Secret of the Kings

by ChaosX97

Sly and the gang are issued a challenge when they learn of 'a treasure greater than any other.' At first, it looks to be the Cooper Gang's next big adventure. But secrets lie all around, including a dark truth about the Cooper lineage, and the lines between friend and foe are made unclear. Sly Cooper may just learn along the way that some secrets are better left unsaid.

3. Prologue Pt 3

"YOU WHAT!?"

Sly's announcement had hit the technological turtle harder than the dreaded blue screen of death. Pulled out of the informational highway running in his head, he slammed his now messy desk knocking the lamp and near everything else on it to the floor. The beam of light hit the nervously grinning master thief like an interrogation room lamp.

"Okay, yeah, maybe I should have ran it with you guys first, but I mean it seemed like a good idea at the time…" He shrugged.

Bentley groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sweet tectonics, just take a jackhammer to my shell and end me."

Murray had to squeeze through from the entrance to the other room with an unstable mountain of junk food: burgers, buckets of chicken, cupcakes and the like. His snout was stuffed with at least three slices of pizza crammed into his maw when he saw the tension between his friends. He had the decency to swallow before speaking. "Uh… what's going on and is it something I should go back into the kitchen for? Say yeah, 'cause I think I went a little light on the snacks…"

"Picture if you will, Murray." Bentley began, gesturing to Sly who shook his head. "We're here, you eating, me painstakingly researching: our usual things, and meanwhile Sly goes and plays talent scout and tries to recruit some random joe who just robbed a food warehouse!"

"In my defense, he got a pretty good haul."

"Sounds like my kind of criminal." Murray added.

"Excuse me? Permit me to weigh in once more and remind you that he's a thirteen-year-old!"

"Fourteen, last I checked." Sly added.

Bentley sighed and rolled out from behind his desk to reset the lamp onto the desk and get his files in order with his own and his chair's robotic limbs. "Thirteen, fourteen, twenty-four or seventy-five, it's not happening."

Sly leaned by the desk and scooted items closer with his cane. "Okay, can I just also say in my defense that the kid's got serious skills? I mean it, Bentley, you know I wouldn't make that call unless I thought he had chops."

"Frankly it's how those skills are being utilized that bothers me…"

Sly had to agree, if that was only conveyed by how tightly he gripped his cane. "So maybe he needs a lesson in proper 'utilization.' Come on Bentley, what is the big deal? Why are you so against this?"

Bentley paused, hand raised as it reached out for a paper. The bones of his knuckles showed through the glove fabric, flexing and clutching, clawing at air. With the same hand to his face he wiped whatever seemed to chill his cold blood to frigid levels away, readjusting his glasses and continuing to sort through the desk contents. The hairs on Sly's tail bristled as the turtle's tension pulsated out in rushed grabs, leaving the room silent save for the sounds of ruffling papers and Murray's exaggerated chewing. The best move was to let the atmosphere settle until Bentley had cooled.

Still, Sly had to roll his eyes at his friend's nagging as he soon joined in to pick up the rest of the scattered items. Bentley was his best friend and he always tried to respect his wishes, but the element of chaos surging in their wake and surrounding them should have by now been a relatively light weight to carry on their shoulders. It was chuckle worthy how order was still a needed anchor for Bentley, worthless unless absolute – every stack of papers neatly stacked, every pencil perfectly straight on the surface.

"All right. Let me put it this way: in advanced calculus, trigonometry, geometry, physics, any and every level of mathematics that comes to mind, every formula is set. Constant." Bentley spoke with the physical example of an actual calculus expression on a whiteboard. At the side, he drew in a random letter 'z' on the side. "Throw in any unknown or foreign variables and the whole thing becomes incalculable and falls apart."

"How does it always come back to math?"

"Oh, come on! I didn't even throw out an equation!" Bentley yelled in exasperation. "Look, can we just drop this and get back to focusing on the 'Mystery of the Calling Card' you've apparently lost interest in about the span of a few hours in?"

"When did I say I lost interest?" Sly stood to lean on the table. "I'm just saying… maybe, it wouldn't be all that bad to have one more helping hand brought along for the ride."

"Because that's worked out so splendidly in the past."

"Uh, it actually has. If memory serves, this wouldn't exactly be the first time we've gone and recruited new blood. And I wasn't too keen on a particular choice of yours at first."

Sly had absently gestured to another room where the steel-sealed modern-age Cooper Vault was, undoubtedly their greatest haul to date. The reward was almost as great as the challenge, requiring the world-class talents of misfits turned master criminals, allies that came from the unlikeliest places. Though saying things 'worked out' as Sly had stated was a bit of an exaggeration, as Bentley noted with the sarcastic glare beaming through his glasses.

"That was a special case. The Cooper Vault job took more than just us. We needed extra everything just to get past the first few turrets. This – how is this beneficial in any way that can't be satisfied with our current capabilities?"

"He's got a point, Sly." Murray pointed out between mouthfuls.

"Never hurts to have more options." Sly shrugged.

"He's got a point, Bentley." Murray butted in once again.

"Okay, you asked me why I was against this. Can I ask you why you're for this?" Bentley gestured wildly with his hands as if to slam Sly down with the enormity of his sudden decision. "For the sake of clarity, let's review: you want to recruit a teenager who steals from perfectly legal, publicly-owned warehouses, just because it so happens he's talented in doing so? I'll be honest, I-I'm not even seeing your classic madhouse Cooper logic here."

"I want to help the kid out."

"Help him out?" Bentley asked.

"We get a new teammate and he gets a chance to turn things around. It's a win-win if you think about it."

"Oh, for crying out loud, Sly! We are not some kind of foster care!" Bentley rolled away and returned to behind his desk. "We can't just give charity to kids because they so happen to have some prodigal talent. Quite frankly, I'm not really convinced on that note. Whatever talent you saw might have just been rehearsed procedure and nothing more."

"What are you talking about?"

Bentley rolled away and settled back behind his desk. "According to Interpol's records, there's been a spike in youth crime around here over the past few months. Petty theft, vandalism, definite juvy-level stuff. The Parisian government commented it's got ties to several foster homes in the area shutting down due to budget troubles."

That wiped the grin off Sly's face, a difficult task indeed.

"Yeah, bummer. Probably doesn't bode well for your feathered felon friend. But justice has always had a tipped ratio that way – a new scumbag's born every minute."

If there was anything more difficult than erasing a grin from Sly Cooper's face, it was upsetting or provoking him. Very few methods existed that could do it, and a cold dose of reality was no exception. Yet peering through the turtle's thick lenses and only seeing the apparent final line in the sand for compromise, Sly gave a sterner look than any could say they'd ever seen from him.

"I get that, Bentley. I, of all people, get that." He placed a humble hand to his chest. "But that doesn't mean we should be okay with it. Yeah, there are a bunch of scumbags out there, but, hey, maybe this is my way of making sure there's one less."

The tension rose again as sparks began to surge between the gazes of mammal and reptile. Each time the one with the shell looked ready to speak, he clamped his mouth shut. Sly found that disturbing without question, but kept his own silence. In the fires set between their war of words, they had almost entirely forgotten their gargantuan getaway driver standing in the background. Without a trace of a full mouth, his voice rang like a bell of clarity. "Uh, maybe it wouldn't be-"

They both looked at him. He paused, a bead of sweat running down his strangely stiff form.

"Well, not to trash on you guys, but having some new blood to pal around with would be pretty awesome. I mean, you know what they say, 'the more the merrier.'"

"What!?" Bentley shrieked.

"Yeah, why not?" Murray swallowed up a tossed cookie. "Besides, if Sly says he's cool, that's good enough for me."

Sly pumped his fist in triumph. "Yes! Two to one, I win! I'll be back!" Sly almost warped out the front door, grabbing his cane and rushing out the door so quickly. A rush of air swirled behind him that combined with the door knocked books from the neighboring shelf and the food tower on the nearby couch to topple over.

That just left the lingering pressure in the room to find company between the seething turtle and the suddenly nervous-looking hippo.

No sooner was Sly out the door than he burst into one tremendous leap and swinging off on a nearby wire. The streets below his uplifted form had been cleared of police cars, even the most devoted officers deciding to call it quits and go home. For once, the lack of obstacles on the open road was a welcome change to Sly; as far as he was concerned, everything within the span of even the last few minutes was ancient history.

As he vaulted and swung on every pipe and cable at breakneck speed, his eyes remained peeled for any sign of his potential recruit. Same old dingy buildings and pungent perfumes, same shady thugs with cigars in overcoats. The repetition was quickly growing tiresome. In-depth scans with the Binocucom were turning up cold as well.

"Well, never count on getting lucky twice in a row."

Just as the frustrated mutterings left his lips, yowls of cats and honking horns racing for his ears made way for another dilemma. He turned to the source of the noise just as the warning siren sounded in his mind.

There was a familiar sight that had stood out more than he had expected. The beggar youth in rags he'd spared a coin to earlier was still there on the street corner. It was almost no surprise to see him struggling for his meager scraps, but what drew out veins in his cane-gripping arm was the vicious-looking cat in opposing uniform trying to wrench the cup from his hand.

It was an uneven struggle from the start as he futilely pulled. "Get your hands off!"

"Fat chance, kid!" The cat officer yelled. "I got 'alf a clue sayin' you stole dis from some unsuspectin' old lady."

"Sure you wanna waste what little you've got on fantasies like that?"

"Maybe I should haul yer ass in for that smart mouth o' yours on top of stealing!" The threat almost carried a chuckle in its tone. "Yer in enough trouble for resistin' an officer of the law!"

The game of back and forth ended promptly for when the bully in blue grabbed the boy's thin arm and tossed him to the ground. By the time he turned around, the cup's rather decent contents, a small stack of dollars, were already stowed away in the officer's pocket and out of reach. The officer gave a smug grin and tossed the empty cup carelessly at the boy's head.

"Not a bad haul for a two-bit punk. Keep it up and you'll be on Cooper's level."

"You son of a bitch!"

"Hehehe… sure can bark for a bird…"

He made the corner to leave the boy to wallow in defeat, yet in his glee the golden hook that reached into his back pocket and snatched the money right back out felt like little more than a slap of air. The boy's surprise ring-tailed rescuer hung inverted from a clothesline by his heels giving a mock salute to him. The line tugged back and the raccoon sprung into the air only to land nimbly on his feet right before him with the reclaimed money in his hand.

"I believe this belongs to you?" He smiled.

The boy stared for a moment, but gently pushed the offering hand away. "The hell am I gonna do with that?"

"Hey, everybody needs more money these days."

"Maybe, but even gum's out of my price rage with that stuff." The boy shrugged with his hands pocketed.

Sly looked utterly baffled at the boy's refusal. Pride held nothing next to an empty stomach, and the money in his hand was worth at least a couple weeks' worth of fast food. But one good look at the money and the boy's stubbornness gained a light of sense. Though there was an uncanny resemblance, the dollars he had were nothing more than play money used with children's toys, some even marked with crayon scribbles. The clueless corrupt officer clearly was unable to tell the difference, and Sly had to suppress amusement at how he nearly was the same.

"Wolves in sheepdog's clothing, that's the real fuzz. Always gotta stay one step ahead of 'the law,' or else all you're left with is an empty cup and broken bones." The boy turned and began to walk away, catching Sly's ear with the fluttering of real dollars in his feathered hand.

Sly shook his head laughing. "Oh, that is good. That is TOO good… Though, I already knew you were that good."

The boy stopped, his hood instantly caught by his reached-out cane. With a tug it was pulled back.

"… We meet again, birdie."

Blake's stunned look instantly went deadpan without even looking back at the master thief smirking down at him. "Is this the part where I'm supposed to be shocked or impressed? Because, don't know if it's all that shocking the great Sly Cooper saw through my little disguise."

The raccoon picked up the empty cup by the handle and kept it raised by a finger. "Actually, this is the part where you tell me what's up with you begging for coins when you've got the chops to steal whatever you want."

"You're not the first to ask, believe me."

"Oh? Then am I just the only one you've given the cold shoulder to?"

Blake's face was a vault under total lock and key, but Sly figured he had already gained the combination just from a few good looks. Pieces were already falling into place: the beggar act, the food raid, the apparent mistrust of any person over eighteen or in police uniform. Bentley's news report from earlier also came back to him as the glue that linked them all together. It wasn't a glamorous picture by any standard, in fact it made his tail droop at the thought.

"Look, I was trying to find you to tell you my offer still stands, and from what I can tell you clearly need it." Sly spoke. "Maybe just a roof over your head sounds better than a big haul. I can see that."

The raven only burst out in short fits of sardonic laughter. "Wha-seriously!? Y-You think I'm some kinda… street rat who, who sleeps in a box and chews on old wrappers or something?"

Sly blinked in surprise. "So… you're not?"

"So I have pulled the wool over your eyes… guess I am as good as you think."

"Wait, wait, wait. If you're not homeless, why pretend you are? Why beg for coins if you can steal what you use them for? Seriously, what's your angle here?"

"You're getting a little obtuse about my angle." An annoyed edge began to seep in.

"But-"

"WILL YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!?"

As if warping from sight, the raven boy burst into the sky and flew away. Sly was prepared despite his shock in spire jumping atop the street lamps onto the rooftops. Blake zig-zagged with ghostlike precision and gale-force speed around the buildings. He twirled and bounced from the side, aiming for the shadows, slinking around the lit windows to take advantage of his cloaked form.

But honed experience was still triumphant over inborn skill, putting Sly's athleticism on par with such high velocity flight. A cane hook around an antenna, a slide down a clothesline, or a pole-vault up to somersault onto pole tips kept the feathered bullet within his sights. The chase was no more thrilling than it was invited, Sly could say, as he tried to logically glue together the re-scattered pieces. The motivation, the method, the boy himself, all darting in random directions but surely had to be leading somewhere.

"You've gotta see by now running's pointless!" It almost hurt to goad just to try and slow him down. "Just stop and we can talk this out!"

"What part of 'no' don't you understand!?"

"Hey!" A rough voice called from below, followed by a stream of shock bullets. "Where do you scumbags think you're runnin' off ta?"

The corrupt cop from before was right on them in a moving squad car down below, crashing through alleyways and less than concerned with petty obstacles like brick walls. A more retro-looking shock pistol was in his hand – by now Sly wondered if those things were standard issue – and aimed right at Blake. From the look on his face, he had caught onto Blake's ruse and was ready to deal a few hundred volts of vengeance.

Blake cartwheeled in the air just avoiding the bullets by mere feather fibers. "So this is what it's like to be Paris's Most Wanted."

From behind his waist he pulled two bladed pistols shaped as crossbows outlined with a cutting silvery glow. Inverted, he locked onto the speeding car from below. The cop launched his electric rounds with nerves pulling the trigger. They collided like small fireworks as Blake blasted them dead center with arrowhead bullets.

The boy had the last laugh though as his volley came too quick to stop, blasting the tires of the squad car. Skidding along the road, it went careening into a lamppost. The fixture came crashing down shattering the sirens and windows with a crash.

"D-damn… brat…" He cursed before passing out.

Sly whistled. "Tennessee would be proud."

"Well, I always aim to please." The raven boy chuckled twirling his gun. "But I better be on my way. I'll think of you whenever I see prison stripes."

Sly sprung forward to catch up, but almost reading the air, Blake stopped him cold by blasting a fire hydrant down below. The resulting geyser made for a watery wall barring the master thief. From the rim of his cap held to shield him from the spray, Sly caught Blake hopping away on the rooftops. Every fiber in him screamed frustration, but all that came out was, by now, his trademark smirk.

"Oh… he is real good."

There was an edge of Paris apart from it's glamour, yet apart from it's grime as well.

As Sly managed to track down Blake and keep on his trail again, he had noticed the surroundings begin to change. Buildings around him began to lose their vibrant colorings and street lamps flickered with dying lights. They showed in their intact moments large vines that had begun to run rampant along the concrete and stone surfaces, like claiming darkness regaining ground against light. Blake settled well in the shadows, calm enough to not notice him silently continuing the chase.

Yet at last it ended as Blake came up to a broken gateway, stone cracked and iron bars corroded. The inside was a place fitting for someone content to live as a shadow - a park long past its point of virescence. The trees stood overgrown and roots emerged from the ground, so thick even air could barely wriggle through. Any statues or structures meant for the pleasure of pedestrians were lost in sheets of moss and ivy or ravaged by time. Though the echoes of what might have been this place in its glory days, of vendors with treats and children laughing, were clear without need for imagination.

Wait.

.

Sly could actually hear children laughing.

The raccoon burst into the trees with silent steps. The challenge was at its hardest here, but he found Blake in a clearing, standing much like a strong tree himself amidst the tall grass. He put his feathered fingers to his beak and whistled.

And the eerie laughing began to grow louder. Sly picked up movement from the trees before the boy, shapes approaching with no delay. He raised his cane at the ready…

"Blake!"

"You're back!"

"Yay!"

"Blake's back! Blake's back!"

"What'd you get us?"

A ring of lanterns hung from the trees sparked to light, a halo of innocence from fixtures with uniquely drawn designs. A small band of children gathered around Blake, all hopping excitedly and grabbing at his legs, some even jumping at him expecting him to catch them. The raven matched their joyful energy with a controlled smirk.

"All right, twerps. Show of hands – who's been nice and who's been naughty?"

The children bounced and laughed with near sugar-induced energy all pointing out cries of innocence. Blake cocked an eyebrow, but shook his head a second later. "No point in asking, right… how do you do it, St. Nick?"

"Blake, can I have some food?" A small canary boy, as timid as he was yellow, asked at the young raven's feet.

"Sure, kiddo. I know you're all starving. Just don't go biting my feathers off."

Sly stood amazed from his dark perch in the trees above their soft lights. He watched as the once guarded smirk became a warm and friendly smile, inviting all these wary young children to approach. It seemed to lessen in spirit with each parcel taken, noticing the young ones almost truly biting his feather for the bread and fruits and ravenously gobbling them down. But it remained nonetheless, watching their ragged forms lighten up with the comforting feeling of a full stomach, much like Murray.

The puzzle he had before was a twisted image with misplaced pieces, but now everything truly fit. It was this black-feathered misfit who was their wall of protection, their own Happy Camper Orphanage and everything that came with it. Sly couldn't help but smile himself.

"Okay, so any o' you porkers still running on empty?" Blake poked standing up. "Hands up if you haven't gotten a meal."

A white feathered hand grabbed his arm by the bicep and raised it high. "Here's somebody."

Blake spun around in half a heartbeat and stood tense but lowered his guard seeing the young female dove behind him. Her pure white down glowed with an angelic amber hue with the lanterns, yet feathers strayed out from the calm surface making him stare with a hint of guilt. The smile on her beak was a more genuine one that completely exposed his own as some cheap imitation. Like day followed night, her clear blue eyes never removed themselves from his suddenly more-ragged form.

"Daisy!" Blake noted with mock pleasure. "As always, you make me wonder who the nanny is here."

"Don't sell yourself short." The dove, Daisy, giggled. "I'm sure you'd look good in a cute pink bathrobe and slippers."

"There's a mental image that'll never fade."

After a pause, she sighed. "Though I guess the basis of that idea would be my role as the apparent stay-at-home mom."

"Someone's gotta put stolen bread on the table." Blake's good mood seemed to evaporate slightly as well. "Not to risk dragging this on like some married couple, but, can't help the hours either."

Her smile faded completely now with her feathers to her head. Her beautiful features gave way more to that ragged unkemptness by the second. "Can we talk in private?"

"… Why not?" Blake sighed.

The two stepped away, completely unnoticed by the hungry children. Sly locked onto the two birds and leapt through the trees with no more trace of his presence than a single falling leaf. He kept himself hidden at a fair distance as the two vanished behind a giant oak tree, easily outclassing all the others in size and age. Once all eyes were seemingly off, appearances were shed as the two let the apparent fatigue and stress weighing on them show in full sorrowful splendor.

"All right, what kept you? You've never taken this long on a supply run before."

"I told you I'd be back, didn't I?" He scratched his head. "I always come back."

"I assumed you'd be back." She cut in. "If nothing happens, you come back. And tah-rah-rah-boom-dee-ay, you came back again, except something happened, and at a time like now when we don't need it happening. So what was it?"

"Nothing important, okay? I'm back. That's all that matters."

"You pissed off some cop, didn't you?" Blake kept silent. "I knew it – always got to pick a fight with the law."

"No, just the assholes toting it on their gaudy little belts. Guess we know where tax money's going, by the way. Aside from the ever-essential Donut Fund."

"Blake!"

Blake stuttered. "All right, naggy Nancy. You want my daily schedule again? Fine! I was late – call the national guard – but you can blame it on the ring-tailed Don Juan giving me an offer to go globe-trotting with his gang of master criminals!"

Sly nearly slipped from the branch.

Daisy blinked, astonished. "Ah, wh-what are you talking about? Who talked to you?"

"Do the initials 'SC' paint a picture?"

"Wait… you actually met THE Sly Cooper?" She raised her hands to her beak. "The master thief wanted in, like, every country in the world?"

"The one and, thankfully, the only." Blake leaned against the tree, smirking at the dove's tongue-tied expression. "He comes on with this whole 'Most Interesting Man in the World' routine thinking some starry-eyed punk wants a chance at the big leagues but all I had to say to that was 'stay thirsty, my friend.'"

"So… you turned him down?" She asked slowly.

Blake cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "You almost sound disappointed… is there a hidden rebel in our precious angel after all?"

"Maybe, but I'd prefer your outer rebel keep his hands off it." Daisy smiled. "And I'm not disappointed by the way. You've got more important things to do than stealing the Queen's Jewels."

"Like what, swiping her dinner?" Blake scoffed, not a trace of humor in his wry response. "It's not like an allowance or whatever's in the sack turns anything around for those kids, anyway. What's the life lesson? Beg and you've got the world on a silver platter? It's all dirty money, anyway. Heh… Cooper only scratched the surface."

The two stood for a moment in silence. Sly felt a chill at the somber silence that had fallen upon the two who joked and playfully bantered only a moment ago. He waited for who would make the next move when Daisy spoke again. "W-Well, we won't need to worry about all that soon enough, right."

Blake grinned. "If you haven't figured out by now this bad luck bird's a trouble magnet, there is no hope."

"Take it from another trouble magnet. Things could be a lot worse."

The two birds jumped when Sly appeared in a shower of leaves from the branches, unable to help from announcing his presence. He put on no airs, no veils of suave wisdom, just a calm and gentle approach needed for two young people whose wings were apparently clipped by unnecessary burdens. The two just stood watching him, and he bore their rightful shock and suspicion as he felt was only natural.

"God, you just don't know when to quit." Blake sighed. "You ever considered going into politics?

"Uh, let me guess…" Daisy frowned. "Mr. Cooper?"

"'Mr. Cooper' was my old man. Just Sly." The raccoon coked his cane back. "And yeah, safe bet as to why I'm here."

"About how many languages can I say 'no' in?" The raven seethed. "Seriously, I can say it in French too."

"Say it in Swahili for all I care." Sly smiled. "I'm gonna keep coming back and asking before I can get a yes out of you. Thooough I might even lay off for a maybe."

"Okay, can we just run through something important again, like why you want me so badly?" Blake demanded. He tried to keep himself sturdy, but Sly could see cracks of desperation in his seemingly calm façade. "I'm just some run of the mill burglar. Maybe a jump up from some douche with a gun and a ski mask, but there's the bar! Why!?"

The raccoon blinked. "I already told you. Because I think you're good enough. You've got the skills, got the chops, and got the character. You fit the job description perfectly."

The raven's feathers bristled and he turned away in infuriated silence, glaring at some random patch of dry grass. Sly blinked again seeing his face clench, like every compliment he gave to the young prodigy was treated like an attack on his person, blasting boulders into the weak spots. Blake's anger withered into exhaustive misery; it made Sly rack his brain behind his trained composure in wondering if there was a correct approach to take with the young raven.

Daisy's words were the blade that severed the tension between the two. "Look… Mr. Cooper. The offer is… appreciated, but Blake has a life here, whether he wants to admit it or not. The last thing he needs is to become some full-fledged criminal."

"You've already gotten an answer, after trying every approach outside of threatening me." Blake said almost apathetically. "Now leave, and keep out of the kids' sight. We've got a busy schedule here."

"Yeah, your 'angelic' friend here mentioned this being a bad time." Daisy blushed at the master thief's comment.

"What a surprise you were eavesdropping." Blake drawled. "But pretty much, we'll be saying 'adieu' to this dump soon enough. I'm sure you can agree an abandoned park doesn't exactly serve as a suitable environment for childcare."

"Noted for when I discover the joys of parenting."

"Just past here's the docks. A trade ship there's been loading cargo ready to set sail for the U.S. in a few days. Paris is throwing in the towel with orphans, so we're jumping ship… onto a ship."

Sly crossed his arms. "You're sneaking all those kids onto a freighter filled with grouchy sailors undetected? Quite the task. Think you can pull it off?"

"You seem to think I can."

There was that enjoyable heated gust of defiance again, Sly noted with a smile. It went past skill or technique, morals or ethics, yet encompassed it all at once, lost in the wild air that was the raven's character. It was just as he had noted before when bearing fangs on it with Bentley: there was no logical, definitive reason he wanted some teenager on his team. He just wanted him because in every sense of the word, Blake was good.

"True enough…" Sly walked away, the windmills of his mind revolving with each step. "Well then, I'll leave you to your great escape."

"So you're done pestering me?"

"Not even close." He turned the corner around another tree and swung his cane to reach the branch, raising himself back into the veil of green above.

The two birds, almost rooted to the ground themselves in apprehension, returned to the other children who sparkled and swirled around them like drifting leaves. For a moment, they seemed to be walking on air surrounded by all the excited squeals and comments, though Blake quickly sank back to earth as he walked with almost lead feet, Sly noted with a mix of worry and amusement. His face turned away sporting a scowl as they made it to their series of tents past the clearing, with each child, young guardians included, returned to their makeshift abodes.

Blake pulled out a backpack from underneath his ratty, patched up sleeping bag while Daisy followed suit, though with far less aggression. The raven rummaged through his sack and forced various odds and ends from papers to snacks with a more forceful approach as if to mutilate what was inside. Daisy had only watched the ensuing storm in piteous apathy.

"Wild guess. You're upset?"

"Thanks for noticing, Sigmund Freud."

She shook her head. "Leave it to you to stew on ancient history. He asked, repeatedly, you said no. End of story, move on."

"You think this is the end!?" Blake shouted. "This was the third time, and you heard he's not settling for whatever I want to say on the matter. Then again, it's just what you'd expect from some self-serving, two-bit, egotistical criminal. He's just like all the rest of them out there."

"You realize that makes you sound like an Interpol agent?" The dove chuckled in irony.

"Ugh! Don't remind me!"

"Okay, so don't mind me flipping it around – for curiosity's sake, mind you – but why is it you keep turning him down?"

The assault of items stopped right there, and a long pause of silence came with it. Blake didn't turn around, didn't show his face, just remained almost frozen stiff with his feathers only slightly twitching to show there was still life. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I asked. Why are you saying no?"

Blake slammed his clawed feathers onto the beaten leather. "Come on… you've gotta… of all the…"

"I've known you since we were kids, out on the streets, turned away by every person at every door we ever knocked on." The dove raised a soft wool blanket from her own pouch and stroked it tenderly. "You've said more than once that you wouldn't wish that life on anyone, and so here you are, scraping by for a bunch of little kids that fate gave the cold shoulder to and ended up the same. Thieving aside, wouldn't you want to join because you think you could be useful?"

Blake's shoulders sagged, for once unable to hold up. Daisy moved the blanket to her lap and spared him any interrogating glance by keeping her eyes down upon her lap. "That is what you want, right? To be useful?"

"… What does it matter what I want?"

Daisy looked at him. "It matters more than you think."

The dove solemnly watched him scramble for emotional stability. His eyes clamped open and shut like bear traps and his breathing was harder than that of a full-grown elephant. He reached out to grab the next item for his pack only to ghost the surface of some leather-bound book. The only thing that managed to snap the raven out of his internal war…

… were the sirens in the distance.

"W-What the!?" He startled.

Sly's cane crept from the cover and pulled back, revealing the hanging raccoon. "Uh, you might want to get a move on, rebel leader. Interpol's closing in."

Daisy's eyes widened considerably. "I-Interpol...?"

"That can't be! I timed it just right!"

All three dashed from the tent and looked to the surveying road ahead. The echoes of the sirens were clear now and racing ever closer, even the trademark flashing lights viewable from the distance. Sly only looked to the two birds and found them frozen, even their downs as hard as steel with tension.

"I'd heard you guys had crashed Benedict's casino on the other side of town…" The raven rasped. "Those lunkheads at Interpol were supposed to be all over it while I made that last run. Dammit! Now of all times, they pay attention to a bunch of scraggly orphans!"

"Why ARE they coming here?" Daisy asked. "Pissing off cops is normal for you, but calling in a whole squadron!? Did you blow something up or what!?"

Blake looked away with a taut grimace on his beak, tightening the one on hers further.

"I'm a little curious about that myself. Takes a lot more than busting someone's car to cause this." Sly poked. "...My pal mentioned something about a bit of a spike in youth crime recently. I take it that has something to do with you?"

"... I'd been hitting that warehouse district for a few weeks now, stocking up… guess I got sloppy at some point." The raven's face softened in defeat. "Guess I'm really not the prodigal thief you thought I was…"

"What are we going to do?" Daisy asked.

At once the children emerged from their tents, some clamoring onto each other to see the approaching cars. Many of them began to mumble, cry out in panic, teeter between the trees, their guardians, or their tents for cover or some combination of the three. Daisy gathered the children and did as best she could to calm the ever-growing panic by offering shushes and head rubs in between all the intelligible comments.

"You may be able to get the tykes out of here before the cops show up, but no way are you gonna be able to keep them hidden." Sly advised. "Let alone sneak them all the way to the dock."

"...Then there's only one thing left to do."

Sly, who had focused solely on the approaching police squadron, turned to him. "What? You're going through with it?"

Blake shrugged. "It really is America or bust, now…"

"Yeah, hate to keep raining on your parade, but just so you know the crews brought in some extra manpower to get their cargo loaded up quick." Sly pointed his cane towards the ocean, where plumes of smoke could already be seen filling the air. "Looks like they'll be leaving any minute now."

Blake's black feathers could have turned as white as Daisy's in that moment. "W-What!? No way! I-I had it planned-"

"Rule 1 of being a thief, kid. Be ready for anything."

The raven only stared back, shoulders tense with fury but limp with dread. It was a look the master thief had seen on many of his gang's targets over the years, once the job had been done and he had bounded off with their hordes. It faded into shadow as Blake bowed his head, relieving him of the sight while it still freshly burned in memory. For an endless moment, only his heavy breaths and the sounds of the sirens were heard, both loudening in the span of it.

Blake clenched his fist and rose his head, a defiant ghost of a smirk to Sly's admission of reality. It almost got a flinch out of him. "Noted."

Both looked to Daisy and the children, only the former looking back while the little ones shut their eyes and huddled into each others' masses. The black bird sighed, tightened his scarf and turned away. He spread his wings and shot towards the tops of the trees to see the charging squadron of cars and their flashing lights ahead.

Sly joined him, landing atop the closest branch. "Look, let me help out here. I might be able to buy you some time."

"I don't need your help." Blake didn't even look at him.

"You don't have the luxury to be stubborn here!"

"I'm a bad luck bird. I've never had any kind of luxury, and I've come to terms with that. Now butt out."

The two looked down and saw the others sneak into the trees toward the end of the park. The last of them managed to sneak away just as the officers finally arrived at the entrance and broke down the withered metal gate in one fell swoop.

It really was all or nothing now.

A normal edge of the town for Sly where buildings and gardens morphed into boats and gangplanks was the goal line for the herd of runaway children. They ran along the shadows and ducked beneath windows as quickly as they could, leaving any light to the gathering moths. Any stragglers that tripped along their hastily tied shoelaces were picked up by Blake before they could hit the ground and brought back on the run, or even before Sly could make the move himself. It was admirable, if not irritating for him to only be left to run and observe.

True to Sly's intel, the freighter they were aiming for had been loaded to the deck with crates, the thick stack of moonlit-wrapped smoke flashing amidst plumes their final warning. Just as the entire group made it past the final street, they darted into an old and boarded-up warehouse, with the three elders watching for stray heads from the young. Best their wandering eyes not meet the watching gazes of the multitude of bulky gorilla sailors.

Blake took a step past and stood at the entrance with a gun raised. He looked to Daisy, her face painted with worry. "I'm gonna draw them out. Buy you guys some time."

"Please tell me you're joking."

"When I give the signal, make a run for the boat. There should still be a little time before they set off."

Daisy's disbelief was only paused by the horn sounding from the boat. "And that's not a big 'time's up' for you? You'll just get beaten up by a bunch of gorillas for nothing! Blake, it's over!"

"It's not over until that boat's out of the dock! We're too close to turn back!"

"But-"

Blake's hand grabbed hers. "I told you I was going to get you out of here, away from them! And that's what I'm going to do!"

Before she could even protest, the young raven was out in a flash of feathers. Sly looked to her, seeing that protest might not have been on her mind with the flash of hope in her eyes. He quickly followed out and spire landed on a nearby pole, then bounded to join Blake as he bounced and soared past stacks of containers. The two maintained equal distance and pace as they remained on the move, with the raccoon keeping his eye on him as fixed as he kept his eye on the path ahead.

"She's right, you know." He chimed in, vaulting off his cane and sliding down the rope on a nearby boat. "You're cutting it pretty close here."

"With an attitude like that, I'm surprised the only stripes you got are the ones on your tail."

"I'm serious. You're probably not gonna make it."

Blake paid no mind and surged forward, like the veteran thief wasn't even there. He dove down with grace and speed, but switched to a flurry of slashes and bullets in an instant. The crewmen on the docks had no time to react before they were downed one by one like dominoes, even as those watching took notice and rushed to swarm the boy with clenched hands and angry glares. Blake dodged and vaulted around each of them like swirling wind, though his own focus trailed just the same.

The blare of the horn all but seized his attention away from the sailors, allowing them to regain the momentum. Little by little, the raven found himself pushed back with less and less resistance to counter.

"No…!"

He struggled from underneath a mountain of hairy gorilla bodies, but the weight was too much. The remainder of sailors climbed aboard while a handful kept him pressed down to the point splinters could hold him in place. All he could do was watch as his hopes slowly set sail from the dock.

One gorilla laughed with a hoot until a sharp blow to the head knocked him out, with all the others joined him. Sly pulled the broken youth up and shook him. "Get it together, kid. We've gotta go!"

"Wha…?"

Though the ship's horn still echoed in their heads, approaching sirens were becoming more prevalent. Daisy and the children arrived with the coast clear of hostile sailors, all looking to him with fearful eyes. For a moment, the raven turned his gaze back to the departing boat in vain faith, though hearing their cries turned him back to stark reality.

"I'm scared…"

"Blake, are we gonna get taken…?"

"Can we… go home?"

Sly sympathized with the youth, a victory just narrowly seized only to slip away, and it only became worse with even his loved ones telling him to surrender. But reality offered the greater benefit to what was undoubtedly a foolish pipe dream now, and so grabbed the youngest child and shoved him in Blake's arms. A look offering solace was all he could give to him now.

How the dock didn't just collapse with the sudden arrival of ten or so police cars angrily swerved onto it was nothing short of a miracle. Dozens of Interpol agents came out with grips on their shock pistols so hard the handles might have snapped from the pressure. Like gas they fanned out searching every inch of the dock for the criminals their squadron leader had reports on. Said leader came barreling out of the car, the same tubby cat who had harassed Blake earlier, with a deeper scowl than anything any donut could fix.

"Where is he!? I know he's here!"

"Sargent, are you sure those reports were accurate?" An officer asked.

"Whadaya think did all this? A pigeon!?" He gestured to the broken dock. "We got confirmation from the dock workers, so when ya track him down, you can add 'assault' to da list o' charges!"

"Sir, we're supposed to be finishing up the casino shutdown. Inspector Fox won't approve-"

"Screw dat bitch! She wants ta play cleanup, dat's her business! I know dat brat is here and nobody's leavin' 'till we catch 'im and throw 'im in the darkest hole we got! Now keep lookin!"

All the surrounding officers sighed before they continued their work, the cat cop clearly more vigilant in his hunt for a juvenile than any of them. They assisted the workers in making any repairs and tending to the wounded while the cat just shouted more profanities and concocted more charges in rage. The other officers soon grew tired of the fruitless search as well as their sergeants endless string of insults, and eventually hopped in their cars and drove away, with his screams of indignance trailing behind them along with his squad car.

The pitiful hunt driven by petty grudges wasn't even of note to the target himself, looking from a warehouse roof that he and the others escaped to in the nick of time. All Blake could see was the sailing boat still in sight with his plumes of smoke blotting out the night sky. Sly stood beside him and gave him silence he no doubt needed to get his mind back in working order.

"Just like that… months of planning and dreaming… up in smoke."

"Well, if at first you don't succeed..." Sly quipped innocently.

The glare Blake shot him could literally have done him in like a bullet. "Really?"

Sly concealed his regretful grimace with the rim of his cap. "Uh, right. Not helping…" He inhaled and put a hand to the bird's shoulder. "Blake. I've seen how important this is to you, and helping out family is something I get, believe it or not. So, I think I can help you out here."

"How generous… or not." Blake eyed suspiciously. "I'm waiting for the catch."

"Right. My gang and I are looking into something right now, and it could lead to something big. And I have a gut feeling that it will be. You help us out on this one job, just one, and I will personally see to it you and these kids a one-way ticket to the States. You can do whatever you want after without me knocking on your door." He extended an open hand. "So… deal?"

The raven's downcast eyes shifted away like static; Sly could almost see the millions of pigments of thoughts scrambling in his head. He almost looked to be trying to conceive reasons to refuse, though all he could do to placate them was give his hand and his word with it. That open honesty was what he hoped finally drew Blake's attention back and make him stare at the open palm for the longest time.

"Way to pitch when I'm desperate. You should consider a career in sales…" He quipped.

"The only thing I'm giving out is opportunity."

Blake exhaled, and slowly, but finally, shook the master thief's hand. "Let's not go that far, but fine. Deal."

Sly swore he hadn't felt the sudden rise inside him since the day he and his longtime friends began their careers as criminals. With Blake's feathered hand in his, some great milestone in his journey was cemented, hardened with promise and potential. After finally shaking enough for the young raven's preference, he took a glittering plate from his pocket and placed it in Blake's now empty palm.

"To make it official."

"I feel so fulfilled." The raven quipped and pocketed the item. As if the spotlight dimmed from him and his new ring-tailed partner in crime, he turned back to Daisy and the children, all staring at him. "Daisy, guys, uh…"

"You're really going through with this, aren't you?" Daisy solemnly asked.

"Are you gonna leave us, Blake?" A child asked.

The blunt question gained a clear reaction from the bird as far as Sly could see, but he quickly swallowed it.

"Yeah, for a while." Blake's confirmation left tears ready to form in each little one's eyes. All the raven could do was to kneel and place his hand on the head of the asking child. "But I'll be back. Count on that." Sly noticed the last part was directed towards the dove, but found himself on point when he turned back to him.

"It's on you if I don't have a proper homecoming for these twerps."

The raccoon popped his cane and held it back. "I'll have you home in time for dinner."

A beep suddenly rang from his ear; he pressed the button on his communicator to hear Bentley's voice chime in. "Sly! Come in, Sly!"

"Bentley! Good news, I take it?"

"I'll get to it right after I chew you out for being so late! Where have you been? I was that close to having Murray hunt you down!"

"Save the fun stuff for Carmelita. So, what do you got."

Bentley's tired sigh almost garnered interference – Sly had never felt so relieved to have a volume setting on his earpiece. "I've run an extensive number of tests on the card, and I've found some clues indicating a possible source. Head back to the Safehouse and I'll brief you and Murray on the details."

"Sounds good." Sly smiled. "Oh, and Bentley?"

"Yeah?"

Sly looked to Blake and smirked. "Tell Murray to make room in the van. I'm bringing one more."

"… I hate you so much."

It took every ounce of charm and persuasiveness I had, but the Cooper Gang managed to score a new member.

I wanted to keep my word and I had every intention to, but I would only hope Blake's time with us would give him inspiration to stay on as a full-fledged member. It's not in keeping with my criminal demeanor but I was honest when I said he had potential and it would be a waste for him not to make the most of it. Other than that, the kid called it – I don't really take no for an answer.

We got back to the hideout and mostly he just laid back with Murray while I tried to keep Bentley from going atomic bomb on my tail. Not that I blamed him; a new member at this point was like adding a new piece to a finished puzzle. He settled down by the time we got to the briefing but this wasn't the end of it.

And I agreed. This was just the beginning.

IT IS DONE! IT IS FINALLY DONE!

Sorry this took unbelievably long, but I do have my reasons. Partly this was because I was performing an experiment with how I wrote my chapters – trying to make them like little stories in and of themselves. But with this having taken as long as it did, I think I'll go another route and consider how scenes will play out. I'll also think about reinstating a word limit on my chapters – 5000 or maybe less so I can get them out quicker.

On the other hand, a lot has happened to me in my normal life as well. I am finally working, so that means I have less time to work on chapters. I also got Persona 5 and I invested a lot of time in that since it was the first Persona game I ever completed. And to top it off, I'm going back to school so I can get a certificate for Computer Science, so that's even more time to devote. But I'll be slowly getting myself into a routine where I can write a little bit every day. I'm still researching what makes good writing as well – this story is a step in the right direction, but I want my next works to be fully fleshed out.

So that will be that. I'll be working on my current HTTYD chapters after this chapter is posted since it's been ages since I last updated those. I hope the fans of those stories will give love to this one as well.

Review, favorite, follow, all that jazz! Keep posted!

P.S: In the time it took for this chapter to get up, a Sly TV series was announced! How awesome is that!?