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Dendera had expected that Silas would put a stop to the small compliments, to the close proximity, but he hadn't even begun to expect how sharply the vaporeon had reacted to the words and his attitude. His lip hung, mouth a bit agape as he heard the other's question after the struggling had stopped. "I.." he couldn't find the words to speak, pulling his hands away on his own now and rubbing them just slightly over his arms, almost in a position to hug himself but it looked more like a nervous action. That question, to him it sounded like such a horrible accusation, he felt like he'd just been called a monster. He ground his teeth for a moment and then realized that he was feeling an emotion that startled him.

He was angry. Had he ever been angry at the vaporeon before? He couldn't remember ever being mad or even really upset with him. But right now, to his own surprise - that was what he felt. "I..No." he answered, his brow knitting together closely as he stared with the most confused look on his face at the vaporeon. And suddenly, he found that he couldn't look at him any longer, and so he walked around him and straight towards the bed that would be his own while they stayed here. He pulled himself up onto it, settling his arms over his knees and his chin upon his arms.

He tried to settle his emotions before he spoke again, because speaking when full of emotions wasn't rational, but of course he spoke before he was ready to, "I've been trying to be positive about the s**t that I'm dealing with," he spoke quietly, just staring at a wall, or a piece of furniture, or anything it didn't matter, as long as it wasn't Silas. "I wanted..to be positive, I didn't want to worry you or hurt you or upset you." in his head he realized that it was beginning to sound like ranting but he found that it was hard to stop himself, and he was saying much more about himself and his thoughts and actions than he normally did. "It makes me just a bit better to be around you, if that makes you a distraction, then I guess you are." he clenched his fists tightly as he could feel the adrenaline build up as it did when you begin to build up a temper.

And then finally he just told him honestly, everything that twisted and twirled around in his head, "I just held the body of the man that raised me, made me everything that I am now. And when I spoke to him, the only thing that I realized I wanted was his permission to stay with you. But he can't give that to me." as the tears welled up in his eyes, he turned and pulled himself from the bed, he wouldn't let the vaporeon see him like this, he'd said more than he had ever wanted to, and told Silas things that he didn't need to know, and shouldn't know. He walked quickly to the one place he could think of to escape to - the balcony, shutting the window door behind himself and keeping his face hidden beneath long black hair the whole way there.

When he reached the balcony, he rushed for the railing, gripping it within tight fists as he felt his body begin to shudder as he tried to push back the tears, gritting his teeth in the process, and simply staring out at the now dark waters of the Nile. And in his head replayed the things that he'd said, and he just wanted to have a reset button, and try that again, control himself and just sweetly answer his companion as he usually did. But he didn't have that option. Finally, he got the tears to dry in his eyes where they had threatened to fall and he just sighed, an attempt to let out all the stress that had built up in him.

Dendera tensed up almost immediately when he heard the glass door slid open, knowing already that it was Silas, come to bring the conversation that the umbreon had tried to escape from. He clenched his jaws tightly together, trying to force himself to just be silent because he wasn't ready to say anything else, and had wanted a moment to himself. He remained still and silent, hands clutching the railing to the balcony as he listened to Silas's seemingly reluctant apology and then the rest of what seemed to be bothering the vaporeon. At that point he began to feel so frustrated, and wished that he could have just said things in a way that would have made his companion understand him, but apparently he hadn't.

And as much as the umbreon was fighting it, the words came from him, the urge to correct the other just far too over-powering. "No. You persistently misunderstand me. It..it honestly makes me wonder if my English is really rubbish and I just think that I've gotten good at it." he glanced towards the vaporeon but then his red eyes fell back onto the waters of the river. "It wasn't a 'mask'." he said quietly and almost harshly, the word feeling so cold to him, "Being around you cheers me even if it's only a little or only for a little while. Why do you insist that it has to be fake?" he asked without so much as a glance towards Silas, but was speaking much softer now, not nearly as cold as moments ago, more like a desperate plea to be understood.

"I do..try to be stronger for you, but..I don't see that as fake either. Just when I think you trust me even a little.." he let out a short sigh as his hands gripped tighter on the railing, "You accuse me of lying to you." He released the railing from his hands now, raising them up as one would do in giving up on an argument. Then he turned his back to the Nile, letting his back rest upon the railing, his eyes falling to the ground as his mind assessed the rest of what Silas had said. "I know that I don't need his permission, I just..wanted it. You can't understand that and I don't expect you to."

He felt a very tight grip on his chest, this conversation not being one that he ever wanted to have. He was nervous and uncomfortable and he hated to be this way around Silas. "I've been doing everything for myself for years, everything..I know already that you don't want for me to go, I know. Do you honestly believe that I want to leave you?" he looked to the vaporeon now with his eyebrows drown and a frown on his lips, "I don't..I don't want to..I just..you don't get it." he said finally, knowing that there was no way in the world that he could explain to Silas the sense of duty and responsibility that he felt in the matter.

As he finished, his eyes trailed to the sky above, leaning back on the railing with his elbows. The umbreon was still going over everything that was said in his mind and it was all still so hard for him. "I'm not hiding things from you." he said finally after his own pause, "If you wanted to know something you could ask, but don't accuse me of lying to you again because of everyone that has known me in my life, you know me better than any of them." he spoke very seriously, looking at his companion once more now, "But I guess even you don't know me as well as I thought that you did." he finished.

Dendera bit down on his lip as Silas began to speak, honestly terrified that this would become a real fight and that they would spend the night angry with each other. He was certain that he'd not been angry with the vaporeon before this night and he'd learned one thing about the feeling, he really didn't like it. After the vaporeon's first statement, Dendera became a bit confused, more so than he had been afraid of the possibility of a fight. He knew that he often invaded Silas's personal space, and said things that made his cheeks light up, but he couldn't really know that the shorter male had never heard or felt them before. He remembered being told about changes with the vaporeon that he was told were a first but apparently he'd surprised Silas more often than he had thought before.

Before he could think about it anymore though he found a dagger in his hand, the blades edge pointed right at his companion's throat. He was startled by the action at first just becoming tense but as he listened to the vaporeon he began to understand why the dagger was now in his hand. When he realized it, he forced his fingers back against the hand that held him to the dagger - easily able to beat Silas out when it came to anything physical. And he let the dagger drop to the ground of the balcony. He hated to see that, to see the blade at the vaporeon's throat and he didn't want to see it again. But he understood what Silas was trying to show him, especially when he took in how shaken it seemed to make the boy.

"I guess you do.." he said quietly in response, very softly, with his eyes now downcast, "I'm sorry.." he brought his arms up around himself as he'd done before just barely rubbing at his arms, trying to settle himself and stop the shivers that had nothing to do with the cold night air. He took in everything that Silas was saying and at some point he'd begun to pace the balcony, but only briefly and quietly.

He let Silas finish, without saying another word, just listening to everything that he had to say, though there were points when he had something to say, he just waited and listened. He knew that it was simpler to speak with a level head when you actually listened to everything that the person had to say before jumping in. When the vaporeon had obviously finished, Dendera turned to face him, and just stared at him for a moment, obviously still going over everything in his head, not knowing where to begin. "I..it wouldn't hurt me..for you to just ask about me. I'm not used to talking about myself..that doesn't mean that I can't. If you want to know about me, I can learn to be used to it."

He was willing, to at least try to tell Silas whatever it was that he had curiosities about. Yes, it would be hard if he wanted to know about Amasis, but it was obviously bothering Silas now that he didn't really know much about the umbreon. After a moment of sifting through his thoughts, ready to speak about his life but not knowing where to start, his hand had found it's way to the belt that held two holster's. It was like his body was assisting him before his head really got there. "I.." he looked towards his hip for a moment before reaching back with both hands and pulling a gun from each holster, one now in each hand. He held them like one would a gun ready to fire for a moment, the familiar weight, the size, and feeling. And then he flipped them around in his palms, holding them out for the vaporeon. But before Silas really had a chance to take hold of them or object - the umbreon put one in each of his hands, pulling his hands away now and placing them back on his arms. His eyes firmly on the guns that were in the vaporeon's hands. "Ask me anything, and don't skip any questions just to spare my feelings. I'll be ok."

Dendera watched silently as Silas felt the weapons that he'd made that meant so very much to him. It reminded him of the night that they had met, when he'd told the vaporeon that he loved the guns more than any person - which was the reason he always kept them on his person but now they rested in the shorter male's hands and though he kept his eyes on them, he knew that they were safe. His gaze only stayed on them because he was now thinking back into his past and they were as much a part of it as any.

When Silas mentioned the cold, Dendera outstretched his arms, letting the cool rough wind of Egypt push at his back and arms for a moment and then gave a short almost awkward laugh, "It's not that bad, gets worse." he commented, but followed the other inside regardless, taking a seat on the bed near the weapons soon after the vaporeon had seated himself. "I don't have too many." he said quietly in response. He had a few but in his opinion it wasn't a lot. He stared at nothing in particular for a long moment as he sorted out memories in his head, not sure which scar to begin with. "Well..these," he pointed towards the scars that were over his left eye, two short lines, "Some guy, that I was in the military with, was messing around with some throwing daggers that I had made..I guess he thought it was interesting that I made weapons. He knew that my reflexes are pretty good and well.." he tried to think of the best way to word it, and continued when he'd decided, "I heard the equivalent of 'Catch!' and just barely got them before I lost an eye. Don't let that make you think that I'm any good at that sort of thing..it was really just luck, I'm still shocked that I caught them."

He wore a small smile, one that obviously showed that he was reminiscing on those days. "You probably expected something more interesting..but really most of them are just stupid." he gave a bit of a shrug. Silas's scars were terrible and difficult stories for him, but the story that Dendera had just told had no bad memories attached, aside from almost losing his eye. The biggest scar on him however, did have a bad story to it, but he felt that he could handle telling it. The dark skinned male stood up now to raise his shirt up over his head, revealing three more scars, two small ones on his chest and the grid like scar that covered his side. He ran a hand over the 'lines' of the grid on his side, the texture rough and skin strong from the heavy scarring.

He then grabbed hold of Silas's hand and placed it over the large scar before beginning to tell that story, "When I first began to serve in the military I was stupid and bold. I..I thought that I didn't care if I died. I was hateful and rebellious and I went against orders. I was captured by the enemy and they..I guess tortured me.." he cringed at the memory but told it none the less, ".. most of what they did only scarred for a couple of years and ended up healing completely, but not this one." as the tale came to a close his voice had become softer and when he finished, he sat down beside the vaporeon with his shirt in his hand, the large scar clearly visible.

Dendera was surprised that Silas hadn't snapped at him for taking his shirt off, but perhaps just this once he was okay with it, it was a more serious conversation and the scar was a part of that conversation. But of course, the umbreon noticed, that blush that was becoming all too frequent on the vaporeon's face. He gave a small smile, but didn't make any comment that he might have normally made, not wanting to make Silas change his mind about not putting up an argument. "Maybe.." he offered a bit of a shrug at the suggestion, he hadn't really thought about it. The scar no longer hurt him and in fact it wore it proudly as a reminder of a mistake he'd made and the fact that he wouldn't make that same mistake again.

Then, his companion asked the inevitable question that he already knew was bond to come in some form, well, he knew that Silas would ask about his caretaker - though he hadn't guessed just what he would ask. And though Dendera had mentally prepared himself to answer such a question he still found it difficult to speak, or even think about. After he realized that he had remained silent for a long few moments, he looked to Silas briefly, to see that the other was still waiting for the response and then he forced words to come out, though he hadn't settled on any in his mind.

"He was..he was a soldier.." he started. Soon after beginning though, he found himself stuck silent once more. He had never spoken to anyone about the man that had cared for him, he couldn't even remember ever speaking of his family's death that had put him into Amasis's care. He let out a sigh and then an awkward laugh, "Sorry.. I tell you to ask me anything and then I just sit here." he shook his head for a moment as the laugh left and a small smile was left on his lips. He let himself fall back against the bed, legs still hanging over the edge but torso stretched out with his red eyes gazing at the ceiling. "He raised me. I don't have a family. There was an earthquake when I was too young to even understand what one was." he started finally and it seemed like the more that he spoke, the less difficult it was to continue, "I was the only one of my family that survived, he rescued me from my home..and when he found out that my family was gone, instead of putting me into the foster care system, he took me in."

He felt a light shudder course through him and then he realized that without even noticing it begin to happen, he had started to cry, the tears that he had forced back earlier, rolling down his cheeks now but that small and now weak smile was still on his lips. He turned his face away from Silas at the point before he finished, "I wouldn't be who I am if I hadn't had him."

Dendera was still surprised that he was even crying at all, he hadn't honestly realized that he was beginning to before the point when the salty liquid began to cascade down his cheeks. And just as unexpected as the tears had come, fingertips began to brush them away, and it was then that the umbreon realized, if he had ever cried in front of someone before then he couldn't remember it. Because, the first memories of it happening were all recent. "Oh?" he asked, an implied question with a small smile playing on his lips as the tears began to slow and stop. "I've always..tried to be someone that he could be proud of.." he began to speak on his own, without a question on the matter being asked, "..if he ever came back."

He bit down on his lower lip and shook his head just lightly. He'd always known that Amasis was never coming back, but still somehow the thought, the possibility, had ingrained itself into him and had been something that he'd held onto. Now, he couldn't even hope or imagine seeing the man again, his last memory being the usual good-bye that they'd share when he'd be sent to fight, the usual good-bye that was never scared or worried. Because back then, Dendera didn't understand the value of life and didn't acknowledge the possibility of death. Other children would weep when their father's went off to fight, but when the umbreon's soldier left, he'd just give a hug and promise not to cause any trouble while the man was gone and then continue whatever he had been doing.

When he heard the vaporeon's next question, he turned his head to look up at him, with a look that questioned why the man had even asked that. He knew that it was easy to tell, his home was all black and white for the most part, even his wardrobe being mostly black, and all of his favorite things were black with gold detail. Black is sleek and often seen as mysterious, dark. He didn't even bother to answer the question, instead pulling himself the rest of the way up onto the bed and then grabbing hold of the hand that had just moments ago wiped away at his tears. He pulled the vaporeon over him, quickly, one hand urging his body at his side, the other pulling him over by the wrist, until the shorter male lay on the other side of the umbreon - the side that he was facing.

Within the new found close proximity, Dendera stared at his companion for a moment before he spoke, gathering up his thoughts to try to translate into words, "Why ask that? You can figure that out on your own, why not ask me something that you actually want to know?" he asked the two questions but continued to speak, though unsure of what words to use for what followed, "I..You don't have to try to protect my feelings. I'm fine. I..I don't know why.." he continued, referring to his earlier tears but unsure of how to say it because it was so foreign to him, and so he left it and continued with what he wanted to say, "..It's surprisingly..nice to talk about him..I never have before." he finished, an attempt to assure the vaporeon that he hadn't hurt him, that it was okay, and that he really could ask him whatever he wanted to know.

Dendera just offered a smile as he caught sight of the all too common stubborn expression on his companion's face and soon after was asked another question. He was unsure of the answer to the first question but the second one was simple enough so he offered up that answer first, "He took me in when I was 5 years old, and he went MIA when I was 17 - old enough to be considered an adult man here. So I guess it was 12 years." as he spoke, softly with reminiscence in his voice, he slid his hand up to rest on the vaporeon's shoulder, idly tracing circles on his skin with the lightest touch of his nails.

He stared into Silas's blue eyes as he began to mentally fish through his memories of years that he hadn't thought about much since he'd left Egypt. There were so many memories, the man taking him into his home, teaching him how to fire a gun at the young age of 5, teaching him how to fight, how to take care of himself, teaching him right from wrong, and teaching him to care for people. He found out, as he began to think about those times, that it was harder to choose one that could be called his favorite than it was to think about them. Nostalgia had colored a pretty picture for him and he was surprised to find that it felt comforting to think about those good memories, after he'd locked them away for so long.

When he finally spoke it started with a short laugh that surprised even him as it came from his lips, "He punished me..for taking apart one of his favorite guns. I owned my own and he said I should 'play' with them instead but I wanted to impress him, make it better than it was." it so odd to speak of things he had done in the past, never having to explain himself before, "When I put it back together he realized that I wasn't just trying to play with the parts and just wanted to help so he apologized for punishing me. After that.." the umbreon closed his eyes for a brief moment, feeling like he could almost see the things that he spoke of, but that small smile was still firmly on his lips, "..he always watched when I took them apart, and he bought me parts all the time. He was proud of me and called it a gift."

Amasis and Dendera had never been a conventional family, he knew that, and perhaps his soldier had allowed things that most parents would die before letting their children do, but the umbreon was grateful for having been raised by such a unique man because now he never had to fear being bullied or pushed around. He could take care of himself, and that was what all parents hoped to teach their children. And Dendera may not have been his child, but they were as much a family as anyone else could have been.

The umbreon's story had reminded him, about the two guns that he cared for greatly, that Silas had set on the bed. He now motioned towards them with the hand that had been idly running over the vaporeon's skin. "I was making them when he left. They were the best I'd ever made. I was going to give them to him." he said softly, revealing the reason why the guns had come to mean so much to him in the first place and then left his hand drop back down against Silas's shoulder once more.

Dendera gave a small nod in response to Silas's statement, speaking up quietly for a moment, "He did raise me." his shoulder raised briefly in a sort of shrugging motion before falling back into just laying quietly beside of the vaporeon. He watched quietly as the vaporeon removed his spiked collar, putting it with the weapons and then when he yawned it widened the smile that was on the umbreon's face. "Are you tired?" he asked quietly, giving little acknowledgment to the compliment on the weapons. He knew that the guns were very fine weapons - the best hand guns he'd made, but he also knew that regardless of the quality, Amasis would have been happy to have them. But now they belonged to the man that made them, and he carried them with him everywhere - they were his sense of security and they protected him, taking the place of his soldier.

"We should go to sleep soon anyway. I have a funeral to go to in the morning.." he said softly, an almost somber tone as he said the last part. But it didn't last long, the smile returning to his face as he looked at his companion, it really had made him feel better to just talk, as simple as it was. "You can come if you want to, but you don't have to." he offered, inviting the shorter male to come along to see the funeral. In Egypt it was common for all males in the community to attend a funeral for an officer or military man, showing their respect for the deceased's service. But of course, Silas wasn't an Egyptian or a member of the community so he wasn't expected to go. But, the umbreon was at least glad now that the other had accompanied him on the trip to his old home.

He sat up then, taking hold of Silas's wrist to urge the boy on to his back before leaning down, placing a brief soft kiss on his lips. "Thank you for coming with me." he said softly before he pulled himself up off the bed, grabbing his guns and the shirt that he'd removed and sitting them on the nightstand by his bed. Before he got into his bed though he paused, standing at the bed's side and then turning back to face his companion again. "Would you be upset if I asked you to sleep with me?" he asked quietly, almost afraid to even ask, for once not trying to fluster the vaporeon. "Not like..that. Just, lay with me." he added finally, it coming out awkwardly but he was sure that Silas would understand what he meant.