Hey everyone,
This chapter is mostly going to focus on Sly proving to himself that he is back, Sly reuniting with his friends and Sly waking up Carmelita. To be honest, I imagined two of these three scenarios to play out in many various ways before I decided on something that I think can work out just fine. Also, what do you guys think of this new writing style of mine? I am trying to cut down the amount of speech per paragraphs.
You like,

Venquine1990

Chapter 02
The Reality Of Coming Home

26th of November 2013
Cooper Hide Out, Paris
Sly's POV

I just don't know what to think. So many times I have dreamed of my friends finding me and taking me back home, only for me to wake up back in one of the three structures I have been living in these past seven almost eight years. Yet the events of the last half hour have been both similar to what I usually dreamed off and different at the same time. Because of this, I have trouble discerning whether or not I'm dreaming again this time.
The woman named Mariah, the fact that Clockwerk broke his routine, the Time Tunnel and the news about my son and Carmelita's state of health had all been factors that I connected to the idea that this was all real. And the sight of the garage, which looks familiar but has a few new additions to it, further helps to emphasize this belief. Yet I remember so many dreams that would start with me arriving in this garage that I'm still unsure.

"I'm sorry, I have to be sure." I mutter to the woman next to me. The honey and amber brown furred badger looks to be at least a decade older than me and she is incredibly understanding of me. There is no sense of offense on her face, she just nods in understanding. I step out of the van and just the touch of my paw on the cold granite floor further strengthens my belief that I am really back. "Temperature never mattered in my dreams."
I think to myself, but I still remember plenty enough dreams where it felt like I was in full control of the situation. Yet each time, upon my arrival in my dreams, I would turn left after leaving the van. Because of this, I turn to stare into the hallway that leads up to the hide out for a few minutes, before I turn around. I pull the hood off of my robe and open the door that is set into the garage door. Instantly the cold hits me in the face.

A freezing cold wind blows across the hide out and after the last half a decade of steaming heat and burning sunlight, I feel like I stepped into a freezer. Yet this cold makes tears gather in my eyes as it feels as familiar to me as my own fur. I feel tears running down my face as I step outside and stare around me. I am standing in the middle of a huge garden that has a mixed flooring, one half being stone bricks that run down the road in clear lines.
The other half is either grass, weeds that are coming out between the bricks of the road or a few trees that are standing on the sides and in the corners of the garden. There is a small tunnel on the other side of the garden and I remember that Murray and I painted the inside of that tunnel pure black to increase the shadows and keep people from being able to look in. I sniffle at the memory as it's one I haven't thought of in years.

I turn my head and my grin widens as I notice that there are still two old-fashioned drain pipes on both sides of the garage. Both drain pipes are set away from the wall by a few inches and I remember training my climbing abilities on them a few times after we moved to Paris when I was only seventeen years old. I pull my cane from my back and jump up. I grab hold of the drain pipe on the right with both hands and set my feet against the wall.
The feeling of the metal between my hands and the brick wall against my feet almost makes me feel like the last seven years never happened. It feels like I was never lost to the sands of time or the sands of the Ancient Egyptian dessert. I close my eyes tightly as I can almost feel all of the emotional and physical pain that I have been through over the years wash off of me, as if my pain is draining out of me with my tears.
I wipe my eyes dry and then I pull my cane off my back. I put it between my teeth and instantly I feel even more like I did when I was only 22 years old. I start to climb and only then I take notice of everything around me. And everything else that is going on in the city around me makes me feel even happier and makes more tears drip down my eyes. There are not just smells that I haven't scented in years, but also sounds I haven't heard.

The sounds of so many cars riding down the street, the sounds of people walking down concrete sidewalks, the sounds of late night store doors opening and bells ringing in the distance. And the sounds of so many people talking, laughing, some even singing or shouting at each other is so incredibly different from the sounds of the small encampment near my living quarters of the last seven years, yet I can't help but love it.
But then, just when I am on about the second floor, my foot slips. I gasp and instantly grab onto one of the parts of the drainpipe that connects the pipe to the wall. I also bite down on my cane just to make sure it doesn't fall. I dangle for a moment and quickly set my feet back against the wall as I think: "Heh, guess I'm a little out of practice." Yet a second later, my eyes widen and I think: "I – I said the same thing when this all began."

I shake my head and continue to climb. A few more floors and I reach the roof, which is flat with a low row of spikes set around the edge. I easily climb over this and turn around. And the first thing I see as I do takes my breath away, just like it always does. Huge and towering and made of metal. The Eifel Tower is still as impressive, massive and awe-inspiring as it did all those years ago. And as I star at it, I can almost imagine myself crouching on the top and looking out over the rest of the city, just like I used to do so long ago.
"Paris, my home. I'm home, my beautiful city of lights and love. Sly Cooper is finally home. And I am never leaving you behind again." I softly mutter to myself, as I still feel a slight fear that, if I were to say it too loudly, I would break whatever illusion that I am in. But then suddenly I hear something that makes me wince and bite down on a yell of shocked pain. The next second I realize that the sound is someone loudly playing heavy metal music.

I peek over the edge of the roof and across the building on the other side of the garden, which is two floors lower than the one I am standing on. Behind this row of houses is the French riviera and across from that is another row of apartments. And though it has been years, I still instantly spot the lights that are flashing in different colors across a window on the first floor in the center of this row of apartment buildings.
I grin widely at the sight and the sounds and whisper: "You never changed, did you Fred?" And indeed a few minutes later I hear someone slamming their fist against a door and hear a female voice shout loudly and angrily. The distance makes it impossible for me to hear what is being said, yet I don't even care. Instead, I just put my cane back between my teeth and go back to sliding down the drainpipe and down to the ground.

"Do you feel better, Mr. Cooper?" Mrs. Barkley asks me as I arrive and while I try to suppress shivers at the temperature difference, I again wipe my tears from my face and out of my fur. "In my dreams I never went up there. I would always instantly head in and just stay indoors. Even when I was in control of my dreams, I never did anything to prove to myself that I wasn't dreaming. I just accepted the situation and tried to make the most of it.
Sometimes I would be stuck in such a dream for two hours before I would wake up again." The woman looks at me shocked and even slightly horrified. Then suddenly, before I can do more than detect movement, something small and purple attacks me. I fall down onto one of the grassy patches and look down at the small purple blur that is now wrapped around me. My eyes widen and I whisper with a broken voice: "Guru."

The old little koala with the red head band, markings on his face, tan-colored loincloth and the wooden stick is happily brabbling away in his native tongue, yet I also notice that some of his words are actually English instead of Australian. My heart skips a beat as this feels like more evidence, not just that I'm really back, but also of the fact that many years have passed since I was lost to this place. And then I realize something else. I grab Guru and lift him so that we are on eye level as I almost beg him: "I'm not dreaming, right?"
The Dreamtime Master grins at me while tears run down his face and he shakes his head and says: "No, Leader is back. Leader has been found at last." At these words I happily pull him back into another teary hug. Yet the sensation of the winter's wind that is still blowing through the garden is now mixed with the cold dirt beneath the grass and the concrete that my feet are still standing on. I shiver at all these sensations.

"Oh goodness, of course! There is a huge difference between winter in France and Egypt. Good grief, Mr. Cooper, you must be freezing out here. Quickly, let's get you back inside." Mrs. Barkley exclaims as she helps me up by the arm. Yet as I get up, I keep my other arm wrapped tightly Guru as I don't want to let go off him just yet. Guru senses this and he wraps his little arms around my neck a little tighter as we head back inside.
Yet just before the door closes behind us, a loud claxon of a truck honks from a few streets away. The loud screech of the horn is almost like Clockwerk when he screeches before he dives down to kill an innocent creature or even a fellow raccoon. I exclaim in pain at the sound and use my free hand to clamp down on one of my ears.

"MR. COOPER!""LEADER!" Mrs. Barkley and Guru exclaim, yet this only hurts even more. "My senses. My senses sharpened greatly over the years. That claxon just sounded like Clockwerk screeching in my ear." The two wince and both of them apologize while Mrs. Barkley quickly closes the door behind us. The door is closed and instantly all sounds of the city behind it stop. I sigh in relief and smile at them both.
"Are you okay?" Mrs. Barkley asks and the care in her voice feels like a balm to the pain I was just in. I nod and mutter: "Sorry about that. I've learned to deal with pain, but it's been a while since I've experienced hearing something so loud. The only real sounds you hear in the dessert are camels when bandits ride on them, bandits yelling and screaming when they find a target and of course merchants trying to sell their wares.
I've heard Clockwerk screech several times over the years, but I always made sure that there was a large distance between us. He usually screeched if he went for a defenseless raccoon or another small kind of animal that inhabited the dessert." I sigh at the end and think: "The amount of times that I wanted to fight him off to protect those raccoons and couldn't. The amount of times I realized I couldn't take the risk."

The two look at me worriedly and I mutter: "I better get myself a quick bit of medicine before I get a headache and then wake the others up. Let them know that I'm back." The two nod at me and I ask Guru if there is still a medicine cabinet in the kitchen. The little Koala nod in confirmation and the fact that this hasn't changed makes me smile. I head back to the hallway I spotted earlier and take the staircase down into the basement.
Yet again I get even more evidence that things have mostly stayed the same as the hallway looks just like it did almost ten years ago. Yet as I look closer, I notice that there are small differences from so long ago. There are a few blocks missing, a few blocks seem to have been replaced by new ones and suddenly I even notice that there is a transparent cable running through the hallway and that the stone staircase has a few chips missing.

We reach the living room and I instantly think: "It's the same – and yet not." It shocks me to see that the two chairs that Bentley and I used to sit in and the couch that Murray loved lounging on are still in the near center of the room. The same can be said for the wooden coffee table that is missing a leg and that has several comics and other books to keep it steady stacked in a glass case underneath the left back corner of the table.
The wooden dinner table that I usually read the paper on is still there and is next to a bench with a weight bar and a small bar that has all kinds of technological things set on top of it. I easily notice that the television is still being hidden behind a huge portrait and the fact that it's still one of Bentley, Murray and myself standing together brings new tears to my eyes. Yet I also notice that everything else has changed quite drastically.
And yet the biggest change is that there are lots more new tables and that they are all covered to the brim with papers, newspapers that look decades olds, scrolls, old photographs and portraits, all kinds of knickknacks and other objects and several notebooks that are all strewn across every available surface. Even a couple of the new chairs and lounge chairs that are set around the room are stacked full with these things.

"All evidence of how hard the others were trying to find me. They really never stopped trying to find me." I think to myself and suddenly a huge surge of guilt overwhelms me. I had expected this and yet it still tears at me. I try valiantly to stall my breakdown and think: "I have to wake them up. If I wake them up, I can apologize. I can apologize for giving up on them. I can apologize for the fact that I stopped waiting on them to find me."
These thoughts help me keep myself calm and strong and I carefully move through the living room over to the kitchen. To my amazement, there is hardly anything new or different here. The only addition I spot is that there are more chairs set around the dinner table on the right of the room. I smile at this and then quickly pluck a pill against upcoming headaches from the medicine cabinet. I head back into the living room and nod at Mrs. Barkley.

A second later the song that I haven't heard in so long plays again and I smile before I start to sing the first real verse. I am standing in the doorway of the hallway that separates the kitchen from the living room. On my right is a staircase that leads up to the ground floor. On this floor are several bedrooms and I know that my singing is currently reaching these. In particular I try to reach out to my two closest friends, my brothers, as I sing.
Bentley and Murray, if things are still the same, have their bedrooms on the floor at the top of the staircase while the other, younger members of the Cooper Gang used to have their bedrooms on the floor above that. The presence of Guru makes me feel hopeful that perhaps Dimitri and Panda King are also present. That they too will be able to hear me sing. And as the song goes into the second verse of taking in and finding, I hear it.

Two pair of footsteps and a set of wheels that are being rolled across a wooden floor with a carpet lying over the wood. I turn my head and look up just as the song describes the sun and my own heart feels like it bursts with light when I see them. A turtle in a wheelchair with a light stubble on his chin and very short spikes on top of his head, who is seated in a highly advanced looking wheelchair and who wears very thick-looking glasses.
A hippo that looks to have lost most of the weight that naturally comes with his specie and who seems to have traded all of that for incredible muscle, who has a military style haircut. And finally my eyes tear up as I see a young raccoon boy stand with them, who has orange and tan-colored fur and who has incredible chocolate brown eyes that have a hint of amber in them. All three of them are staring at me with wide eyes and jaws slack.

My throat constricts in on itself, yet I keep on singing as I now feel desperate to convince them that I'm back. And to my heartfelt delight, my own son is the first to recover right as I start to sing the chorus. He rushes for me and I instantly take inspiration from the song I am singing and the movie it belongs to. I reach down and tuck my hands tightly underneath his arms before I lift him into the air and spin on my axis with him in my arms.
And all the while I keep singing and this seems to convince my friends. "SLY!""YOU'RE BACK!" The two of them scream at the top of their lungs as they rush for me. And Bentley's incredible boosters attached to his wheelchair make him reach me before Murray does. I have my son close against my chest and his head tucked underneath mine as Bentley actually throws himself out of his wheelchair and encases my legs.

And when Murray pulls all three of us off the floor and into a huge bear-like group hug, I finally stop singing as my emotions just get the better of me. I pull one arm loose from my son and wrap it tightly around my turtle brother as he cries against my legs. At the same time I hide my face in Murray's shoulder as he cries on mine. The two ramble and make all kinds of exclamations, but I can hardly understand any of them.
This is partially because my son is also crying tears of loving joy and most of my focus is on him and the fact that I am holding him in my arm and against my form. Another reason is because I myself am also rambling and the three of us all trying to speak and exclaim out at once makes anything we say completely incomprehensible. Yet I don't care for this and only care for the fact that I am finally back after seven long years.

I only vaguely notice that Mariah has stopped playing the song, but that's only because for a short moment the background is completely silent. That silence is broken quickly, however, by another shout. "CRACKERBOX!" And it's just that one single word that makes me feel as if my face is going to ache from how widely I am grinning. I look up and new tears stream down my face when I see my disco-loving iguana friend, Dimitri.
And what's even better is that Panda King is standing with him alongside a woman I don't really recognize. Yet then I spot that she is also a Panda and that she looks younger than Panda King and instantly I realize who it is. "Ying King, Panda King must have moved her here to keep her safe while he helped my friends find me. She probably took care of Carmelita while she was in coma." And this thought reminds me of a painful truth.

"Sly! I – I don't – how – who – wait, Mariah? Did you bring Sly home? Did you find him? Why didn't you tell us?" Bentley rambles and my two friends step away from me. Though they only take a single step away and I smile at them as I can easily understand why. They don't want to be too far away from me, because they fear I might vanish from sight if they do. I then turn my focus on one of the two things that really matter.
The little raccoon boy that is cuddling close against my chest. My heart almost breaks at the sight of the tears that are stuck in his fur, yet my heart melts at the sight of the happy and content smile on his face. "Let me have a look at you, my son." I whisper and I feel my heart both burst and melt at the same time as I speak those last two words. I crouch down and put my son down before stepping away just enough I can hold him at arm's length.

And instantly I can see it. Sylvester, when it comes to his fur color, is absolutely Carmelita's son and his eyes are the same beautiful chocolate brown color as hers. But while he has his mother's eyes and fur, the fur around his eyes is already greying and taking on a mask-like shape to block the harsh sunlight from his eyes. I look over his shoulder and grin as his tail is striped, yet it's not black and grey like mine, but black and tan.
All in all, my son looks absolutely incredible and I feel my heart break at the fact that I missed almost six years of his life. But then I take another look at him and just his hopeful and happy shining eyes remind me of something. I pull my son close against my form again as I lift him up in my arms. Sylvester happily wraps his arms and legs around my form and I feel tears gather in my eyes at how brilliantly he fits my form.

"Let's go wake up your mum, my son." My throat clogs up yet again as I whisper the last two words and Sylvester lets out an excited squeal. I blink away tears at this sound and turn to my friends. "I have a son." I whisper at them silently and they grin back at me. Yet while the fact fills me with incredible glee and love, I also feel the guilt grow within me over the fact that I wasn't part of his life for so long at the same time.
I take a deep breath and head into the hallway. My friends take a stand on each side of the hallway and each of them open their arms one at a time. I grin at them and happily hug each of them one more time respectively. Bentley, Murray, Guru, Dimitri, Panda King and even Ying King. And while I hug her, I also whisper: "Thank you for taking care of my family for me." The female panda tenses for a second, but then she whispers: "It was my honor, Sly Cooper."

I gently and happily carry my son upstairs and even without needing to look back, I just know that the others are right behind me. I head into the hallway that just seems to go on and one and that has doors that lead to either bedrooms, bathrooms or supply closets running all the way down. Yet I keep standing in front of the first door on the right. And somehow, even though the door is closed, I just know that she is on the other side, lying and waiting for me.
"How are we doing this, daddy?" Sylvester asks me. I smile at my boy, who actually tries to suppress a yawn. Instantly I feel bad for waking him up and yet his question also brings a concern to mind. I gently set him down again and lovingly grab hold of his shoulders as I say: "I think it's best if I do this myself, son. Your mummy doesn't know that 6 years have passed and she's going to be shocked enough to see me back.

Best if we bring the shocks to her one at a time, alright?" The boy looks down and mumbles: "But I miss her, daddy." I blink away more tears at this as I have no doubt that it's not just Carmelita that this little boy has had to miss for so long. Again the image of Carmelita being heavily pregnant comes up in my mind, my own presence being absent from the image tearing me up with guilt and grief. I take a deep breath and mutter:
"I know, son. I missed her as well, so very much. And I'm not asking you to stay away, just to be patient a few more minutes. Can you do that for me, my little Coon?" And instantly the boy's demeanor changes. He had been looking sad and even dejected, but as soon as he hears my new pet-name for him, his face lights up and he hugs me tightly around the neck. I grin widely at this and feel him nodding his head on my shoulder.

"That's my boy." I whisper in pride and a few seconds later Sylvester lets go of me. Instantly Murray steps up and gently puts his hands on my son's shoulders. I grin widely and thankfully at one of my two closest friends, but when he asks me if I'm okay, it hits me. Without the presence of my friends or son close, my body really feels the missing heat that it has grown used to over the past seven years. I try hard to suppress my shudders.
"I'll go turn up the heater." Mrs. Barkley says as she leaves back down and I send a grateful smile at her retreating back. The others look at me and I mutter the words Ancient Egypt. Instantly all of them understand what is going on and Dimitri hurries over and hands me his bathrobe. I thankfully take the crazy-looking robe that is bright purple with a golden and silver disco ball pattern and then I finally turn my focus where it belongs.

I open the door in front of me and instantly a scent that I have been trying to replicate for the past four years hits my senses. A mix of strawberries, chocolate and spring blossom is all over the room. I can't stop myself from breathing in long and hard, just to try and take in as much as possible of the scent I have missed so much. My eyes tear up and my heart starts to beat faster. Instantly I feel as if the colder temperature I am in no longer matters.
I walk in and only subconsciously push the door behind me so that it ends up standing ajar. And yet my focus lies solely on what is in front of me. My old bedroom has hardly changed in the last seven years. There is an extra wardrobe set against the right wall and a coat hanger is set into the wall on the left of the bed which is set against the left wall. And yet again, just like in the living room, the desk is full of papers and notebooks.

Yet I only vaguely, instinctively, take notice of this as my full focus is on the being that lies on the bed. The azure blue soft cotton blanket that I used to love so much covers most of her from, except for her arms, shoulders, neck and her head. Her wavy blue hair with black highlights is tied in a beautiful braid that is laid across her right shoulder. She seems to be wearing some kind of nightgown with simple black spaghetti straps.
I walk over to the bed and while I know it won't happen, I feel myself silently asking her to respond, to turn her head and open her eyes. Yet this doesn't happen and I reach the bed. I feel my heart ache at how peacefully she lies there and I carefully take a seat on the bed next to her form. And just because a single touch looks like it could break her, I gently lie my hand on top of hers, while in reality I want to pick it up and hold it tightly against my chest.

"Carmelita, my love. Can you hear me? It's me, Sly." My eyes widen as, right as I whisper this, Carmelita's precious lips turn upwards. But then I remember that Mrs. Barkley told me that she would usually respond to recordings of my voice. Still I draw courage and confidence from just that one small sign. I cross the fingers of my right hand with hers and lovingly squeeze her hand. "I'm here, gorgeous. I'm back at last."
Again Carmelita responds. Her head slowly turns itself my way and a happy moan escapes her throat. I blink back tears and instantly feel my confidence strengthening with each of these small signs. And just because her head and face are tilted ever so perfectly I bend down and happily press my lips against hers. Instantly it feels like everything I have suffered through just disappears, as if my pain and hurt and wounds disappear.

I feel just like I did the last time I kissed this ethereal fox, only a few days before I pulled my heist on Le Paradox's museum. And while I had previously been afraid to hurt or break the resting fox, my body responds to what I am doing. I wrap my arms around her sleeping form and don't even care for the blanket that is now wrapped around her whole form. Instead, I pull her with me as I turn my body so that I am lying on my back.
Her form gets pulled on top of mine and for a second I wonder if this was how we laid while we were making love the night I don't remember. Yet I discard this thought and instead I reach for her hair. I pull her braid from where it lies between us and while part of my brain keeps focused on kissing those delectable lips, I undo her braid. A second later I bury my fingers in her hair and start to brush through them, untangling her hair from the braid.

Then oxygen becomes a must and I gently pull her face from mine. It breaks me to realize that, even through all I just did; Carmelita still hasn't woken, even though she did moan while we were kissing. I sigh and feel my heart beat painfully within me. I lie her head down on my chest and while I try to suppress tears, I run my hand through her hair. "Carmelita please. Don't leave me, love. Please wake up. Please, I beg of you.
I'm nothing without you, gorgeous. Life's not worth living without you by my side. Please, I have missed you so much. Please don't do this to me. Don't do this to our son. Think of Sylvester, Carmelita. Please, if not for me, do it for him. Wake up, Carmelita, please. Please, for the sake of our son. Please just wake up. Carme –." By this time I have closed my own eyes and I am just rambling, begging and pleading my beloved to wake up. I don't really take notice of anything other than my own pleading, but then something happens.

Two delicate hands grab the fur sticking out on the sides of my face and a pair of lips forcefully presses themselves against mine. My eyes shoot open wide and I gasp as I realize that Carmelita has indeed woken up and that she is now the one kissing me. New tears stream down my face and I wrap my arms tightly around her waist and pull her even closer against me as I kiss her back. My heart bursts with happiness, love and relief.
Again oxygen lets us know that it's needed and while we both gasp for breath, Carmelita is the first to catch hers. "Sly, you're back! You're finally back! They found you! They actually found you! I – I don't understand! How? How did they –?" Carmelita asks me and I realize that she must be under the impression that she's only slept for a day or so. Because of this I silence her with a gentle finger pressed against her lips.

The fox looks startled for a moment, but then she tilts her head and asks: "Sly, what – what happened to you? And – why are you crying?" I grin at her as it's obvious that she spotted how much I have aged and I whisper: "I aged, gorgeous. It's been seven and a half years. And I'm crying because you were in a coma for the last six and I, for a moment, feared that I wouldn't be able to wake you. That nothing would be able to wake you."
The Fox stares at me with a shocked look on her stunning face. I blink away a few tears and feel them running down my face as I run another hand through her luscious long hair. "How is it possible? How is it possible that, even when you've been sleeping for six years, you still turn out more beautiful than I have ever seen you? More beautiful than you were in any of my dreams." I whisper as I look down at her, the blanket having fallen off her form.

The nightgown that I guessed her to be wearing earlier is ice blue colored and reaches down past her knees. She also wears a pair of ice blue sleeping pants underneath this, though her feet are bare. Carmelita seems to realize how she's dressed and she yelps as she pulls at the blanket again. Yet I playfully grin at her and pull it from her grasp as I say: "You're perfectly decent, my love. And besides, apparently I once saw you naked."
The fox's face heats up, yet I release the blanket with one hand and the smile leaves my face. I cup her cheek with my free hand and whisper: "I'm so sorry, Carmelita. I never meant to push you to take such desperate measures. I was planning to talk with you once the heist was pulled. And please, the explanation as to why I wouldn't do it sooner was meant to be part of that conversation. Please believe me when I say that I really, truly have a valid reason."

Carmelita stares at me and I stare back, my gaze locked with hers and I try desperately through this to convince her and to express to her how I feel about her. After a minute of this, Carmelita sighs and lays her head on my chest. I breathe a sigh of happy relief and Carmelita whispers: "I don't regret that night." I pull at the blanket until it slips out underneath her, allowing for her form to be pressed against my own as I tell her:
"Neither do I. And our son –. Oh, our son. Carmelita, you should see him. He looks so much like you. He is so handsome, so beautiful. His eyes, they are just like yours. They are so beautiful. Everything other than his specie reminds me of you. I never thought – I never imagined – I – I never even dreamed that I would come home to a son, a family. To you. So many times, so many nights. But never to a son.
Oh Carmelita, I can never thank you enough for this. I – I – I –." I falter and rage and hatred course through me for my own inability to finally say the words that I spoke to her statue and in my dreams so many times. But then Carmelita kisses me once again and instantly I respond, determined to show Carmelita how I feel even if I can't say it. Our kiss is short, but passionate. And when we part, Carmelita whispers four words:

"I love you too." And with these four words the dam on my emotions breaks. I pull her entire form close against my own as I cry. Tears stream down my face, my chest heaves with each breath I take, my whole form shudders and shakes and incomprehensible sounds and words escape my throat, along with short bursts of exhilarated laughter. Carmelita giggles for a moment, but then a tiny voice breaks through the madness of my emotions.
"Mummy? Daddy? Can I – can I come in now?" Instantly I stop laughing and rambling and we both turn to the doorway. Sylvester is standing in the light of the hallway behind him and he almost looks to be younger than he really is with how he is nervously shuffling one of his feet. Carmelita gasps at the sight of him and I smile at her before I turn back to my boy. And with a voice full of love, I tell my son to come over here.

The boy rushes at us and while I know that I need the blanket for heat, I pull it off nonetheless. Carmelita also moves herself away a little and Sylvester runs into the space between us. Instantly the both of us wrap ourselves around our son, though I also wrap one loving and comforting arm around my now crying beloved. Sylvester is also crying and my heart breaks at seeing these two beautiful creatures in a state like this.
And so, to reassure and comfort them and to feel their body heat mixed with my own, I pull them both just a little closer against my form. Both of them move and I feel two pairs of arms wrap around my neck. I feel a small raccoon head lay itself on my left shoulder and a fox head lay itself on my right and I lovingly cuddle my nose in both their necks. Carmelita's long hair tickles my nose, but her scent delights me all the more.

And as I sniff at my son, I suddenly realize it. Sylvester smells like cedar wood and chocolate. I remember the many times that Bentley and Murray would tell me that I smell like cedar wood, even when I shower and use scented shower gel and the fact that my son's scent is a delightful mix of my own scent and Carmelita's exhilarates me. Then Carmelita pulls loose from my grip and immediately I miss her delightful warmth.
"Sylvester, come here. Let me look at you, my son." Carmelita gently says and yet Sylvester doesn't pull loose like his mother. Instead of that, he turns so that he is seated in my lap. I lovingly wrap my arms around his lower torso and Carmelita beams at us both. She then studies our son and after a minute or so, she smiles at me as she says: "You were wrong, Ringtail. There is much more of you in him than just your specie."

The love in her tone brings new tears to my eyes and then Sylvester speaks up. "Mummy quick, you need to stay close to daddy. He was in the Egyptian dessert and he's shaking because he's cold. We need to keep him warm, mummy." I try not to turn red at my son's childish logic and Carmelita looks at me worriedly for a moment before her concern gets replaced with loving care. And to my sheer amazement, she agrees with him.
Yet the fox moves off of the bed and for a moment my son lets out a sound of confusion that I share with him. But then Carmelita grabs the blanket again and whispers: "Lie down, Ringtail." Yet I stare at her and while I know that we still have a history together that we need to discuss, I don't care. "Not without you here." I firmly tell her and Sylvester nods in agreement. Carmelita turns her eyes skyward and shakes her head as she says:

"Silly raccoon, I just want to tuck in my two boys before I come and join them, that's all." My eyes widen and I turn to look at my son. Sylvester grins widely at me and I grin back at him before I comply with my beloved's wishes. Sylvester and I crawl down until we are both lying down and Carmelita smiles at us with a sense of love on her face that just takes my breath away. And then she does as said.
She takes the blanket again and pulls it over the both of us. And because she herself has been lying underneath it for so long, I can feel her body heat still being emitted from the fabric of the blanket. Then Carmelita walks around the bed and crawls in herself. And as soon as she herself is under the blanket, I again pull her as close as possible. The fox beams at me and I try to put as much of my love for her in my own smile.

Then I turn to my son and ask: "Tell me, little Coon. Is there any kind of song that you like to listen to before you go to bed?" Sylvester nods and I notice Bentley rolling into the room. He puts a tablet down on the bedside table and I see him winking at me through his thick-glasses. I grin at him gratefully and say: "I'd hug you if I wasn't already so occupied, pall." All of the occupants in the room laugh and Bentley leaves.
"Can I turn it on, daddy?" My son asks and I ponder for a short moment if my heart will ever stop skipping a beat at hearing that term of endearment. But I ignore this and just nod at him. My son crawls over and while I keep a loving arm wrapped around his waist, Carmelita lies her head down next to my shoulder. I send her a short, but loving smile and then turn back to Sylvester. He opens an application I have never seen before, yet he seems to know.

He finds the proper playlist and seems to have little effort in finding the right song. And even in the dark of the night I can read the title of the song before my son presses on it. He also presses on a button on the side of the tablet and this raises the volume. Then, while the first musical tunes play out, Sylvester goes back to cuddle with me with his head laying on top of my chest. I wrap my arm tightly around him and start to sing.
At first Carmelita seems shocked at hearing the quality of my voice, yet I ignore this as I enjoy the fact that I get to sing my son to sleep. Then, as the second line starts, she starts to sing along as well. Instantly I beam at her and she actually grabs my hand just like the song describes. She even pecks me on the cheek after the lyrics When you're … kiss away. Then the chorus starts and at the second line, I put my full heart into the line.

The song goes on about romance and again I put my heart into the line. Carmelita follows this with the line that describes how long can save the day and I see this further reflected through the emotions in her eyes. Then the title is sung again and a few music notes play. Carmelita lays her head on my shoulder as these notes play out and I happily cuddle my face close against hers. Then, in a burst of inspiration, I let her take the next verse.
Carmelita happily goes along with this and sings both lines beautifully. She looks back up at me at the end of the second line that says: "And you see the love in his eyes." And I stare at her with all the love I have been feeling for her for as long as I have known her. The pre-chorus plays again and this time Carmelita lets me sing by myself. And when the song describes a kiss, I peck her on the top of her muzzle before we sing the chorus together.

I spare a quick glance down and my eyes widen as I notice that my son has fallen asleep. Instantly, while Carmelita takes the next bridge verse, I press down on the volume button to lower the volume a bit. Yet at the same time, I can't help but glance from her to my son as I sing the next part of the verse that says There's a whole … just for us. And while the singers of the song raise their voices, Carmelita and I lower ours as we sing.
Carmelita helps me move our son so that he is lying slightly on top of me, slightly besides me. And while I really just want to continue singing, I put the song on pause instead. Carmelita and I smile at each other, but then I turn my head. And to my relief the others are still standing in the doorway and all of them are grinning at us. I grin back at them and I motion for Guru to come over. Carmelita is slightly confused by this and I say:

"I need your help tonight, old friend. I've trained myself to wake up every hour. I'd rather not do that tonight. You think you can help me remain asleep? I'll explain everything in the morning – after I've showered and got rid of living in a sandpit for seven years." Carmelita and Murray laugh at this and Guru happily nods his consent. He uses his incredible power to levitate a chair over and sets it down next to the bed.
I smile at him and turn to Carmelita. The fox grins at me and for a moment, I feel fear overtake me. "Stay?" I quietly ask her. She blinks a few times before she pulls herself close against my form. Or as close as possible with our son still lying on the bed between us. Still, she is close enough I feel her body radiating heat and this combined with the heat of my son's body and of the blanket itself feels comfortingly divine.
"I'm not going anywhere, Ringtail. You're back and I'm never letting you out of my sight again." Carmelita gently tells me. I smile at her and her words as they drive away the short moment of fear that I felt. I hear Guru whispering something behind me and feel the warm sensation from before increasing. I feel it working some kind of magic on my senses and my conscious. I send a short grateful grin at the Koala and fall asleep.

Goodnight Sly,
Next chapter is going to be mostly in Guru's POV. It is also going to cover Sly's time in Egypt and what kept the Cooper Gang from being able to find him. To be honest, this is the one reason I wanted to rewrite True Family. I feel like I tried to make Sly adjust to his return a little too fast. I made it sound as if Sly was back to normal in only a chapter or three, when he had been gone for 8 and a half years, even longer than in this.
So yeah, that's why this story now has Hurt/Comfort as its Genre instead of Crime. I have plans that concern the whole Cop and Robber aspect that Sly and Carmelita lived by for three of the four games, but that's only going to be one of the topics that will be addressed in this story. And to be honest, I really want to focus more on Sly's return, his recovery and him adjusting to the fact that he now has a family.
Let's do this,

Venquine1990