Chapter 16

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"How's the tea?"

Sitting on the chair, slowly stretching the fingers on one paw, Carm looked up at Dr Silverfox, her head tilting from one side to the other for a second. "Reminds me of this time I was in India."

The silverfox ran his fingers against each other. "Hmmm, I mean it is Sri Haylankan, so…"

"I was stuck in the desert," she continued, thinking back. "And the only water was from a stand pipe, which you drank from with a pewter cup." She took another sip and nodded her head. "Just as I remembered… -HIC." Her paw came up to cover her mouth, before she looked away, frowning. "Thought those had stopped…" she hissed.

"Well," Judy said, walking up. "If that's the worst… -Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital? I could hear that thing of yours, it's…"

"Only a few times worse than a taser," she said. "No more than a defibrillator…"

"Which is designed to stop your heart!" she said, as Nick stepped in.

"Well, more turn off and on again," he said, only to back away from a bunny death glare.

"It looks and sounds like a lot," she said, "but most of that is from the burning silicon core and the cloud of vapour around that carries the charge." She groaned a bit as she stood up, trying to stretch her legs. "And as I said, nothing I -HIC haven't dealt with before."

"How long did the hiccups last?" Nick asked.

"First time it's caused -HIC… these," she said, a distinct frown on her face. "And honestly, not the strangest symptoms. A few times, when I must have been zapped on the head, it -HIC… did a strange thing with my voice."

"Stuttering?" Judy asked.

"No… My accent completely changed! I went all american for a while, then a second hit altered it a bit…" she smiled. "Heureusement, rien d'étrange ne semble se produire cette fois-ci."

She smirked a little while Dr Silverfox managed a small chuckle.

"HIC!"

That brought a few more chuckles, including one from a so far very quiet mammal at the table.

"Feeling better?" Carmelita asked, her ears going down as the younger mammal turned away. "You did nothing wrong…"

"I hurt you," he sullenly murmured.

"I ordered you to," she said, stepping up on shaky legs and walking over. "I knew exactly what was coming, and was willing to bear it. I -HIC saw a chance to try and get that wolf, right here, right now, and like a soldier calling down the artillery on herself I did it for the cause. You did everything I asked of you." She moved to put a paw on his shoulder, only for him to flinch away, staring down at his feet.

"Then in that case I failed you," Kris said. "I was too slow in picking it up. Too slow in firing. And when I did fire, it was going to miss until it hit you. And so you suffered needlessly due to my failure."

She closed her eyes as Kris' father walked up. "Kris… No one is blaming you for anything. You couldn't have done anything…"

"I could have been more prompt and taken down both her and the wolf, in which case we could have found out what he and the others want, end it all," he breathed out. "Or I could have been less prompt, and nobody would have had to get hurt. I had two options and I cut down the middle and made nobody happy. I did exactly the worst thing possible."

…

"So did I, once," Judy said, walking over. "I messed up, I hurt mammals. But, do you know what?"

Kris looked up at her as she smiled back.

"I felt rotten for a bit, but I got better. It will pass, and no-one is angry with you. No-one."

"No -Hic one," Carmelita said, "including me."

"So you don't intend to pursue any legal…" he began, only for the vixen across from him, her eyes widening and ears peeling back, to cut in sharply.

"NO! No, no -Hic no," she said, looking down. "I know you were falsely accused and held," she said, grabbing and holding his paw. "And believe me, believe me, I know what it feels like." Her paw trembled a bit. "To feel at the cold hard mercy, the end of that long arm, you always thought would be on your side. Not knowing how long it might go on for, how long until the wrong is righted, or whether it'll carry on shackling you for the rest of your life. I know how scary that is, and how small you feel, and how much the anger burns inside of you. And if you think I'd ever choose to put you or any other mammal I know to be innocent through that? Even once, yet alone again. Then I'd rather be back in a cell on a very real charge."

Kris looked up at her, and a slow smile grew on his muzzle, one shared by the vixen looking down at him.

"-Hic!"

Anything more to be said was broken off by a knock on the door, a small prevosts squirrel (or tri coloured squirrel, given his red front and chin, white sides and black back and tail) looking in. The building manager, he'd almost immediately been on the scene despairing at the damage caused. Then, only given time to make sure the sprinkler was turned off, he was sent to look at all the camera recordings and see if there were any juicy clips of the wolf, wanted poster ready.

His look did not inspire confidence. "N-n-nothing…" he said, paws thrown up in the air. "The cameras just… poof! And if you don't believe me…"

"We believe you," Nick said. "Our radios weren't working. We had four cruisers a minute from here and not one could get the message."

"Couldn't you have called them on your cell phone?" he asked.

"I'm pretty sure Spots would have tried," Nick said, looking back at Judy. "But by the time it took to work out which cruisers were the ones nearby, look up which officers were in them and find their numbers…"

"This whole mess was already over and I called him on my phone to update him," she said, her eyes widening a little. "So, if he tries the same trick again… We've got an ace up our sleeve!"

Nick smiled. "Our enemy is teched up enough to have a radio blocker, and to hack into your camera network or something, and little miss optimist here is jumping up and down at the fact we have the power of the cell phone on our side."

"And your suggestion," she asked, paws on hips.

He waved a paw at her. "Learning to take compliments is still an area for improvement though. -But making it easier to look up phone numbers and bypass the radio is a genuine good idea… Maybe the Chief can find someone on injury and office work and give them the job of putting it together… Speaking of which…"

"My compensation?" the squirrel asked, breathing in and giving a scuridean hiss from the side of his mouth.

"Phone up this card here," Nick said, handing it over. The small mammal took it, and finding it just the wrong size to hold underarm, hoisted it above his head with both paws and then scurried off.

"While a full system like yours might take some time to do," Judy began, looking over to Dr Silverfox, "I think you should have a direct line to every cop on duty in the area. It is a good thing you called Nick first after all. Otherwise Clawhauser would have been stuck trying to reach those guys."

"And I think we should have someone undercover by the front door at all times," Nick said. "I don't know what his goals were, but who's to say Rattigan won't send another crew later."

A familiar voice cut in. "Who's to say that it won't be a different mammal sending them?"

All eyes turned up to Mr Fox, who'd spent most of this time standing in the corner of the room, having been kindly but very firmly asked to stay quiet and write down everything he knew for the record.

"Done writing it down?" Judy asked, looking at the papers in his paw.

"Five minutes ago, to be exaaaaccttt… -Now!"

Nick looked to Dr Silverfox. "Is that a new record or something, or…"

"Regardless, I thought my own observations might be extra useful now," he carried on. "After all, our devious and mysterious wolf said he was a third party."

"Our devious and mysterious wolf," Nick countered, finger up. "May have been… Hmmm, what's the word of this strange and mysterious technique? Ah yes, lying. Almost slipped my tongue there."

"Or…" Mr Fox said, putting a finger forward. "You believing he's in with Rattigan may be…"

…

…

…

Nick opened his mouth to speak…

"-Jumping to conclusions," Mr Fox rounded off. "After all, from the many discussions we've had and overheard, there is more than one party involved in this. Could it be one fishing for information on the other? Or a third group, aiming to get into the stakes…"

"In which case," Dr Silverfox said, "my attempt to just feed him information I thought he already knew only ended up feeding him a lot of useful information. And, even if not…"

"That necklace," Carmelita said. "You said Judy looked after it, for a bear. ¿Sí?"

The bunny nodded. "For Kozlov himself, I… -am aquatenced, with the daughter of the former head of the Tundra Town mafia after saving her life. After her fathers fall, she came to me to just work out some frustrations, and he requested I looked after his necklace while he went on his trip. When he got back, he even said that someone had tried to break into his home, so… -Maybe it was someone working for this wolf? Maybe it's the second part of a set, though given that his one is damaged…"

"It sounds like a coincidence," Carm said, closing her eyes and pinching her muzzle. "But we cannot rule out that it wasn't. I still wish we'd seen that bear first!"

Judy felt her ears droop down the back of her head, only for a paw to place themselves there. "In which case," Nick said, "we might not have been able to get here in time. Hindsight is twenty-twenty."

"Sí," she groaned. "But I want to talk to that bear, as soon as I can."

"Yeah," Dr Silverfox said, nodding. "Seeing as my brother in law…" Mr Fox's eyes widened. "-mentioning it was…" He stood in front and shook his paws. "-when he took right off."

"Ah, well twenty-twenty," Mr Fox rounded off. "Part of the club, am I right?"

"You're right," Nick said, "And… did you say his name, or just…"

"'That polar bear's necklace,' Dr Silverfox said. "I remember, that was what he said."

"In which case there's an awful lot of polar bears for the wolf to try and get through," Nick said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Hopefully."

"Because if he has an idea that it might be Kozlov," Judy said, foot drumming on the floor.

"Well, if the wolf was trying to burgle him earlier, he'd already know," Carmelita said. "We don't know who's after him for what. We just need to get to him first. Inform all cruisers to look out for him, get someone to wait outside his door, maybe even go on the radio." Her voice rose. "We have to get to him first!" She let it hang for a second. "His life may be in danger."

"Right," Judy said, getting up. "Speaking of that…" She turned to Mr Fox.

"Glad to always be of service," he said, bowing down.

"Thanks. And I do know what it's like," she said, looking down and fussing with her foot paw on the floor. "To want to jump in and save the day. And you probably thought you could knock him out or take that necklace, and if you could… that would be great."

"Exactly, wolf-beating and fox-provingly correct," Mr Fox said.

"But we're dealing with things we don't understand," she said. "Things that are dangerous. Things that we as officers might be out of our depth with. And you're a civilian, a father to a newborn child and… Please, you might think you can jump in and do it alone and fight the danger going on, so did I. I thought it was all on me and I could, had, to handle it until it all came crashing down on me." She looked over at Nick for a second, before back at Mr Fox. "And I was lucky that my wakeup call wasn't that bad. You… I don't want you to be running along one day, thinking you can handle it, only to be hit with the realisation that you chewed off too much, and there's nothing you can do to stop yourself from being wiped out by whatever is out there. So please, for your family, stay out of this."

Mr Fox paused, thinking for a second, only for Carmelita to pipe in. "The last thing we need is glory hogs running in and having to be rescued," she said, standing up and crossing her paws as she looked him down. "Stay at home, do your job, look after your family, and stay away from any trouble. I don't want to hear your name come up again."

"I can assist in other…"

"No assistance," she said, cutting him off. "No nothing. Nada. As I said, you want to go out there and get glory? You want to show yourself off as this marvelous, macho, mammal? This sly as Sly fox? Well, you are only a fraction as sly as that and in the end even that wasn't enough. And it won't be enough for you. Go home to your family and stay there, out of the way, living a humdrum boring life. Because that's a privilege that you are lucky to have, and it's about time you act like it, and not going around trying to get mammals all in awe about yourself."

His tail flickered. "I resent this implication that I am only in this for quote-unquote glory. Now, I am humble enough to acknowledge that that may be a large portion of…"

"Try living without any," she said. "For a change."

"And you know what, I shall and will!" And with that he gave her a bow. "Good day."

And with that, he went.

"That was reasonably excessive," Kris commented, looking at her. The others had a slight eye on her too. Not angry, more apprehensive.

She shrugged. "Reasonably excessive? Or excessively reasonable?" she said, turning to Nick and Judy. "Let's carry on and solve this, without liabilities like him."

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"Honey, am I a liability?"

Mrs Fox, eyes half lidding, looked up from where she was sitting. "Why are you asking?"

Mr Fox, who'd returned home after a reported 'major and totally handled' incident at her brother-in-law's, looked up from his newspaper. "Because you always asked me to listen to others' opinions of me."

"I always asked you to take what they said into account," she clarified. "You normally listen to them and ignore them."

"I refute that."

"Or decide to specifically try and prove them wrong."

"And I'm going to prove to you that's not the case."

"Ending in you going off and doing something rash to prove a point of some kind."

"Excuse me a second, I think I need to look at some things in my study," he said, standing up and making for it. He only managed to get to the staircase door before his wife called out.

"Frederick Fox," she scolded.

"That is my name," he smiled, opening and walking through.

She scowled. "Fred."

He froze, before turning back. "Ah, when she says your short name…"

"I need a talk with you," she said, cradling the baby kit in her lap as she stood up. "Hold the baby."

"My pleasure," he said, taking his newest son. "And now?"

"You can't go running off for a start," she said, folding her arms. "Which means you'll have to stand here and listen to me. And by that I mean listen, as in do what I say, no questions."

He opened his mouth to say something, only to pause mid breath. Thinking for a second, he waved her on. "Go ahead."

"I'm guessing that when you dropped Kris off you ran head first into whatever this was, tried to help, only ended up in getting someone else hurt, was called a liability and now you're having a small mid life crisis over it. Am I correct?"

"I take offense at that notion," he said, pulling himself up slightly and causing Rowan to burble a little from the movement.

"Beh…"

"And so does he."

"Aaaahhh uuu."

"Indeed, I didn't hurt anyone. That was Kris."

"Really…?" she asked. Leaning in, she let her tail swoop behind her a bit.

"Absolutely. The french-spanish police inspector trying to tackle a one-eyed wolf to the floor dropped her ball lightning launching electric shock cannon as they crashed and tumbled down the stairs, ordering Kris to shoot them both as she did so, the wolf then throwing her so she absorbed the whole shock and ended up getting hiccup inducing frazzled."

She looked at him silently.

"Bah…"

"Okay then," she sighed, taking the kit back. Mr Fox blinked.

"Okay then…?"

"I know you're telling the truth…"

"Thank you."

"-Because when you lie you usually defer and dismiss things, and in this case your story was so patently ludicrous it could only be verbatim," she summarised. "I presume you made sure my nephew was okay."

"He received repeated assurances from multiple parties that he did nothing wrong."

"Well in that case all's well," she smiled, turning back to the seat.

Mr Fox watched her go, muzzle twitching slightly. "But I didn't."

"And did you do anything wrong?" she asked, levelling her gaze at him.

"I attempted a sneak incapacitation slash pocket-picking important possession liberation of the wolf as he appeared to be trying to detonate his way in to reach your brother in law. He then turned and faced off against me for a second before the other officers arrived and scared him off."

"So you didn't really succeed but didn't really fail?"

"There may be a small potential that I let slip a seemingly unimportant but actually very important bit of information to him."

"Ah," she said, resting back down.

"After which Judy gave a fairly reasonable argument in favour of stepping back and staying out of trouble, before the vixen cop gave me a very rude lecture about being a 'quote-unquote' liability and not at all sly as Sly, the second one somehow having a capital letter for some as yet unknown to me but probably very subtextually important reason."

"I understand," Felicity said, nodding.

"You do?" he asked.

"I know this is hard," she said, looking at him. "But listen to the vixen. And listen as in do exactly what she says, no questions."

He folded his arms. "But what if I don't want to listen to the vixen."

"If you feel she's hurt your feelings…"

"-Which I don't. I just think she was being very emotionally callous towards me."

"Then listen to this vixen instead," Felicity said, pointing at herself.

"...Okay?"

"Good, now listen closely," she said. "Listen to that vixen."

He frowned. "And just not assist at all, in any way, even if I could genuinely be of assistance?" he asked. "All because she thinks I'm some kind of, to quote her, glory hog."

"Well, are you?"

"No," he said, crossing his paws. "I merely aim to complete tasks and provide assistance or success for my family, community, city, etcetera in my own, naturally brilliant and awe inspiring way."

"So you want them to see you as naturally brilliant and awe inspiring," she pressed.

"Well, obviously, yes…" he began. "Who doesn't? Is it not a core and inherent part of the psyche of every single mammal in existence? Isn't it one of the prime driving factors for every healthy social interaction? Wouldn't the very lack of it potentially be a major esteem issue, the lack of said drive allowing a freefall into depressive nihilism, as quoted to me by my trusty pal Kylie." He put his foot down. "Do you not hope that people like your paintings and your food somewhat, and in doing so share those feelings and admiration with and towards their creator? Do you not hope that your children enjoy the life you provide and thus look up to you, are grateful to you, love you. Do you not feel in some way that as you make people laugh or happy or verbally defeat them in a conversation, that they will come out with an elevated respect for yourself? Because while there may be some who do not, I say that it is only a very rare few who can claim complete innocence in that regard, and if we are to condemn all tainted, however faintly, interactions as invalid, then surely we invalidate the near entirety of happiness and joy and goodwill in this world, and leave it an infinitely darker and more miserable place. And if there is to be a line where the taint sets in, then how is that line to be set, who out there has the authority to set it, and what right do they have to claim judgement on the morality of the lives of common mammals!"

"I see the vixen was right then."

He folded his paws. "Do you really think that little of me?"

"Yes dear."

"Well, okay then, maybe I won't help. Maybe I'll just stand by and let the literal wolves at the door bark and fight and be a menace. That'll show them!"

"Freddy," she said, looking up. "That sounds good."

"I beg to differ."

"Well, let's ask a third opinion," she said, looking down at the kit in her arms. "What do you think?"

Rowan looked around a bit, flapped his arms, and then pulled them up into a vague approximation of a shrug.

Felicity shook her head. "I'll take that as an I don't know then."

"So?" Mr Fox asked. "Even Stevens on this highly complex issue."

She narrowed her eyes. "You know what? Sure, you can help out…"

"Ah, good to see you've seen reason."

"-If," she clarified, "you do it in a way that means no one will ever know what you did, and you'll have no chance of seeking glory or success from it, your contribution forever silent. To the world, you'll just be an ordinary fox, like any other."

"...Are you and that vixen cop biologically connected, or…?"

"We're vixens," she said, folding her paws. "Which means we know how to manage tod's like you."

"Like… me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "As in, you believe the only reason I do these things is to quote-unquote prove ourselves as fantastic, awesome, and dare I say it 'cool' to you and others. And without that motivation, we'd do nothing?"

…

Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.

"Excuse me, please," he said, turning and walking down his stairs.

Felicity just sat there and looked at her young son. "I'd tell him to do nothing, but then he'd take that literally to prove a point."

"Guuuhhhh uhhhh…"

The door opened up again and Mr Fox walked back in, leaning over Rowan. "Uppies?"

"Uh! Uh! Uh!" he burbled, paws up in the air.

"Your supportiveness is appreciated," Mr Fox said, picking him up and spinning him through the air, before running off making airplane noises, all to the squeals of laughter from the baby kit.

Felicity watched them go, before leaning over and picking up a book, licking her pad before using a claw to open it up to a particular page.

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Reading down, she turned it over.

…

"Traitor."

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Meanwhile, downstairs, Mr Fox walked into his office and sat down on his chair, Rowan on lap. "Kylie, status report on the 'quote-unquote' intel."

The opossum, filing through a heap of scrappy papers, looked up to him. "I've resolved the jamming issue we previously had. That's ten sheets largely recovered."

"Excellent. Anything to note?"

"Strawberry jam, likely thrown on its use by date, was perfectly edible."

"Good, so we've rectified someones waste of food," Mr Fox counted off. "Anything else?"

"No…" Kylie said, scanning through more papers. "I don't think our source was that good."

"Hmmmm," the fox mused. "The wolf mentioned squirrels. Try looking for squirrels."

Kylie threw down the papers and stared back up. "You're going to cuss with squirrels!?"

The red fox pulled back. "One, not in front of the baby. Two, what's this about squirrels?"

"You don't want to know."

"On the contrary…"

"I'm not going to tell you anyway," he said, returning back to the papers.

…

"You know, that's what I like about you Kylie. You're direct, you're straight to the point, you speak your mind clearly and in a way that doesn't seem overtly limiting for limitations sake. Say, Kylie?"

"Yes?"

"Does that make you proud?"

"Huh?" the opossum asked, looking up. "What do you mean, does it make you proud…"

"The fact that I complimented you straight to the point but not overtly limiting for limitations sake response. That makes you feel… confident, proud, sure of yourself…"

"I presume…" he pondered.

"So that's a yes?"

"Increasingly no, but yes."

"As in you guess so?"

"I guess."

A worried look came across Mr Fox's muzzle. "Kylie, I think I might need to pull out the couch for you again. You're sounding increasingly confused, worried, and befuddled."

"I'm just a bit bemused," he said, scratching the side of his head.

"Ah, that's okay then," Mr Fox said, pausing to think. "So, apart from feeling proud, confident, sure of yourself, is there any other reason you gave such blunt and honest and quite frankly respectable responses?"

"They felt right. As in, the right responses."

"Hmmmm," Mr Fox mused. "Which supports my take on this, that all my actions are the right ones, but that still leaves me at odds with certain members of the vixier sex."

"But I don't really think I need validation from others anyway," Kylie continued. "Sometimes, I find that validation from myself is the most important thing."

Mr Fox nodded, before his eyes widened. Paws out, baby pulled up, baby moved to the side, baby put down gently, he suddenly jumped up. "Kylie you genius, you've cracked it!"

"I have?" he asked, eyes going wide. "That's very nice. I feel quite happy."

"As you should be," Mr Fox continued, "I'm proud of you, you little introspective genius." Noting the giant smile on his sidekick's face, the vulpine walked over into the centre of the room arms out. "Throughout the mid to late evening of today, I have been stuck with a quandary. I have a burning desire to assist in this situation using my own skills, only for a certain set of vixens to accuse me of doing it for entirely 'quote-unquote' glory seeking reasons. Now, I can easily prove that I do not need said glory, even though it is a really, really, really nice thing and I don't see why anyone would object. The issue is that by trying to not seek glory and thus succeeding at that, you are arguably seeking glory for not seeking glory. In short, they have set it up so you can never win. And in the face of said unfairness, I just want to win even more to prove my point. But how? You, Kylie, provided the answer!"

"Happy to help. What is it?"

"That the only mammal I have to prove anything to is myself," he said. "I can fight and tackle the wolves without seeking external glory, because the truth is… the wolves are inside of me!"

Kylie blinked. "That sounds geometrically improbable."

"The wolves are metaphors, Kylie. Don't you see, the wolves are metaphors! Apart from the literal ones, but being metaphors I can tackle them and I can beat them!" He sat back and smiled. "And I can prove to those out there that this has nothing to do with glory or validation from others, because in the end, the only mammal I need glory or validation from is myself!"

Kylie nodded. "I also found an unopened tin of squab."

"Holy cuss, really? Who the cuss just throws away an unopened tin of cussing squab!?"

.

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"Not hungry son?"

Kris looked up at his father, then down at his chopped up and heavily reorganised plate full of food. Fork out and diving in, he began eating mouthful after mouthful, putting it down.

His father sighed. "I have no problem if you're not hungry. Only if something is wrong…"

Kris dropped his fork and sighed. "Something is wrong," he said, glancing away. "And I don't know what it is, just like before."

His father ran his fingers along the table. "Well, this time I think it's different, and I think you know too. I… don't know what more to say really." Slowly, Kris looked up. "We've told you enough times that nobody blames you, you were tossed into something you had no experience in, and the chances of you doing everything right were tiny to begin with. The dice were loaded against you, and nobody in their right mind cares if you rolled a pair of ones. Including those most hurt. She told you that herself." He walked forward and hugged him tight, sniffing. "I don't know what more to say, really."

"Neither do I," he mumbled, holding back. "I just want to be okay again. I thought I was going to be starting to but… I'm just hurting mammals. Here, there, everywhere. I try my best, they just get hurt, and if it wasn't for me that wouldn't happen. Logically if all my interactions do is hurt mammals, then the only thing I can and should do is stop interacting with them."

"Kris…" his father began.

"If mammals are getting hurt because of me, then surely I have to be responsible for that. Surely…"

"So you plan to just withdraw?" his father asked, pulling back.

His son looked at him for a second or two, before sliding back on his chair and making for his room.

"Kris?"

"Well I can't think of any better option," his son hissed, glaring back. "Can you?"

Dr Silverfox stood there, silent, before leaning down and grabbing a piece of paper. "Son…"

Kris turned away.

"Son, look at this," his father said, pushing the sheet of paper into his paws. The younger fox bucked his head to the side only to pause as he glanced it. Scribbled lines and off colour colouring, but it was a picture of him, by a certain coywolf. "He got hurt, because of you, but because of you he was spared so, so, so much hurt in the future. Can't you see that?"

Kris looked at it, the paper trembling in his paws, before he huffed, staring down. "In that case I've got to learn to stop hurting people and…"

A grip to his paw spun him around, his father's paws on his shoulders. "Or maybe you shouldn't be so harsh on yourself. Maybe you shouldn't beat yourself up, or hate yourself for not being perfect."

His muzzle twitched. "I thought you wanted me to be perfect. You told me to…"

"Try," he said. "Try to be perfect. Try to excel in everything. Because ultimately, perfection is unattainable. You should always focus on getting as close to it as you can, but if you start hating yourself for the gap left then, son, you'll just be falling further and further away." He gripped him tight. "You should hang out more with your cousin, he's got this more figured out than you have."

He let go. Kris stood there, silent.

"Which cousin?"

"You know what," his father shrugged. "Both! They both have, in different ways. So hang out with them and learn."

Kris remained unconvinced. "I'm not sure I like that idea."

"Well, if you don't, tough," his father said. "There were plenty of ideas Ash didn't like either, but he got past them and so will you. If you accept them. If you tackle them. Not if you run away, guilt yourself over everything, or keep acting like you're above him while proving you're not."

He blinked. "I thought it was pretty obvious I'm the more mature…"

"It's very obvious you're the more prideful fox right now," his father cut in. "Have you ever thought that that's one area where you're not perfect? Thinking your cousin can only get places with your help, thus you're always above asking it from him?"

"But…"

"No buts, answer the question. Because if you're trying to be perfect, there's one real area for improvement."

"I was sent to prison, attacked, saw friends attacked in my name. I never went as far as throwing myself off a bridge or hurling insults, which Ash did out of mere jealousy. I presumed you'd have spotted the difference."

William shook his head. "I can see it. But maybe you should see yourself too."

"I know what I am and what's wrong with me."

"Weren't you just saying you didn't," his father pressed, raising an eyebrow. "And that doesn't change the fact that you might learn something from Ash, if you're open to it. What do you have to lose? Because unless it's this pride that's holding you back, I don't see it."

Kris looked at him for a second, before shaking his head. "You wouldn't get it."

"Fine," his father shrugged. "I won't. Tomorrow you'll be with your cousin doing martial arts…"

"-But…"

"You'll get hurt," he cut in. "And you'll hurt others as it's martial arts, but you'll be controlling that hurt and learning that at the end of the day it's okay. It's natural. And I hope… I hope…" he wiped a tear from his eye. "That you'll be happy and excited to go back to the next session, just like you always were. And you'll have fun with your cousin and maybe learn some stuff from him too. Because I want you back to how you were too Kris. I want you safe and happy, and never think I don't love you."

"I won't," Kris sniffed, before leaning in, hugging him tight.

.

.

Carmelita huffed as she returned to her room, gear off she sat down, laptop in front of her, paws furiously typing up her confidential report back home. Ironically enough, today had been exceedingly productive. She had the answers she wanted, more than that she had arguably gained some critical intel.

Yet she just felt defeated.

Things were moving fast, too fast, around them, with who knew how many enemies to fight off. And just her, by herself, holding them back.

'And your two trusty companions too,' she told herself, or rather imagined someone else telling her as if he were here. 'Believe me, two trusty companions can back you up and get you real far, even with the most dedicated opponents on your tail.'

She sighed and carried on typing, sending off the highly encrypted email to Director Barkley. And now, local issues. Using her new ZPD VPN login, she scanned for any one-eyed lupine miscreants known in the system, before moving onto the history of a certain ursine.

'You can trust them, you know.'

It's not that she didn't trust them, she told herself. She was doing them a favour.

'You'll be doing them more of a favour by trusting them.'

"Like you trusted me?" she hissed.

…

The empty room answered back.

Looking down, knitting her fingers together, thinking. Would she have trusted him if he'd revealed that he fully knew who he once was. That he'd known all along. That his amnesia had been genuine for little more than a day?

Would she have trusted him if he'd revealed what secrets Bentley and Penelope had been working on. How someone else had beaten them to it. How the pages of history were being changed. That they needed to go back and stop it.

'I mean, you could just skip out the whole time travel thing you know?' Sly 'said.' 'After all, I'd have preferred having that option not being forced onto me too…'

Carmelita shook her head. Curse Penelope for betraying them like that. Curse the little mouse, that nanosized Neyla, for the misery she'd caused. Thinking about it, her betrayal made even less sense, only hurting the person she claimed to be trying to 'help' beyond imagination. If someone had written that down in a story, she'd have torn it out and laughed, no-one that smart could have been that stupid, reckless and out of character.

Mental illness felt like the only explanation..

'Or arrogance,' she imagined Sly saying, voice firm and hard in his serious 'this is the reason you suck' mode. 'We both know how many proud dumb animals there are who think that they're brilliant, and need to prove that. And what do they do? What all sad people do. They try and tear down or conquer someone else who achieved more than them, or who they just think did. Mouse, tiger, skunk, monster and now rat. It's always the same old pathetic story.''

Carmelita shook her head in mutual distaste.

'Not too dissimilar to a certain outnumbered and despairing vixen who quite harshly shut down someone who wanted to help, and seems to have some level of useful skill.'

Muzzle twinging, she growled out. "A certain someone with a newborn kit, a teenage son, a teenage nephew who's already been hurt horribly. Family who need him, and if these bad guys, who he has no clue about how dangerous they are, come for him, he won't be the only one. Conner Cooper was a thief, he was 'guilty', but what did Maya Cooper do to the Fiendish Five? What did she do to anyone? What did she do to deserve being murdered with your father before your very own eight-year-old eyes, Sly?"

Silence.

No answer.

Were he actually here, she'd have felt horrible right now. Even under his 'cover' he still had nightmares. Or a coworker would ask about his parents and he'd go quiet, mentioning something about a 'car crash'.

What would have happened if Maya Cooper had been spared?

Would she have led Sly away from thieving, given him an ordinary, happy life? Or at least directed him so he could carry on that damn 'family legacy' of his in a way that didn't break the law.

She'd traced down various branches of the wider Cooper line throughout the years, most with different surnames… Pretty much every raccoon could trace ancestry back to the main line at some point, given just how far back it went and how widely traveled it was. But there were many still named Cooper too. A few in England, none in Ireland though the line from there had survived in Sydneigh of all places. -Something that made far more sense when some old records revealed a distinct lack of thieving acumen and a prompt ticket one way to Bilby Bay.

There were even a few Coopers in Pawaii -Japanese immigrants descended from Riochi Cooper (given their rarity, virtually every Japanese raccoon could trace their way back to him).

The only Cooper bringing up anything close to their 'thieving legacy' was a tackle shop owner in Wiscowsin, who's great, great, grandfather had been Tennessee 'the Kid' Cooper's brother. He even had his own little memorabilia stand about the great outlaw. His daughter deemed it 'total cringe' while his son ran around with toy six-shooters and a ten gallon hat.

Happy raccoons leading happy normal lives.

Then again, it had been the main line, their history, book and records, that made them 'true' Coopers, greatest thieves of all.

All royalty in Europe were lions, but not all lions in Europe were royalty. And Tsar Nicholas' wife was gunned down by Lemming's men alongside her husband and children.

Carmelita sighed, looking up into the air. Hypotheticals like that about Sly were about as useful as they were about Anastasia.

And Penelope for that matter.

But, whatever insane reason that mouse had to give the secrets of her and Bentley's time travel project to Cyril Le-Paradox, knowing he'd use it to try and ruin the Cooper's thieving dynasty and wipe him, mere collateral, from existence, what was done was done. That skunk went back in time and messed with it, ripping Sly's family from history out of spite, and calling him back into action.

Behind her back.

So, again, had she been told about it all, would she have helped him? Forgiven him? Trusted him?

She closed her eyes and her mind fell back. Rattles and howls of wind filled the air, the ground shook and fell apart, revealing the sky and city below. The pull of Le Paradox's rift tried to haul them in, send them anywhen. The skunk had fled.. Sly told them to go. He and only he could finish this, taking out Paradox and escaping with his parasail. Looking into his eyes she'd tried to work out what to say.

His hazel eyes looked back from their black mask and he said: "I know. Me too."

That was the last time she ever saw him.

Opening up her eyes, she pulled out a tattered old picture, the one memento her long search had deigned to give her. A romantic stroll on the Champ De Mars, Eiffel tower in the background, rose in her paws and shocked look on her muzzle as he, as ever dressed in blue and yellow, planted a kiss on her cheek.

A mammal their size could survive a fall from any height, if they knew what to do. No different to a cat, they reached terminal velocity and landing on all fours would let their limbs absorb it, bones broken and at great risk of course. Cyril had been found almost drowned in the Seine, only a quick check up before it was the cells for him.

But on his back had been the straps for Sly's parasail, torn off by a passing jetliner.

So what had happened, where was Sly?

He didn't know..

Nothing else was found, so he hadn't jumped, rolling the dice. No body was a solace, in a way. They assumed he'd fallen into the rift, ending up anywhen. They assumed that soon enough, some new marker in the history books would signal where and when he'd arrived.

Eight years had passed.

He was gone.

'I'm still here you know,' she imagined him saying.

It felt hollow.

If she couldn't find him, she'd instead make sure his legacy would be kept. No more suffering from what he'd fought against, no more innocents caught in the tangled webs.

She could trust Nick and Judy.

She liked them, enough to never want them to see the dangers and feel the pain that she had.

To find Rattigan, to be by her side, to find that bear and to do the right thing.

To make sure that wolf and that other vixen, that impetulant arrogant risk taking mini-Neyla, ended this day with empty paws and nothing to show.

She would carry the burden.

She would take the shock pistol shot.

And make sure that no-one else ever had to taste it.