It's not when my voice is raised that you should worry. It's when I have nothing more to say.

The Panda King's bedroom was deceptively modest compared to the rest of his fortress. There was no glamor or declarations of wealth; the furniture was simple and functional, the walls were bare, and the only real indication that this room belonged to him was the bundle of fireworks propped up against a corner. Fireworks were forbidden inside the stronghold for everyone except the crime lord, and these were ones that he always carried for personal protection.

Sly didn't give a damn about them. What he was scouting for, as he slipped inside and began tearing the room apart, was much more flammable.

The dresser yielded nothing after scattering its contents, so he turned to the futon – ripping sheets away, flipping the mattress, checking the lining for secret pockets. When that proved fruitless as well, the raccoon began banging his cane against the floor and walls with growing frustration.

There – a hollow sound in the seam between two wood panels in the wall closest to the bed. Sly pressed the cane more firmly into the hidden pocket to find the very center, then pulled back to swing at it with all his might. It cracked apart easily, leaving a large hole for him to stick his hand into until his fingers closed around a small metal box.

Its lock came undone with just a few turns of his lockpick. He opened it to the sight of the Panda King's portion of the Thievius Raccoonus, and when he gently pulled them out, there was a separate paper underneath that did not belong to the rest despite looking just as old. The raccoon felt relief flood his body as he recognized the symbols matching those of the safe he couldn't crack.

This was the last thing he needed. He could go back, get those last few pages from Clockwerk, and then the game would finally be over.

He'd be free.

The sound of heavy, familiar approaching footsteps made him hold his breath. He pressed himself up against a wall and disappeared from sight just in time for the Panda King to slide open the door. The panda froze at the sight of his room turned upside down, then hurried inside to gape at the hole in the wall that blatantly told him what had been robbed. Sly was still holding the box and its precious contents; his grip tightened possessively when King's gaze passed unknowingly over his imperceptible form.

"No…" The crime lord muttered in horror. "No, no!"

He turned and rushed from the room, leaving the raccoon alone with his prize. Sly waited until he was certain that the other wouldn't return before exhaling to drop the invisibility and creeping towards the open door. He peered out cautiously, still hearing King's heavy footfalls heading in the direction that he himself was planning to go.

Well, there was little point in stealth now. It was obvious what Sly had taken, and it was obvious that the panda expected to intercept him there. If this was going to be a confrontation, then he'd face it as the final hurdle to this entire ordeal that it was.

He closed the box and stashed it in his backpack, retracing his steps to the top of the statue at a much slower pace. His heart was pounding in his chest and his hands were sweating under his gloves, but his mind was crystal clear with what he had to do. Any shred of fear was replaced by adrenaline and grim determination.

As expected, he was not alone when he reached the observatory. The Panda King stood in the center of the room, blocking the safe from sight of the only entrance. Sly's lip curled as he stepped out from the shadows and into the light, making his presence undeniably known.

"Move," he growled, hefting his cane to add weight to the command.

King did not move. He was stiff and rigid, staring the raccoon down with a face pinched in pity. It riled Sly up even more.

"Move, King, or I'll make you."

"You are welcome to try," the panda said solemnly. His hands came up in a pacifying gesture. "But I will not go easy on you, Sly Cooper. I have warned you that this path was not a good one to take."

"And I told you that you don't know what you're talking about!" Sly yelled. "What gives you the right to act like you care now? You never cared about me. You never had a conscience about what happened to me, no matter how much you pretended you did."

"You are welcome to believe that, Cooper. I know there are no excuses to my actions – but please, if there is a single thing in which I can convince you, let it be that opening this safe will not save you. It will only doom you."

The man was trying to placate him. His voice was soft and stressed, and he was looking at the raccoon like he was having a tantrum; like he was still the tiny terrified child constantly trying to escape while King was right there to stop it every step of the way.

Sly felt his lips curl back into an ugly snarl. Two could play at this game.

"You think you're so high-and-mighty," he said, voice low. "You think you're so much better than them because you never laid a hand on me, but you're not. You hurt me in ways that scarred just as deep as what he left on me. You're not a hero, you're not an innocent bystander – you're not even a good villain, because at least they never deluded themselves into thinking what they were doing wasn't evil. You're just a frustrated fireworks forger turned homicidal pyromaniac who's convinced himself he still has the moral high ground so he doesn't have to face reality!"

King's expression contorted in a flash of anger. Whatever nerve the raccoon had struck, it had struck hard; flames began to spark against his palms and up his arms. He shifted, placing one foot behind him to form a defensive position as his hands began to burn. Sly tensed with his cane at the ready.

"Since you are so intent on rushing blindly to your death, I see I can no longer convince you. To honor your life, your struggles, and your tenacity, I will give you a proper, glorious end with the beauty of my firework technique – Flame Fu!"

He launched the first fireball.

Sly was already running.

She was crying. When had she started crying?

Carmelita touched her hand to her cheek and was startled to feel it come away wet. She blinked until she was certain it would stop, then looked at Jing King, who had no such qualms about hiding her emotions. Tears flowed freely down the poor girl's face as she finished recounting everything her father had told her about Sly Cooper.

The inspector still remembered seeing the scars. There was no way she could ever forget them – those three jagged marks across Sly's body that he had insisted was nothing more than a machinery mishap. His careful sidestep of that truth had matched every other lie by omission he had fed her for all their time together, but now she had all the missing pieces Jing had placed before her. How they lined up perfectly to form a picture she had been almost willfully blind to.

Different emotions warred within her; horror at what he'd gone through, rekindled anger at the Fiendish Five for the compounded list of atrocities they had committed to no one's knowledge but their own, her own sense of justice struggling to drown out everything else to shout at her that he was still a criminal who had to answer for the things he'd done.

And beneath all of that, quiet and concerned and persistent – confusion. Hurt. They had worked together. He had trusted her; had told her how difficult that was for him to do, and now she knew exactly why. He had even told her, in the midst of their terrible falling out, that he'd believed she was strong enough to take down the Five for good.

So why hadn't he told her any of this? Had he still thought so lowly of cops – of her – that it didn't cross his mind? If she had succeeded in arresting everyone in the group before their blowout had happened, would he have realized he was safe enough to share those secrets without risk of them coming after him, or would he have kept up his lies as long as he could regardless?

She didn't know. And now, after seeing the way he had looked at her the last time they met, she doubted she'd ever get the chance to learn.

"…Inspector Fox?"

Jing King's voice was soft and uncertain. She wrung her hands nervously, watching the fox and waiting for a proper response to all the secrets she had just shared.

"I – give me a minute," Carmelita said, eternally grateful she didn't sound as shaken up as she felt. "It's just a lot to process. Did you – can I ask a few more questions?"

The panda nodded, setting her hands down in her lap as she patiently waited for the follow-up. She looked considerably calmer than she'd been when she'd first started talking. Inspector Fox was envious.

"Did you ever see him again after that? After – after they took him away, I mean. Not the…you know."

"I did not see him while he was working for them, no," she replied somberly. "If he was ever brought to my father's territory here in Kunlun during those six years, I was not aware of it. After he escaped, he found his way to my aunt's house where I was living at the time, and stayed with me for a few days to search for pages of the Thievius Raccoonus…and to recover."

She gave her a long, slow once-over as she said it, and Carmelita wondered what she was being judged for. Had Sly told her about their fight, or did the girl simply blame her for his condition in the aftermath? She chose her next words carefully, mindful of the layer of mistrust that still persisted between them.

"You mentioned earlier that he wasn't interested in getting the book back when he was first trying to escape. What changed?"

Jing pursed her lips. "I am uncertain. My father does not know, either, but he suspects it has something to do with Clockwerk's original prediction that Sly would go after it, and the conversation he had with him that my father was not privy to. Whatever was said between them changed Sly's priorities."

The fox thought back to the moment Sly had declared that he would come with her after the rest of the Five. He had told her that he was doing so because he wouldn't feel safe until they were put away, but she still remembered the look on his face, and even back then had known that there was something else to it. He had been almost manic in his reaction, as though his entire life hinged on convincing her to let him join. After learning he had been part of their team, she'd thought the root of that obsession was revenge – and perhaps some of it still was, knowing the full story now.

But there was something she was missing, something they all were, and as theory after theory crossed her mind as to what, she couldn't help but wonder, once again, why Sly would willingly throw himself back into the line of fire for the sake of a single book.

"Jing…do you know where your father is now?" She asked as a different thought suddenly occurred to her. "Because I was following Sly when I made it into this statue, and I haven't seen him since."

The girl looked up at her sharply. "He has been alternating his time between his room and the security station. Do you think they will encounter each other?"

"If the Panda King still has what Sly is looking for, then it's very likely. In fact, it might have already happened."

That statement seemed to terrify Jing. She stumbled to her feet as if to run off, but stopped immediately as she caught eyes with the inspector again.

"…You have yet to tell me what you plan to do," she said, looking as though she wanted nothing more than to bolt from the room to find her family. The fact that she stayed put was a testament to her will, and Carmelita couldn't help but respect it. "You said you want to help him; to right every wrong and ensure justice is done, but what does that mean? What will you do if we find my father? If we find Sly?"

"I…"

Honestly? She didn't entirely know.

"I don't know," she admitted, hoping the truth was enough for now. "This is a more complicated situation than I realized, and Sly might not – well, he isn't exactly trusting me anymore. But I'm hoping that he'll at least be willing to talk. If we find him alone, I'm not going to threaten him. I just want to talk and – and figure things out from there."

Jing studied her. "And…if we find my father instead?"

For that, there were no reservations. "I'm going to arrest him. I know you care about him, and it sounds like he has a lot of regrets, but he's still done terrible things, Jing. Just today, even, he buried an entire town under snow. I can't let him walk away from that."

The girl took a deep breath and bowed her head with her eyes closed. When she seemed to come to terms with whatever future was in store for herself and her father, she opened her eyes, squared her shoulders, and held her hand out to Inspector Fox.

"I will help you find them," she promised as the older woman took the offered hand. "I've been complicit in all of this for far too long, even though I was not aware of it. I refuse to be a pawn for evil any longer."

Carmelita nodded, feeling a surge of her old resolve return for the first time since Wales. One way or another, it was time to make things right.

Flames singed the fur along Sly's cheek as he ducked a fist covered in fire by a hair's breadth. He took advantage of the brief window in the Panda King's defenses to slam his cane into his knee, watching with vicious satisfaction as it buckled under the blow. Then he was forced to dance out of range again when King's other burning hand almost caught him around the waist in retaliation.

They were both breathing hard, slick with sweat from the heat and the fighting. Sly was fast but inexperienced in combat; his left arm throbbed from where the panda had grabbed it and nearly snapped it in two before he'd slipped out of the deadly hold, and shallow burns peppered his hoodie and his body. King, meanwhile, was struggling from the toll of old age; his hulking frame kept his endurance strong against a dozen harsh impacts by the metal cane, but it could only last so long as his energy waned more and more as the minutes ticked on.

Sly hurried to close the distance before the panda could gear up to start throwing fireballs and rockets and god knew what else, slipping in out of reach like a persistent butterfly and waling on his enemy at every opening he could find. The fight had led to them circling the room so that the safe was at the raccoon's backside, but he dared not turn around to sprint for it until the threat was down for the count. King had not been bluffing about killing him, and he threw everything he had at him.

In some sick, twisted part of Sly's mind, it almost felt good to be taken seriously for once in his life.

Finally, the fight hit its apex. He feinted right as though he was going to take aim for King's knee again. The crime lord lunged low for him – and Sly jumped instead. He vaulted onto his giant outstretched arm, for a single moment, and sprang into the air again with the added height to bring his cane down directly over his head.

The Panda King collapsed with an audible thud.

Sly landed light as a feather in front of him despite the heave of his lungs and the burns across his body. He looked the panda over to make sure his fall wasn't faked, then looked over at the safe still waiting for him. With one last venomous kick to the Five member's side, he walked towards his prize while pulling the stolen box from his backpack.

It was child's play to translate the code from paper to keypad; perhaps, ironically, the easiest thing to overcome among every trial he'd faced in the months it had taken to get here. With his heart practically beating out of his chest, feeling the rising hope that this game was finally over, the raccoon entered the final symbol and opened the safe door.

It was empty.

Sly stilled. No, that couldn't be right. He put his hands inside, searching for an illusion or a hex that must have made the final pages invisible. When that yielded nothing, he felt about the inner walls for hidden compartments. Something cold and acidic began creeping its way up his throat and into his brain as the seconds ticked by and he couldn't find the secret to the safe.

He closed the door. Opened it to the same sight. Closed it again and relocked it, then re-entered the code and swung the door open a third time.

Nothing. There was nothing there.

Static pressed into his nerves. His fingers were numb. Sly felt his legs give out beneath him and let them, collapsing to his knees in front of the farce of a safe as his cane slipped from his grip. It couldn't be true. There had to be something there, or else he'd come all this way for nothing. He'd succeeded again and again, facing death and worse over and over to reach this ending, this promise – and it had led only to failure. He had failed.

No. No.

No.

A groan behind him redirected all his panic into rage in an instant. Sly picked up his cane and turned towards the Panda King, who was struggling to get to his feet with one hand against his head.

"Where are they." It was a demand, not a question.

King looked up blearily, confused until his clouded eyes fell on Clockwerk's open, empty safe and the dangerously motionless raccoon beside it. He shook his head, fighting another groan as he did so.

"Don't give me that shit!" Sly stalked forward to jam the wooden end of his cane hard into the other's shoulder. The firework forger lost his balance and what little ground he had gained, falling to his hands and knees almost instantly. "You've had this thing sitting here all these years, holding onto it for him. Going on and on about my goals having no good ending. There's no fucking way you don't know where they really are!"

He shook his head again in silence.

"Tell me where the last pages are, King!"

"I do not know," the panda finally said in the face of his shout, looking just as lost as him. Sly didn't buy a word of it. "I was tasked with keeping the safe protected and told never to open it. I know just as much as you."

The raccoon snarled and hooked the cane around the man's neck. He yanked it forward, forcing King to remain kneeling as a shocked gaze met a blazing one. They were pressed nearly snout to snout.

"No more lies," he growled. "No more mind games. No more turning a blind eye to what's around you for your peace of mind. Tell me where Clockwerk hid his portion of the Thievius Raccoonus in your stronghold, or I'll show you exactly how those talons felt across your own body."

Sly stared at the Panda King. The Panda King stared at Sly. Nothing was said because nothing needed to be said as it hit him all at once. King wasn't lying. He didn't know any more than the raccoon did, but one truth had made itself clear between them.

The last of the book was not here. It had never been.

The weight of that comprehension nearly staggered Sly. He stared down at King's remorseful form, still caught precariously by the weapon around his throat, and struggled to think through the sudden haze of a mocking, metallic voice in his head.

Oh, how stupid he was. How very, very stupid.

A delirious, frantic laugh bubbled its way out of his mouth. It was a single sound, one loud horrific realization that echoed around the room, as Sly Cooper looked back at the game he had played for over half his life and finally understood that he had never been another player to begin with. He had been its prize, that coveted thing that the Five had played for and used and fought over until it had finally slipped out of their greedy hands and into patient, waiting claws.

And those claws would not make the mistake of letting him live a second time.

He didn't yell. He didn't cry. He didn't even get angry again. A heavy sort of finality settled over him in the wake of this revelation, scrubbing away all emotion and leaving only emptiness. Sly stared down at the Panda King, who stared back with wide eyes that – for the first time since he had ever met him – suddenly recognized the sight of someone well and truly having nothing left to lose.

They found the crime lord's room torn completely apart.

Jing stood in the doorway, shocked, while Carmelita searched the area just long enough to figure out what the path of destruction had been. Neither of them had to guess as to who was behind it.

"He must have found the rest of the book," the inspector said grimly as she studied the empty hole in the wall. "He's probably long-gone by now."

"I hope so," the girl replied, stepping aside to let her out of the room and into the hallway. "I hope he found everything he was looking for, and that he never has to return here again."

Carmelita frowned, hearing the melancholy in her voice and unsure of whether it was her place to comfort the panda. Before she could decide either way, there was a sudden, distant shout from somewhere above them.

"Tell me where the last pages are, King!"

The fury in Sly's voice startled her just as badly as the fact that she had heard it at all; never in her time knowing him had he ever been so loud. She whirled on Jing, who was staring up at the ceiling with her mouth agape.

"We need to find them now – where are the nearest stairs?"

The girl snapped out of her bewilderment and grabbed Carmelita by the wrist, hurrying towards the opposite end of the hall and around another corner until they found the way up. They both sprinted for all they were worth, making their way higher and higher until at last they came to the very top.

It was the room Inspector Fox had come in through with her jetpack when she'd followed Sly. That was the first thing she registered upon entering. The second thing was that of him standing over a kneeling Panda King, both looking banged up and exhausted.

The third thing was the Cooper cane wrapped around King's neck.

Carmelita froze. Jing, behind her, did as well. Sly didn't even seem to realize they had arrived; all his attention was on the crime lord at his mercy.

"I could kill you like this." His voice was soft as a fallen snowflake and just as chilled. It sent a shiver down the fox's spine. "I should kill you. After everything you've done, you don't deserve mercy."

The Panda King remained silent, head bowed and eyes closed. He appeared to have accepted his fate.

But Carmelita did not.

"Sly."

Later, she would be surprised by how quiet her call to him had been – how it had sounded more like she was pleading with someone standing on the edge of a bridge instead of being about to kill a man. But right now, all she could focus on was the raccoon standing perfectly still in front of her.

"Sly, don't do it."

His head swiveled her direction first. His eyes followed at a delay as though detached from the rest of him.

"Oh. Carmelita. Hey."

The way he looked at her was like nothing she had ever seen on anyone. Even in Wales, it had still been him under the walls he had put up. Right now, there was no sign at all of the ringtail she'd grown to care about.

There was nothing there at all.

"Funny seeing you here," he continued without any inflection, as if they were simply conversing about the weather while he was two seconds away from snapping King's neck. "You missed all the action, I'm afraid. Didn't make it in time to kick ass and make arrests like you're so good at."

His blank gaze bore holes into her. She could see his fingers tighten almost imperceptibly around the handle of his cane.

"Or maybe it's not too late for that. I'm still here, after all. You could always go after me again." His voice remained toneless, but his body began to shake. "You'll probably catch me this time if you do. I'd call it a draw, since I won the last round, but I think you'll win regardless in the end. What do you think?"

"Sly," Carmelita repeated, slow and cautious. "Whatever you're thinking right now, it's not worth it. Please don't do it."

The raccoon tilted his head at her words, bizarrely similar to the way a bird would. "You don't know what I'm thinking."

There was no accusation there like she expected. Just a fact, stated simple and blunt.

"You're right. I don't know." Her hands came up in surrender. His eyes tracked the movement with a lazy, deceptive precision. "I've been learning that more and more tonight – I don't know anything about you. I don't know how hard it must have been for you. I don't know what you've had to do to survive. I've made a lot of assumptions about you all this time, and I have no excuse for the way I've treated you."

Slowly, broadcasting every move she made, the inspector reached for the belt around her waist. Sly didn't blink a single time as she removed it – and by extension, the holster containing her shock pistol – and dropped it to the ground. She picked the gun up by the toe of her foot and kicked it away, keeping her gaze on him as it skittered out of both of their ranges.

His expression did not change. The hold on his cane squeezed even tighter.

"I met your sister tonight, and she told me a little bit." Carmelita leaned back on her heels to acknowledge the panda standing silent behind her, and she saw the moment Sly realized she was there too. For the very first time, his face flickered out of its emptiness, in and out in a blink, and she almost missed it. "She set me straight on all the things I've been wrong about."

Next came the jetpack. It was harder to take off as smoothly as her pistol had been, but she tried her best. One strap off of one shoulder, the other off of the other, and she let it fall the same way. It clacked harshly against the hard ground, but neither of them flinched.

"What have you been wrong about?" He asked without any real weight to the question. "I'm a criminal. I'm a Cooper. I'm not worth anything except for how much I can get into trouble. That sums it up pretty well, doesn't it?"

She swallowed. Searched the deepest parts of her training for every de-escalation tactic she had ever learned. Searched even deeper for the truths she had not allowed herself to face until now.

"You're worth everything to me, Sly. I wouldn't have even made it out of Mesa without you. I'd be dead countless times over without you. You believed in me when no one else would. I was a failure before we met. Everyone thought I was too impulsive, and a screw-up, and – and that I didn't deserve my title or even my badge. I wasn't just getting into trouble; I was getting everyone around me into trouble. That includes you. I made you believe you could trust me, and then I destroyed that trust out of stubborn ignorance."

Carmelita held her hands out again – not in placation, but in welcoming. Recognition. An offer of peace between two equals.

"I'm sorry, Sly. I'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't worth enough. You are. I –"

She hesitated, and then refused to do so any longer.

"I care about you, Ringtail. I have for a long time. And that's never going to change, because you know how bull-headed I get when I set my heart on something. So please, please don't do something that you'll regret. Don't do something that will make you hate yourself more than you already do. You deserve better than that."

It was silent for a very long time. She didn't know if her words had sunk in, if they had made a real impact, but it was all she could hope for as she continued to hold her hands out and waited for the reaction. Sly stared at her, studying her in that way that pierced to her very soul, and she held her head high to show that there was nothing left to hide. She had said her piece.

Whatever happened next, she would face it without any regrets.

When Sly finally pulled his gaze from her, it was to look instead at Jing. The fox didn't know what she was thinking, or even the expression on her face – she was still standing behind her – but nearly a full minute passed as they shared a conversation known only to them. Eventually, as if waking up from some far-off dream, he looked down at the Panda King still waiting for his verdict.

The raccoon startled like he'd been hit. He took his cane off of King's neck and backed away skittishly, eyes darting back and forth between both pandas and the inspector as though they might turn on him anyway despite his moment of mercy. Before anyone could say a single word, he turned tail and ran out the shattered window, where he disappeared from sight in the dark night.

Carmelita nearly collapsed where she was standing. The only reason she didn't was because she sensed Jing about to do the same, and instead turned to grab her arm to steady her. The girl gave her a grateful look before running straight for her father.

The inspector wanted to do the same, to go after Sly before he was gone again, but she couldn't. There were still people counting on her to do her job. She wasn't going to let them down again.

Her radio was clipped to her hip at one of the belt loops; the only piece of police equipment she hadn't dropped during her intense stand-off with the raccoon. She pulled it up to her mouth and somehow found her voice to be steady.

"Inspector Fox to Team Alpha. I've successfully infiltrated the fortress and have taken the Panda King into custody. What is your current position?"

It took a few seconds to gain a reply, but the officer who answered only sounded mildly distracted. "Team Alpha to Inspector Fox. We have just reached the base entrance and have overtaken King's men here. ETA to sweep the fortress for remaining hostiles: fifteen to thirty minutes. Where should we meet you?"

"I'll be waiting at the top right observatory."

"Copy that. Over and out."

As she attached the radio back onto her jeans, Carmelita looked over at the infamous crime lord and his gentle daughter. The former had yet to stand from his place on the floor; his expression was thoughtful as he absently rubbed at his neck. The latter kneeled beside him, running her hands over his body to catalogue his injuries.

"The rest of my team will be here soon, you know." It was not stated as a warning, as neither seemed willing to flee, but she still watched them both with more than a little tension.

"I know," Jing said, looking out at the open window. She sighed, quiet and watery, before giving the inspector a soft, sad smile. "We will wait for them and face whatever comes together. It is the most honorable thing we can do."

"It is the only thing I can do," the elder panda added. His voice was full of resignation and regret. "Nothing else will atone for the things I've done in this life. Perhaps that isn't even enough."

He finally met her eyes. She was startled by how cold they were towards her despite his heavy words. Despite everything she'd learned about him, he was still a ruthless, terrifying man even in defeat.

"Go," he told her. "We will not flee when your back is turned. Go, and find him. Do what I…what I could not."

For the first time in her life, Carmelita fully believed the words of a criminal. She gave a single, firm nod, turned on her heel, and rushed for the broken window.

He's probably long gone, she told herself as she reached the empty frame. He's probably halfway down the mountain without a trace, just like last –

He was sitting just outside.

Carmelita froze for half a second, almost afraid that the raccoon would disappear like a mirage if she made another move. His ear flicked backwards at the sound of her, but he didn't turn around. She took it as a tentative sign to approach.

Carefully, the inspector came over and sat down next to him. His cane was draped across his lap, as was a handful of old, tattered papers, and he stared at them without really seeing them.

"...Sly?"

"I don't know what to do anymore."

It was said so quietly that she almost didn't catch it. The fox wrapped her arms around her knees as she waited for him to elaborate.

"I thought I knew what I was doing," he continued after several moments of silence between them. "That first night we met, when I offered to help you find Muggshot…I didn't give a shit about you or your job. I just saw an opportunity to get what I needed, and a chance to screw over at least one of the monsters who made my life hell in the process."

Sly started turning the cane over and over in his hands. Carmelita didn't move a muscle to take it away or even stop him. She wasn't as surprised as she figured she should be to realize that she didn't fear him anymore.

Not like this.

"Then, when you started going after the rest of them, I joined you because it was an opportunity to steal my family's book back. It was what I was supposed to do. It was what was expected of me. I steal the whole book back and then I'd finally be able to escape for real."

He lifted those worn pages just enough for her to catch a glimpse of old drawings and even older handwriting.

"But getting it back didn't do that. All it did was tell me that I was an idiot for ever believing otherwise. Going after this thing meant either getting caught by them again, or ending up dead. I don't know why I ever thought my life would go any differently."

At the base of the fortress, they could both see other Interpol officers making their way up, visible by their flashlights even in the pitch black of the night. It would probably be ten minutes tops before they reached the observatory.

The raccoon wasn't making any move to leave. He stared at the incoming team down below with despondent eyes.

Carmelita shivered and rubbed her arms, but not from the cold. "But – but it doesn't have to be either of those options, Sly. You got out. You're free of them now."

"Let's not kid ourselves, Inspector," he said quietly. Bitterly. "I'm not free. You're going to arrest me, or your team will, and I'll just be in a brand-new kind of cage. Maybe an even worse one, once word gets out that I worked with the cops to save my own skin."

"We can – figure something out," she responded, struggling to think of some way, any way, to help him without compromising her job or her morals. "You could get representation, make a case for your – your unusual circumstances. If you testify against the Fiendish Five and explain everything, surely a judge will understand –"

He was shaking his head before she was even finished speaking. "You know that's not how it works. They're going to hear my last name and then it's all over. And even if that's not enough to doom me, it will only be a matter of time before I'm caught by the one person who will never let me go."

Before she could ask what he meant, Sly carefully folded the pages of his family treasure and tucked them in his backpack. Then he stood up, gaze on the distant horizon. She did the same if only to stay at his eye level.

"I'm done, Carmelita. I tried to get out, and I couldn't. I tried to get revenge, and I couldn't. I couldn't even put the Thievius Raccoonus back together all the way. I've failed, and it's over. So I'm going to choose that end on my terms, because it's the only choice I have left."

He turned to look at her. His expression was tight with pain and exhaustion, but there was the smallest, genuine smile on his face.

"For what it's worth, though, I did have fun with you. Traveling the world, having someone actually watching my back, taking down scumbags who deserved it. It was nice. And if you meant even half of the things you said back there…"

The raccoon held out his cane to her, wrists up as if waiting for her to cuff him.

"Then let me make it up to you for all the trouble I've caused. One last member of the Fiendish Five to put away."

Carmelita stared at him in shock.

"…Sly, I –"

A shadow fell over them.

Both their heads snapped up. Coming down from the sky like a speeding bullet was a set of giant wings that glinted in the moonlight. Talons sharp as death were aimed right for them – aimed right for him.

Sly was rooted to the spot, staring up at the incoming monster in pure transfixed terror. The horror in his eyes was matched only by hers as she realized that he was too petrified to try to run.

Petrified, and then resigned.

Instincts took over. Carmelita moved.

Her body collided full-force with his, sending him tumbling from the statue's eyes to its nose and into deep snow right before deadly claws swiped at the place he had just been standing – and closed around her instead. They squeezed tight enough to make her lose her breath and the world lurched around her as suddenly she was in the sky.

The last thing she saw before the lack of air consumed her and her vision went dark was Sly's stunned face, watching helplessly as she was carried away.

A/N:

;)