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Dendera sat at his counter staring straight at the piece of paper in his hands, the envelope it had come in still lay on the counter before him. This wasn't the first time he'd sat there, reading and rereading, it had been almost a week since it had come in the mail. It was world shattering, or it should be. After the first time he had read it, he just set it down on the counter and went on as if nothing had happened, but his heart pounded his rib cage, beating, knocking, trying to force him into the realization that it wasn't just some letter. It was a notice, and it was real, and this was happening.

He'd been putting it out of his head, refusing to acknowledge it's existence, but now all the bottled up emotions spilled over and he couldn't hold them in any longer. The tears that he had been battling against finally spilled over, and when it rains it pours. He shoved the letter away, dropping his face into his hands as the grown man began to sob. He was visibly shaken, which was all new territory for the man. Nothing could ever bring him down, he was a soldier, he was a warrior, he was a man. But even for him, this a truth he'd tried not to acknowledge.

He traced over the Arabic type script in his head, clenching his eyes shut tight as though he could block it out, but it'd gotten in and finally gotten through. Amasis was dead. Some part of Dendera had always known this, but without a body it never really sunk in. The real permanence that he was gone never really made it through. It was like he had spent his life expecting the man to just appear on his door step one day and be his soldier again, be the man that he'd looked up to again, be the man that made him who he was again, teach him, help him through the hard times, but that wouldn't happen.

He sobbed, long and hard, in his silent home. And once the tears had finally dried up and the shaking stopped, his shoulder slumped, his upper body collapsing against the counter top, as his eyes stared forward towards the letter. It had come straight from the president, he supposed that was meant to be a compliment to the service that Amasis and himself had given to the country that he once called home. It didn't matter who the letter came from though, it still hurt just the same. And it came with something else, something he'd said no to on numerous occasions but considering the death of the man that raised him at the hands of those that he'd fought, Dendera began to actually consider it. It was a request to serve his country again. He didn't know what to do, but in any case he would have to go to Cairo at least for the funeral. The saddened look returned to his face, "Funeral.." it sounded so horrible, he buried his face against his arms again as though he could block out that word.

Dendera was completely in his own world, and for once he didn't hear the door open, he didn't feel the soft heat emanating from a human body, he didn't sense the eyes on him. It was like he'd reverted back to the 5 year old boy that was lost among the wreckage of his home, the boy that needed a soldier to come and take him out of the debris. But when Silas spoke, that familiar voice demanded the return of Dendera, the man.

He slowly lifted his face from his arms, trying to force a smile onto his face but it must have come off as weak at best. Then the vaporeon continued, taking up the letter which the umbreon already knew he wouldn't be able to read a word of, unless Silas secretly knew how to read Arabic. "It's a letter from my old home, Egypt." he said quietly, he wasn't sure if he had told Silas he was from Cairo or not before, but it was at least guessable from the umbreon's appearance and mild accent.

He wasn't sure what else to say, he couldn't just spit out the words that he was having trouble even thinking about, even if it was to tell Silas. He'd grown quite fond of the boy, but this was something that was a little too much. Aside from that, he had a feeling that it would upset the vaporeon to hear about the request that was made in the letter, and he wasn't really ready to be in an argument right now.

So with all of this considered, he opted to give as little information as necessary though surely the boy's curiosity would ask for more, he would just avoid the painful points of the subject, for his own good. Even Dendera had to be selfish sometimes, "I have to go to Cairo." he said finally, crossing his arms over the counter and resting his chin on top of them, his eyes now stuck to the envelope. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes now, as though he hadn't cried till his chest hurt just a while ago. But he fought them back, tried hard to keep them from spilling, lest Silas worry about them.

Dendera's body shook as though he were freezing, a silent shudder at his thoughts. He could practically feel how much it affected Silas, and he felt bad but he couldn't be the one to comfort the vaporeon right now, he really wanted to but he just didn't have the strength for that right now. He couldn't pretend that everything was ok, he couldn't reassure the man, he couldn't promise to return. He didn't know what was going to happen, and it felt like that letter had changed everything. It's true that a part of him, the logical part of him, had known for years now that Amasis was dead. But he hadn't had to face it before as an undeniable fact. There had always been the chance, however slim, of his return. And that had been a secret hope that had kept Dendera strong, for him.

But now the man that had made him the man he was, was dead. Killed by those Dendera had fought on countless occasions, making it hard for the umbreon to deny his aid in fighting them again. He gritted his teeth at the thought, normally his memories of war were solemn to him but right now it just brought out a silent bitter anger, one that turned a normally tender and just man into one that would seek relief through fighting.

Silas's question hurt, a lot more than he could know. 'I don't want to leave..I don't..I have to.. how could I not be there for him when he was always there for me?' his thoughts supplied, an attempt at a comforting reality for Silas but it wouldn't leave his lips. How could he explain just what Amasis was to him? How could he explain what he meant to him? How could he even say his name? He couldn't talk about this, not now.

"I don't know." he finally responded, his voice starting to break. That was all that he could bear, he quickly shoved his face into his arms once more as his body shuddered with the sobs of a severely distressed man. "I don't know.." he repeated in desperation. He hated for Silas to see him like this, it made it hurt that much more. He wanted Silas to always see him as the strong caring man that he tried to be, but some things bring even strong men to their knees.

Dendera was still quite visibily shaken and the hand that he felt touching his head didn't quite help. A part of him understood what it meant for Silas to choose to touch anyone on his own, and that part of him was grateful. But for the most part he was just unsettled to even be like this in the boy's presence. How could he keep a promise to protect the vaporeon when he couldn't even compose himself?

He felt almost ill from it all, the shuddering slowly peeling him away from sanity. He tried hard to bite back the tears but they wouldn't stop, it caused the sobbing to be more vocal when he tried to stop it, which made him bite down on his lip in an attempt to contain it. He couldn't remember a time that he had ever felt so weak and helpless, in fact there probably was never a time in his life that Dendera felt like this. He was easily a vessel of optimism, usually finding hope in the worst of times, but now he was confused and scared and sad and angry. His heart being tugged in all directions.

He didn't even realize what Silas meant when he spoke, he couldn't think about it. He hadn't noticed that the letter was pocketed, not until long after the vaporeon had run off, and he became able to stop his tears, and looked forward at the counter. It was missing. Now he understood what Silas meant, the boy wanted to know what the letter said. Part of him was worried about what would happen when it was translated, but another part of him felt that at least he wouldn't have to say it this way, this way he didn't have to be the one to tell the vaporeon. Once he'd finally run out of the energy to cry any longer, run out of the energy for worry or for thinking, he pulled himself out of his seat, shuffling into the living room. He sank into the couch, his eyes closing as he let himself drift in and out of sleep, his consciousness dancing between the world around him and the world inside him. What was he going to do? No choice seemed right.

Dendera had been sinking in and out of sleep while waiting on the inevitable. Silas would come back, he would be upset, he would want to know what Dendera was going to do. The umbreon wished he could answer that question, he wasn't even sure himself anymore. He'd been asked on numerous occasions by both the Egyptian military and the American military. His expertise was near unmatched, that he was confident in. But that didn't mean that he wanted to serve anymore. He had given his time to his country, and risked his life for four years in battle for her. Now he just wanted a normal life, he was happy wasn't he?

Yes, he had been. He had been living the life that he wanted, something that most people don't get the pleasure of doing. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and had enough money to get by and provide for his hobbies. And more recently he had found a good friend in the stubborn vaporeon, and was really getting used to having him around. But still, that letter shook him to the core. Didn't he have an obligation? If not to his country, then to the man that raised him, made him who he was. It was an obligation to fight the good fight, in the man's place, in his good name.

The umbreon didn't want to go back, but did he have a choice? Would his sense of duty allow him to say no? As these thoughts raced he didn't notice the entrance of one very angry vaporeon. He didn't notice him until a fist landed roughly in his jaw. Dendera recoiled from the punch but quickly countered it, grasping hold of the man's wrists fast and firmly. He didn't admonish him or attempt to seek retribution for the punch that had slammed into his jaw. When he looked up at Silas he understood why he'd done it and couldn't be mad at him for it.

"President of the Arabic Republic..." Dendera corrected him in a hushed voice, unsure of what else to say. He didn't want to confirm that he was actually considering it, he really didn't want to. He knew how upset it would make the vaporeon, after all the umbreon had promised that he wasn't going anywhere, and now this was happening. "I'm sorry.." he said quietly, "I have to at least go to the funeral. He..." the words got caught in his throat and he held back the emotions that were on the brink of breaking loose. He supposed that the man was his father, for all intents and purposes. But the umbreon had always simply referred to him as 'My soldier...he was my soldier'. The thought was nearly heartbreaking with the knowledge of his death. He didn't want to be away from Silas anymore than Silas wanted to be away from him, but he had to go. He knew that he had to attend the funeral at the very least.

Dendera's face did sting, he thought that it might bruise, then again it might not. The umbreon's body was becoming used to taking a hit, he wasn't one to bruise easy. But it did hurt, not enough to cripple the soldier, but enough to notice. He took it for what it was though, a sign the the vaporeon cared enough to make a fuss over him. He wanted to find the strength in himself to assure the man that he would stay by his side, that he would be ok, that everything would be ok. But at the moment, he couldn't even convince himself of it so it wouldn't sound convincing anyway. It was pointless to try to say something he didn't mean.

What the vaporeon did next was a surprise to the umbreon. Usually he wasn't surprised by the things that came from Silas, usually he knew what to expect from him. But honestly, he hadn't thought that the boy would drop everything and go to a country that he didn't know to be at a funeral for a man that he didn't know, even if it was to stay by Dendera's side. He seemed pretty determined too, and Dendera knew better than to think that he was joking at all.

It seemed that when Silas decided to do something, he was stubborn enough that you couldn't really stop him at least not without quite a good amount of effort. The umbreon thought about it for a few moments, his head dropping to look down at the couch cushions for those moments before lifting up to stare into those blue eyes again.

He'd decided to be selfish. Usually he was completely giving and protective and wouldn't put himself above others but right now, he was in a fragile state, and he could really use a friend. So he would let the man come along, even though it would be better for Silas to stay in his mind. He didn't really know if Silas was leaving behind obligations or not but either way, he'd made up his mind. He wouldn't protest to the man's company. He wanted him to be there and it was comforting to think that he would be.

"You don't have to ride in the luggage, unless you want to.." he joked quietly, a weak smile forcing its way onto his lips. That confusion and sadness was still there but he was trying so hard to be himself again. "I'll buy you a ticket." he said, still speaking in a soft tone. "I'm leaving tonight though, so you'll have to tie up any loose ends now and pack your things. If you really want to go.." he finished, trying to ready himself for packing again. He hated doing it, the sense of leaving things behind, and the knowledge of why he was doing it. But it had to be done.

'An hour?' Dendera didn't bother to protest to the short time he had just been given to pack for his own trip as the vaporeon rushed out the door. He slumped back against the couch once more, looking up towards his ceiling as the thoughts began to swarm round his head like vultures. 'What would you want me to do?' he pondered, as though he could speak with the dead, unfortunately he didn't possess that skill.

After a moment, and no response from his passed caretaker, the umbreon peeled himself from the couch. Moping wouldn't get him anywhere, he assured himself in his attempts to motivate himself out of the funk that he was now in over the news. Besides, the blue haired male would be back within an hour expecting a trip. He made his way to his room, he was sure to pack a variety of clothing, knowing that the temperature of Egypt varied greatly from day to night time. He packed up his necessities, along with 'Hope' and 'Faith' and his license to transport them in and out of the country, along with his degree to validate it. He thought about packing up some video games, usually he did for trips. But he didn't think he would be in the mood to play them right now.

Besides, he could busy himself with showing his home land to his new companion. He had so many memories there, good and bad. It made his chest feel so heavy. It had been a while since he had left Egypt, he had mixed feelings about seeing her again. But it didn't matter, he was going be it a good thing or a bad thing.

He surprisingly finished his packing before the vaporeon could arrive, he'd even had time to get online and order tickets for the flight so that they would be waiting when they arrived. He tucked the laptop into it's laptop carry bag and slung it over his shoulder along with the other bags that he carried. It only took him one trip to load it all into the back of his car and then he got inside to head for Silas's home. He wasn't sure of all of what the vaporeon had to do before leaving, it was such short notice. Most people would ask for a day or two, at least a few hours. But his friend had thought one hour would be enough. Sure enough though it had been, because before he could get to the boys house he saw him walking down the road. The umbreon slowed to a stop, leaning across the vehicle to open the door for Silas. He didn't bother to greet him, it was hardly necessary.