Glad you guys are enjoying my fic! Thank to all my reviewers including the ones for this story and my other Sly fics! So, this chapter features some background on a main character that we haven't gotten a chance to really hear from in this fic!

Thanks again to Dragon and Sword Master for his betaing prowess!

Your hints for this chapter: There is 1 Easter Egg in this chapter. It is a song reference.

Disclaimer: Sly Cooper and other related characters are formerly the property of Sucker Punch, inc. and currently the property of Sanzaru, Inc. except for Beatrice Montreal, Bryan Moliere, Desiree Mallery, Desiree Monroe, Nautica Macavity, Aubrey Lancaster, Ann Monret, Armand Jaeger, Phillip Dumont, and Claire Bennet which all belong to me. Carmen Fox, Carlos Diego Fox, Kitty Petro, and Ling Chu belong to Kitty Petro.

Season 1: "When Strangers Meet"

Arc 2: "Cast Adrift"

Episode 6:

An Injured Body

Back at Beatrice's House...

"Well, at least Shaun's condition hasn't deteriorated anymore," sighed Beatrice on the other end of the phone. The turtle did not contradict her. Right now, all the Cooper Gang could do was be thankful for that particular news; that things had not gotten any worse.

"Yeah, well, we should keep this conversation short in case someone has managed to place a trace on it," advised the turtle. Beatrice said goodbye and hung up. Bentley hung up the prepaid cell he was using, and groaned aloud as his head dropped into his hands. Bentley had not felt this hopeless, and depressed, since being left alone in the Indian Jungle. Things had not been going well for the Cooper Gang since that damn jungle job. Then again, statistically, this was par for the course for them. The Cooper gang operated on ten percent preparation, twenty percent skill, fifteen percent will, five percent pleasure, and on fifty percent sheer dumb luck! As much as they courted luck, she was a fickle friend. She would stick around during spring and summer, but come winter and fall, she would vacate the premises and leave a massive bill behind and take the payment from their very hides. After the luck they had been having the last few years, Bentley just knew that eventually the bill was going to be due in full, and immediately. Surviving the Fiendish Five, along with all the jobs they had gotten away with cleanly during the intermittent time between the Clockwerk jobs were going to be worth at least one of their lives. From the looks of it, it would be their unofficial leader. Bentley himself had already paid with his legs...and Murray...he really hadn't seen the hippo often since they reached Beatrice's home in Saint-Cyr-au-Mont-d'Or. Both of them kept to themselves for the last week, both lost in their own worlds. The turtle rolled himself to the backdoors and looked out at the nature beyond them. As he gazed morosely at the landscape, the reptile wondered for the umpteenth time how he ended up where he was.

He had been brought to the orphanage at the age of two. There were very few records of his folks, but he had bits and pieces of information about them. For example, his father was a Vietnam War soldier, and his mother had been a teacher. What happened to them, no one knew. He had spent six years at the orphanage alone, before a slightly chubby hippo appeared. Murray came to the orphanage when the hippo was eight years old. Due to the fact that the orphanage was starting to become overcrowded, they were both relocated to the attic. The day that the two met was unforgettable.

Flashback

The turtle had spent the last week fretting about his new roommate. He didn't know anything about this person, except that it was a boy. Because according to the matron, it was improper to have girls and boys room together. Therefore, it was obvious that his new roommate would be another boy. Today was it; he was going to discover who this mystery person was. Suddenly, he heard footsteps on the attic stairs and before long, the trap door was eased open by someone. Bentley could not see who it was because the turtle had taken refuge in his shell the moment the trap door started moving. The turtle gasped in terror as two heavy thuds sounded on the landing. Bentley hoped that maybe whoever the gargantuan was wouldn't see him, or at least the shell wedged between the bed and the wall. The reptile only shook harder as the footsteps got closer and closer. Then an excited voice exclaimed,

"You know, you're shaking so hard in your shell that you sound like someone playing a maraca!" Bentley shrieked, before falling over in a dead faint. A few moments later, the turtle came around to find two huge brown eyes staring at him.

"Gahhh! Please don't eat me!" he cried out before hiding out in his shell again. Then he heard laughter before Bentley peeked out again to see a pink hippo doubled over in laughter.

"Eat you? I wasn't going to eat you! I just wanted to say hi," explained the boy. Bentley groaned in embarrassment.

"Oh, well now that I have made a fool of myself, I should probably introduce myself. I am Bensworth Jasper Bentley," said the turtle. He reached out and shyly shook the other boy's hand. Although, he was internally goggling as his hand practically disappeared in the larger mammal's hand.

"I am Murdock Bardray," answered the pink mammal with a smile.

"Murdock? That is an interesting name," commented the turtle as he adjusted his spectacles.

"My folks were big comic fans. I know, strange, but they were huge Daredevil fans, and well they decided that Murdock was more...special or something, so that was that. At least that is what my Grandma used to say. Though you can call me, Murray...like Grandma used to," he said. Bentley nodded.

"You can call me, Bentley. I don't like my other two names much, but keep it between us, deal?" offered the turtle.

"Like a secret?" he asked, excited once more. The turtle nodded once more. "Ok, Bentley!"...

End Flashback

Unknowingly, Bentley had made one of two lifelong friends that day. They had been through so much together over the last eleven years, and as much as Bentley hated to think about it, all of that was practically a hair's breath away from oblivion. What made it worse was that he was responsible for some of it. He was eighty percent certain that this whole ordeal would not be as harrowing as it was if he had not been such a jerk. If he hadn't been so busy being bitter, maybe he would not have chased Murray away, and he would not be braving this nightmare by himself. Maybe if he had been paying more attention and noticed just how sick Sly was, maybe he could have convinced the raccoon to see a doctor sooner. That may have prevented him from developing meningitis; which would have prevented this event from even transpiring. Nevertheless, no amount of hindsight could change the fact that the Cooper Gang was ironically on its last legs. As he turned back around to go find his favorite comfort, his laptop, he spotted Murray slumped over on the bats' couch. The hippo looked pale; he himself probably did, too. They had not been outdoors very often in the last few months. The hippo finally noticed that someone was watching him as he turned to look at Bentley.

"Anything new?" he croaked.

"Unfortunately, and fortunately, no there isn't," grumbled the turtle. Murray just sighed.

"I am really worried about him, I mean we haven't even seen him yet!" he complained.

"I know, Murray. But you know it's not safe for either of us to travel," said Bentley as Murray groaned.

"But, I still can't believe that he is dyi-" said Murray, before Bentley cut him off,

"Don't say it!" demanded the turtle, "He is not dying!"

"But Bent, according to the doctors, Sly is-" Murray started again.

"Comatose. That does not mean he is dying!" insisted Bentley, cutting the hippo off yet again.

"B-but, he can't even breathe on his own," protested the hippo. The turtle was not ready to shatter his bubble of fantasy, not yet. He just sighed and continued over to the portable desk that currently supported his laptop. The techno-genius logged onto his laptop, and he spent an hour aimlessly attempting to debug a couple of programs that he had been working on. Then his cellular began to ring, breaking the silence.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Bentley? It's Bryan," said the bat.

"Something wrong?" asked the reptile anxiously.

"Unfortunately, the doctors believe that Sly has had a stroke and are worried about the resulting swelling in, and around, his brain. The cranial pressure may lead to more brain damage. The physicians want to go ahead and schedule a procedure, but Bea and I are worried that Shaun's magic will react badly to any attempts to operate," explained the man.

"I see your concern. But what can we do? After all, he needs to get better, right? However, he could accidently run afoul of the treaty laws," sighed Bentley, shaking his head.

"Beatrice said that she would talk to Phillip about getting Shaun moved to the center before the procedure takes place," explained Bryan.

"What center? She never mentioned any center," blurted out Bentley in alarm.

"An old school roommate of ours works for a medical center that specializes in caring for magi. It would also have the extra benefit of allowing you two to visit Shaun. The place is practically in the middle of nowhere," said Bryan calmly in an attempt to soothe the turtle. "I just wanted to let you two know. I will update you later." Bentley hung up the phone and went back to his debugging distraction, but quickly gave up, his mind on his friend. He instead went information hunting. Surprisingly, the turtle could find very little on the center that Bryan spoke of. They had super tight security, and he was not able to hack it from the mobile station he had with him. Therefore, he turned towards trying to understand what exactly the situation was with his sick comrade.

Sly was currently in a stage 7 coma, according to the Glasgow Scale and grade 2, pushing grade 3 coma, according to the Coma/Non-Coma scale. Both scores could be read as a moderate coma. Complications from meningitis was the reason behind the coma. Meningitis, simply put, was the swelling of the meninges, the protective coverings surrounding the brain. The meningitis was a result of left over s. pneumoniae bacteria left over from a bout of pneumonia that Sly had a few weeks ago, making its way into Sly's head and spine. Now, Bryan was saying that doctors were worried that the raccoon had also suffered a stroke, and that the swelling in Sly's brain was getting worse. They had been giving him medications to help with the swelling, but apparently they weren't working. The raccoon had been comatose for the last week or so, and the doctors had been scrambling to determine any alternate causes. So far, they put it down to complications due to the meningitis and, now, a recent stroke. It just seemed as if Sly couldn't catch a break.

Now, the surgeons were looking to operate on the raccoon to see if they could help the situation. Therefore, Bentley decided to scope out what the procedure might be if they decided on operating. He found it quickly enough but then immediately wished he had not. A hemicraniectomy was a relatively simple procedure. The surgeon would remove part of Sly's skull to allow for his brain to safely expand until the swelling went down. While the idea of someone taking a saw to his best friend's head made him feel ill, no matter what benefits it was supposed to give, there were several other things that worried the turtle. Not to mention there were a whole set of complications that could come up with the surgery in addition to the ones he already had due to the meningitis. The list read like this, as for the meningitis: stroke (he had one already), coma (again already there), deafness, cognitive impairment, vision problems, possible speech inhibition...the stroke brought the same risks, along with motor impairment and possible seizures, and the surgery added fluid build-up, high infection risk, and other potential consequences, if the procedure isn't performed correctly.

Bentley was sure that he was as white as snow by this point. He finally slammed the laptop shut with a choked cry. He was furious that for once, his usual methods of operation were not bringing him any comfort, only pain and worry. He always relied on information to aid and comfort him during stressful times. As long as he had information or facts, he could do something, or at least confront his fear of something. This information; however, brought him no comfort, only fear. Fear that something else would go wrong. Fear that his friend would never get better. Fear that he would never get to...Bentley shook his head to get himself off that train of thought. No! He would not accept this! Sly was tough; he would pull through, he always did. Even in situations that Bentley knew he or Murray could not have navigated on their own, Sly, on his own and/or with their help, always managed to make things work, always.

Bentley realized that he did not want information anymore; he just wanted his friend back. He blinked back tears as his mind wandered back to the day that he and Sly truly met for the first time. It had been nearly a week after the raccoon came to the orphanage. Everyone did their level best to steer clear of the boy. The rumors of him being possessed by something evil were still making healthy rounds through the halls of the orphanage. The older kids would often speak of the eerie noises he made the night he was brought in. Needless to say, Bentley remained out of his way. However, it was quite a challenge due to the fact that the boy was his and Murray's new roommate. Nevertheless, one day, while all the younger kids were outside playing, that would all change...

Flashback

The turtle landed in the dirt, hard. Groaning, he pushed himself to his feet. His small eyes squinted around him. His glasses had been knocked off, and he was having trouble discerning some of his surroundings as the turtle was near-sighted. Although, he was sure no one was coming to help him. They were all probably glad that it wasn't them being singled out today. His usual tormentors were being particularly vicious today as his usual protector, Murray, was ill. He sighed before turning around to face his fate, knowing that running away would not do anything but make it worse. Then the turtle happened to spot some movement coming from his left. Someone wearing an old brown blanket, held together by some unseen clasp, was coming up towards the group. The blanket was pulled up and over the person's head. The reptile swore that as the figure approached, the sky began to darken, and the wind picked up. The four bullies, armadillo quadruplets, were all huddled together and terrified. The sudden drop in the temperature made the turtle break out in goose bumps. The intruder stopped in between Bentley and the bullies and just stood there.

As the four bullies began to realize that the person was not going to do anything, they started jeering at both the turtle and his mysterious…protector. They made faces and called them names, trying to get a rise out of the two. However, they never responded and just stared at the both of them, one in silence the other in a courageous stand. As the ultimate staring contest continued, Bentley happened to look down at the cloaked figure's feet and noticed a tail. It was light gray, with a visible black stripe. Could it be his new roommate that was protecting him? If it was, why was he doing it? Bentley continued to watch in timid fascination as the raccoon calmly took the boys' abuse. The turtle slid a little off to the side, so that he was no longer just staring at the back of the blanket wearer. Then he watched as one of the boys, the oldest one named Dorsey, picked up what looked like a stone, throwing it at the boy. Bentley held his breath and everything around him seemed to slow to a crawl. The rock flew through the air, hurtling towards the raccoon, but it stopped. The boy's hand came up and caught the rock in midair. Bentley could not see the catch since it happened so quickly, but he could see the faces of the armadillos though. They had gone pale, and they were shaking once more. Suddenly, the hand that held the rock slowly lowered before a single digit pointed at the boys.

"My master wants your souls," announced the raccoon in a gruff voice. A flash of lightning leapt across the now black sky, before a booming clap of thunder followed. The four ashen armadillos shrieked in terror before taking off across the lawn with tears streaming down their faces. The robed figure dropped the rock and then turned to Bentley. The turtle gathered his flagging courage and managed to squeak out,

"Thank you."

The figure nodded. Then, he began to walk away before stopping and picking something up. He then returned and held out the turtle's glasses, who took them from the raccoon, cleaning them before putting them back on. Looking up to see his new roommate, and soon-to-be best friend, up close for the first time, Bentley noticed that the raccoon had light brown eyes that seemed to stare right through the reptile. His face wasn't harsh, or cold, or even strange. He looked like a normal raccoon, except his color seemed a little paler than most. He reached his hand out to the turtle, and Bentley took it hesitantly. As Bentley was pulled to his feet, a shameful thought occurred to him; he didn't even know his own roommate's name. To Bentley's credit, the raccoon had not said much to anybody since he arrived, so it was not a one-sided problem. "So, who are you exactly? And did you really come from, well you know..." blurted the, then, nine-year old turtle nervously. The raccoon tilted his head to the side and seemed to study him, his eyes dancing.

"Well, as for who I am, you may call me Sly, Sly Cooper," he replied lightly, then his voice grew grave again, "And yes, as you have all been whispering behind my back, I do indeed come from the side of the dark one. I am merely a scout sent to study you pathetic creatures until my master comes to rule." Bentley gaped at the boy beside him.

"But-but..." croaked the turtle. The raccoon gave a calm, yet scary, grin as he turned and started back towards the orphanage.

"Come along, Bentley...I may be from the other side, but that does not mean I am immune to getting wet. The rain will be here soon," And at that moment, the first raindrop hit Bentley right on the top of his head...

End Flashback

Sly would continue to utilize his uncanny ability to use his surroundings and timing to his advantage. Sly would later tell Bentley the truth himself, the storm had been rolling in during recess. Not too many people had been paying attention to it, but Sly had. He had also been keeping an eye on Bentley per Murray's request, and a little of his own initiative. When the raccoon saw what was happening, he rushed over to the clothesline and snatched the blanket and a clothespin. He then fashioned the cloak he had been wearing using the items. Once he determined how far away it was, he waited until the storm was just coming over the playground before making his entrance. He then waited for the lightning to start before speaking. Where there was lightning, there would always be thunder, which just added to the overall effect. Sly had let the storm speak for him. He didn't use any "dark" gifts to encourage the storm, just his own unique sense of timing.

This ability would get him out of more than a few scrapes and earn him an ironically "magical" reputation. It became particularly handy once the trio ended up on the streets. They left the orphanage when Bentley was just 12 years old. It had been a quick, but sordid affair involving Sly, Murray, a molesting headmaster, and a mail opener. The boys had beaten a hasty retreat with a few supplies, and possessions, without ever looking back. The first few months had been rough on all of them, but through it all Sly had remained calm and collected. Between Sly and Bentley's minds, the two devised many ways to keep the group fed and alive. Sly was often bouncing from job to job that usually paid cash or something else of value to the three under the table. Despite the raccoon's seemingly indifference, the whole sorry thing had really been eating at him. Bentley would not see it until the turtle's first birthday on the street. That day Sly had...

"Hey Bent, I am a little hungry. Did you want anything?" asked Murray as he trudged past. The turtle thought about it for a few seconds. While he knew that he needed to eat, he didn't feel hungry.

"No, not right now," murmured the hacker, his heart and mind heavy. "Honestly, I think I am going to take a nap." He started to wheel himself down the hallway towards the guest room that he and Murray were sharing. He wheeled himself into the room. It was loosely decorated in brown tones. Bentley settled his chair in an empty corner, before going into his shell as much as he could and closing his eyes. When Bentley was woken up by a nightmare, he was surprised to see that night had fallen. How long had he been asleep? He looked over to see Murray asleep in his bed. He looked down at his wristwatch: 10:13 p.m. He shook off the last tremors of his nightmare before rolling out of the room and towards the living room. The reptile tried not to notice how dark it was in the corridor, lest he spooked himself again with the child-like fear. He continued pushing towards the sliver of light that was coming from the windows in the backdoors. Once he finally made his way into the living room, he was shocked to see Beatrice sitting on her couch in the dark. The light from the back doors fell perfectly on the couch, illuminating her.

"Oh, Bentley! You startled me," said the bat as she whirled around to see him sitting beside the couch.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?" asked the turtle as he strained to see the woman, even in the semi-lighted space. He heard a sniffle and quickly deduced that the bat had been having herself a good cry.

"I really did not need it. Trying to keep the power bill as low as I can, and all that," she replied off-handedly.

"I can tell you are upset," said the turtle as Beatrice sighed heavily.

"I ran by the hospital earlier, before I came home," she admitted.

"Oh, did they operate?" asked Bentley.

"No, we finally got Shaun approved for transfer to the center, and I came home after seeing him and Bryan off. Oh, by the way, your meds are by your laptop," said Beatrice, "But the doctors were talking about operating as soon as they landed. They are probably in surgery right now. The flight was only 30 minutes or so," Bentley's mind immediately pulled up picture after picture of open skulls and the turtle swallowed. They were cutting open his friend's head right now, and Bentley could do nothing about it. It had just been decided for all of them, something that angered him greatly.

"Why? Why do you suddenly get to make all the decisions!" demanded Bentley, a small part of him internally wincing at how petulant and whiny he sounded.

"Simple, I am technically yours, Sly's, and Murray's legal guardian," she said stiffly.

"Since when?" snapped the turtle, he hated not having any say in what was going on around him. It turned him back into the easily frightened turtle that he was when he was a kid. It made him feel more useless, and powerless, than he already did.

"Since Sly asked me to become the gang's guardian before the first Clockwerk job, just in case something happened to him! He wanted to make sure that you two would have options in case he wasn't there to help and protect you!" Beatrice snapped. She then clapped her hands, and the lights in the living room turned themselves on. Bentley did a double take when his eyes finally adjusted. The bat had big dark circles under her eyes, and tear-stains on her face. Her blonde hair and white fur were now muted in color and slightly matted. She probably had not had a chance to really relax or bathe thoroughly in the last week. But despite her run down look, the bat's eyes were sharp with disapproval, and they were cutting into him like knives. The turtle squirmed uncomfortably for a moment knowing that he crossed another line once again. However, the turtle, instead of apologizing, returned to his usual M.O. and became defensive.

"Still! You should have asked us, first! He actually lived with us! First, you whisk him away without so much as a notice! Now, Sly is sick in the hospital, and you decide to let doctors drill into his head like it was nothing but a melon!" he accused. The bat hissed in reproach and covered the distance between the two of them in the blink of an eye.

"Right! Ask you, fils?" she snapped derisively.

"Boy?!" Bentley protested, angrily.

"Oui! (Yes!) That is exactly what you are acting like, a little boy," she snarled. "throwing a tantrum because things are not going your way!" Bentley was stunned into silence. "You are NOT the only person that CARES about what happens to Sly! You are NOT the only person that is HURTING right now! You are NOT the only one feeling SCARED and GUILTY!" The turtle had retreated into his shell partially by the end of her rant. Then suddenly, all the air and anger seemed to leave the bat at once, and she sunk to her knees.

"But that wasn't my..." he managed to croak after a moment, but the bat cut him off,

"Sly felt guilty because he dragged you from one mess into another, even though that was never his intention. He felt guilty because Murray was harmed by that hell bent harpy the Contessa; he was practically sick over the loss of your legs. Murray felt guilty because he could not protect Sly from the Contessa's cruelties, or you from the jaws of Clock-whatever the feline bitch wanted to call herself! Both of them were just as hurt and changed by the events of that job as you were! Hell, I am still sitting here trying to figure out what I could have done to prevent this nightmare! Maybe... I should have taken you all in eons ago. It would have been tight, but maybe you would not have gotten caught up in all this mess..." Her voice was a hollow croak that sounded, in a way, louder and worse than her harsh yelling earlier. Bentley sat there and let the bat's words sink in. She was right, he was behaving like a child. He was behaving just the way he would during a heist, except this time, there was no Murray or Sly to fix the problem while harping on him about his whining. It was just him, he was all alone…again. This behavior was not going to cut it anymore, but the turtle felt helpless to change... it was just too much. Bentley retreated into his shell and sobbed until he was exhausted, before falling into a fitful sleep once more.

Suddenly, Bentley awoke to find himself back in the team van. The turtle looked around warily as he tried to discern why he was there. As he looked around the vehicle, the turtle noticed that his crossbow and other field gear were nowhere to be found. Then he noticed something vitally different, his legs did not hurt, nor did they feel unusually heavy. He looked down and almost wept when he realized that there were no scars or a wheelchair. He could walk! He hesitantly stood and walked around the van shakily. After his jubilant jaunt in the van, he noticed that an awful scent was permeating the van. Bentley groaned in disgust before beginning to search for the stench's source. Finally, the hacker stuck his head out the van and gagged. The stench was obviously coming from outside. He then looked around and slowly began to recall where he was. He was in the swamps of Haiti! The gang traveled here to take down Mz. Ruby, the Fiendish Five's Mystic and Chief Magus nearly three, almost four, years ago.

Then the tactician realized that he had abandoned his post and quickly returned to the interior of the van. His workstation was covered in plans and pictures. It was always in some form of disarray. It drove Sly nuts. Most people would assume that Bentley was the neat freak of the group; however, it was quite the opposite. Sly could almost be classified as OCD about being organized. However, unlike Bentley, he was not a mysophobe (or germophobe). Bentley had not stepped a foot outside the van since they arrived in the swamp. The turtle went back to his seat and reestablished his connection with Sly just in time to see a big heavy gate taking up much of the thief's viewing area. Bentley found himself repeating words that he said years ago.

"What's with this industrial-sized voodoo gate? Mz. Ruby must really be trying to keep something out." Then Sly's voice came back across the connection. Although a bit huskier than the turtle remembered it, since Sly's voice had been starting to change around that time.

"Or maybe, she is trying to keep something in." Bentley felt a shiver go down his spine. He already lived this scenario once, and he knew what laid beyond that gate, a large acid-spewing lamia (snake-woman of Greek myth origin, not a gorgon though!) that had an anthromorphic head with glittering yellow eyes and gold hair, the rest her body was that of a giant snake. She would cackle delightedly about wanting to devour the raccoon. Even as Bentley and Murray cowered in the van, her attempt would be unsuccessful because he would give Sly the code to the vault; the vault that contained the spell book that they needed to free the ghost that could tell them how to get into the inner courtyard of Mz. Ruby's lair. Then the thief would barely make the climb out of the pen before becoming snake food. The code! The scroll case lay unopened on his desk. He had not cracked it yet, and deep down he was not too keen to unlock it again. In order for Sly to survive; however, he had to give him that code. Then as the turtle started to panic, it dawned on him. It was a dream, he really did not have to answer the code because he already knew the code! But as soon as the thought occurred to the turtle, a rustling sound caught his attention. The scroll was unrolling itself, the magic already in motion. Once the scroll was completely unfurled, the sickly green magic that had been leaking from it coalesced into the shape of Mz. Ruby. The alligator's sightless glowing eyes bore into his own.

"Play my game," she taunted, "and I will give you what you seek." Bentley did not want to play this game again. The first time around, he had seen evidence of the big monster via the moving reeds but became distracted by the riddle and by the time Sly had actually reached the lamia's nest, he was torn between watching the monster try to eat his friend and answering the alligator's riddle. He remembered the pressure and the fear, but all of that was drowned out by the words she left him with after it was all over. He tried repeatedly to wake himself up, but with a heavy heart, he realized that he would have to play this memory all the way through.

"Fine," he sighed, "What is your game?"

"Answer my riddle, and the code is yours," she said slowly. Bentley never did figure out how that spell worked. It was as if Mz. Ruby, herself, had visited him via a projection.

"Go on," grumped the turtle as he tried to drown out Sly's yelps of panic as he barely dodged the lamia's strikes, and Murray's worried questions from the front seat.

"I am born 'n fear, raised 'n truth, and I come 'nto my own by deed. When comes a time that I'm called forth, I come to serve the cause of need. Wha' am I?" she said teasingly, swaying from side to side as she balanced on her tail. Bentley did not have to think as long this time, remembering the answer as it burned in his chest like a hot iron rod.

"C-courage," whispered the turtle, his voice robbed by emotions both past and present. The alligator laughed loudly.

"You a smart one turtle..." said the apparition."The code is yours; however, remember this: keep courage close... or else you will abandon him." Those damning, and haunting, words drifted through the air permeating every fiber of the turtle's being.

"No, no! I won't abandon him," protested the turtle. The alligator continued to stare right through him.

"Keep it close to ya heart, or you will abandon him," she repeated. The turtle began to shake again, just as he had the first time. The woman shook her head sadly, "You have already abandoned him, haven't you?" The criminal mastermind felt himself pale; this was not the same memory... she was supposed to dissolve back into mist and then form the numbers on the page. What was going on?

"No, I haven't abandoned him!" he screamed. "You're wrong!" but even he did not believe his words as a new thought entered his head, "I haven't abandoned him. How can you abandon a dead friend?"

"You have abandoned him in your head... You just can't admit it. Your heart is still fighting a losing battle not to give in," accused the priestess.

"NO! He IS not DEAD!" he protested. The voice taunted him one more time before disappearing into mist: "not yet". The mist gathered around the scroll before three glowing numbers appeared in the middle of the scroll: 4-4-4.

"BENT! Where is that code?" Sly's harried voice came from his computer. Bentley raced for the parchment and called out to Sly through the Binoc-cu-com,

"Sorry, Sly! I had to overcome some personal demons to get the answer to this one. Try 4-4-4." said Bentley shakily. The memory began fading away after that. However, this new doubtful voice continued plaguing Bentley until it hounded him out of his dreams and back into reality with a cry. The turtle gasped for air as he tried to recollect his wits. After his heart rate slowed down to normal, Bentley noticed that he was back in the guest bedroom. Beatrice must have brought him back. Guilt began to plague the turtle once more. He owed the bat an apology, especially since the turtle knew that both bats were risking their lives, and their livelihoods, to help them out. Bentley had done nothing but be a suspicious jerk about it. He slowly wheeled himself from the room as he went in search of the blonde woman. Finally finding her in the kitchen with a somewhat jovial looking Murray, which had the welcoming side effect of lifting his spirit a little bit, but it wasn't enough to deter him from his current objective. Bentley waited for Beatrice to finish fixing her coffee. The woman finally turned around and greeted Bentley.

"Good morning, Bentley," she said softly as she made her way over to the table.

"Good morning. Um, look, Beatrice... I am sorry about last night. You were right; I was acting like a child and I apologize for that," he said stiffly, as the words felt heavy on his tongue. The shame simmering in his gut was not helping either.

The bat smiled softly and said, "Apology accepted, Bentley. We are all stressed right now. Honestly, I wanted to apologize to you as well. While I don't withdraw what I said last night, I do feel that I was harsher with you than I should have been. For that, I am sorry." Bentley was actually surprised that the bat apologized; he felt he had deserved the scolding, but he agreed that maybe she could have been a bit little nicer about it.

"Apology accepted," said the turtle, before wheeling himself to the table and partaking of some of the fruit there.

"I thought we could discuss going to see Sly in a couple of days," said Beatrice slowly as she sipped on her coffee as she eyed Bentley and Murray. Her eyes lingered on Murray as she finished her thought, "there are some things that need to be addressed before we can go..."

The bolded lines within the story are dialogue from the original Sly Cooper game!

And done, finally. So, what did you think...? Was it different seeing things from Bentley's perspective? And who do you think is next? Don't forget about the Easter Egg... and review please! Thanks for reading!

Dragon and Sword Master here, I want to apologize to both Wolfkeeper989 and to her fans, of this and all of her other stories. As of 4/30/13, this chapter has been beta-read.