breathing now would turn into intruding snores in just minutes. But why? It was only twenty after four! "Alright," she rolls her eyes and improves her posture and nudges Sly. "What's going on?"

Sly referred this moment to his mom, how when she told him to get out of bed. He was like every normal kid; groaning, whining, tossing and turning with that 'I don't want to' phrase. From looking at her serious face (that she most likely inherited from her mother), he knows he'll have to spill it out.

"It's just…" Nothing, like he's been telling himself all month. It's just nothing. It's more effort to think about it and sum it all up in one sentence, or is it? Sly looks at his sister again, she's waiting. Her eyebrows tell no lie when they almost touch her hairline. She wants an answer, and her brother knows there's no way out. He can't fight her concern or curiosity.

Sly stiffens and chokes on the reason. He feels bad for saying it, but it's only right to give Isabella the truth. "Carmelita."

Isabella's expression doesn't change. How could she act if that was nothing? "And? What about her Sly?"

"Well…" he makes her wait again. At this point his wife would've said something to get to the point, but his sister was more patient, more calm, more understanding. Here it goes. "She… She keeps waking up at random times of the morning -the part of morning no one wants to wake up at- and bothers me for food." Good start, he thought. But there's still no reaction from Isabella. Finally, here's a person to talk to without some dramatic reaction. "I know that's normal for a pregnant woman, but this seems a little different from what I know. She's always moving and never comfortable- and blames me for it!"

He paused again; he's obviously used to interruptions, not having enough to say, or negative reactions. All he receives is a nod, and boy was Sly relieved to get that. His eyes leave hers when he states his concluding sentences. "I just don't understand, I thought women were happy when pregnant; or at least sometime during it. But Carmelita… she's never happy. Since day one she never wanted to do much with me or show one spark of happiness. Could that be normal? If so, I want the baby out as fast as he or she can. I don't want this, and I feel something is wrong. I hope the reason isn't because-"

Sly couldn't even bear to think. She couldn't possibly be mad or upset for having a baby. Could this mean she doesn't want the baby? Sly's heart aches, for this little tiny being is a mixture of two who in fact love each other. Who wouldn't love that, or who could ever be mad at that? These thoughts of her not wanting the child, not loving him or her, or being miserable that she will be a mother is completely maddening to Sly. It's enough to bring tears to his eyes in front of someone. Normally he keeps things to himself, but thoughts like these…

Surely there's another reason, Sly insists. He can't break down in front of his sister. He doesn't break at all like that.

Isabella nods as if she read Sly's mind. Surely she can control it, but read it? Impossible. "I see what you mean," she starts. "So it seems like Carmelita is more negative; more bothered and irritated compared to the average pregnant woman. There seems to be something else bothering her and it's not just her raging hormones. You think there could be something else. Am I correct?"

The master thief hesitates for a second, but everything he heard is true. He nods and she continues. "Alright. First of all, this is Carmelita we are talking about. I hope you, being the father to her child and being her fiancé, know her better than I do. From what I experienced, Carmelita is hot-headed and stubborn. She always is. You should've thought this over before proposing to her-"

"I still love her!" he barges in. "I fell in love with her fierce personality, andmaybeherlookstoo, but nothing will change that. However… I wouldn't mind if she could be happier about… this."

"Of course, let me finish." Another long and silent pause occurs, and Sly notices a small boredom in her tone. "I didn't say that you didn't love her. I'm just putting the terms of her personality into thought. Now, it might not be that, but it could also be something is bothering her. Perhaps she's not happy with the pregnancy; and yes a lot of women get unhappy for it could be unplanned. Maybe she's worried about being a mother, or having a baby in an abnormal domestic family like yours. A cop for a mom and a thief for a dad? That could be a lot to go through. It's very complicated and maybe she feels it's not right for the baby to live in.

"Nevertheless, you can't assume any of these reasons to be the answer. You must talk to her about it. This obviously bothers you and you wouldn't like her negativity. Do a favor for yourself and her and talk to her. Maybe she actually does enjoy her pregnancy but it feels disconnected with you. Talk to her to make sure Sly. Calm communication is healthy for a relationship; especially your relationship that will include an addition."

Sly doesn't know what to say. This makes sense but it's not easy to talk to Carmelita without her having some grudge on him. Not recently at least. But he wants this to work, he wants Carmelita to be happy and be willing to share parenthood with him. He wants her to be positively involved, not her negative actions. It's affecting him and it certainly will affect the baby if this continues. Sure, he wasn't really ready to start a family just yet but to have a child of his own with the one he loves is worth to have as a future. He must comfort, love up on, and talk to his wife soon. Not too soon though, he does have luck with making her mad. He needs time to think of what to say.

The raccoon makes a weak smile to his sister, which makes her smile. "Thank you Izzy."

"No problem," she giggles. "But if I were you, I would worship things with you and Carm now. You think it's tiring and stressful? Wait 'til you have the kid!"

"Oh no…" he moans, but smiles woozily. "I can't wait, don't get me wrong. But… from what Dad told me, I was a terror toddler. If my child inherits that, I'm toast."

Isabella gives a teasing smirk. "What if it's a girl and she's A LOT like her mother?"

"OH GAWD NO! NO!" Sly's head slams against the table and Isabella snorts a hacking laugh. "The world would end, or perhaps revolve the other way and start chaos! Utter chaos!" Isabella continues to cackle uncontrollably, and seeing this makes Sly chuckle with her. "Poor Sly!" she would cry out. After a long minute of pure laughter (and so much lung beatings), Isabella finally settles down; wiping her tears. "Yeah ha-ha," she sniffs. "Just call me if you need any babysitting. Or just hand the baby to the gang when you want some days with Carm alone. We're always here to help."

"I know that," Sly grins. "You guys are the best, and I know you will make a fantastic Aunt."

Isabella's cheeks blossom with red warmness and she breaks eye contact. Her nervous smile doesn't last. How implausible can a happy feeling drop to a low temperature in just a finger snap. "How do you think Mom and Dad would react to this," Isabella's voice sounded lost and deserted, which really changed Sly's mood. "If they were still here…?"

Sigh. "You know something Izzy?" She looks at him, biting her lip. "I believe that Mom and Dad are still living, but within us. I don't like to think they are completely gone. Their DNA and heredity live inside us, and my heart holds their memories. They have impacted our lives radically. So just because they aren't alive doesn't mean they aren't here."

Her lips glide to the side, so she's not all that convinced. "But I know what you mean," he continues. "I'd like to think, if they were still alive, that they would be extremely excited. This would make them grandparents, and our mom… Oh, our mom would be so enthusiastic that I would have a child of my own with a woman I love! Dad would be more than proud that I am continuing the Cooper name- and the thievery blood of course." Sly catches himself smiling like a complete idiot, but he doesn't care. Thinking about his parents right now is more of a happy thing rather than sad.

"I like to think that they always watch me, watch us. They are smiling right now, knowing that I have succeeded in both a relationship and continuing the Cooper family line. They see how well the gang is doing, how beautifully you have grown, and I have the slightest reason that we found each other was because of their guidance. They are the voices that speak in our heads and the shadows behind us. Soon, we'll see them again. You'll be meeting Dad for the first time! Everything would be wonderful. Till then, they watch over us. At least, that's what I'd like to think. Those are the thoughts that keep me going."

"Sly…" she whispers. "That's beautiful."

Suddenly Sly felt more awake. Maybe it was the negativity he was tired of. "And I would take my little thief so many places, with the entire gang and all! I would protect him or her with my life, but never… never… would I ever leave the kid as an orphan. I'll do whatever it takes to prevent that. It's a terrible experience, but I was lucky to find some life-changing friends. Even though I know I have the gang, I never want my child to go through that type of stress like I did."

Just before Isabella can say another word, Bentley enters the hideout with a smile that smudges against his glasses. "Alrighty gang! Who's ready to get going with another heist?"

He sounded like one of those overly-excited daycare employees, which gave the siblings a few giggles. The turtle pulls out his blueprints and checks them more than Santa checks his naughty and nice list and looks back at the eyes staring at him. "Murray is on his way back from the obvious. Until then, Mexico will have to wait!"

Bentley goes on and on about how he was so excited to finally go to Mexico, how he'd rather visit during La Dia de los Muertos, and how he has already mastered Spanish. Soon Murray would join in and share the excitement. The sleepy raccoon smiles, it's good to be home.

*Four more chapters, I'm excited for the last one! I'm also so impatient to make the Drarry fanfiction, I'm sorry, Harry and Draco are just perfect! Thank you all who have reviewed (mainly GoldenAlpha101, you rock!) and guys, is there anything I can improve on so I can be better with my third book of this trilogy and Drarry fanfiction (and future fanfics as well)? Please tell me something, even if it's just saying I'm doing okay now. Aside from that, FOUR MORE CHAPTERS!*