Frank and Walid walked slowly through the camp, Frank looking around as if he'd never seen it or the people before. As they walked, Frank desperately tried to think of something to say, feeling awkward at the whole situation.

Walid spoke first. "Is the heat bothering you?"

Frank opened his mouth to say 'no', but it would be an obvious lie; he was sweating like crazy, and the heat combined with his headache was making him dizzy. "I'm all right," he said.

Walid laughed, shaking his head. "We are too much alike. Very much like our grandfather."

Frank looked a question at him.

Walid nodded. "He was our best leader, hated by many foes who tried often to kill him. He's been injured more times then this whole tribe combined." He shook his head. "And yet, he always insisted that he was fine. Bleeding and half conscious, it did not matter; according to him, he was fine."

Frank smiled. "I seem to recall being that way too."

Walid nodded, with a laugh. "Yes, you are, and so am I! Let us find a place to sit, you look as if you are about to fall down." Suddenly, he stopped.

Frank stopped too. "What?" he asked.

Walid shaded his eyes, looking off into the distance. "Think you can make it that far?" he asked, pointing.

Frank followed his finger, seeing a lake and rocks beyond a horse corral. His legs were hurting, and his body felt weaker and weaker the longer they walked, but he said, "Yeah."

Walid smiled and they both headed in that direction, Walid taking Frank's arm to assist him, to Frank's inward relief.

As they walked, Frank grew even more grateful for Walid's help when his vision suddenly swirled, but thankfully righted itself. He bit back a groan as the glare of the hot sun increased his headache, and he felt immense relief when they reached the rocks.

"Do you remember this spot?" Walid asked.

Before Frank could answer, he suddenly slipped on the rock, but Walid quickly grabbed him, gently sitting him down.

Walid sat next to him, a steadying hand still on his cousin's arm as Frank closed his eyes and raised his other hand, placing it on the side of his head, as if making sure it stayed on his neck.

"Are you all right?" Walid asked, nervously.

Frank exhaled deeply. "Yeah."

"You left the hospital early," Walid stated, more then asked.

Frank opened his eyes and lowered his hand, not able to hide the smile preceding his next words. "Of course. I take after our grandfather."

********************

"Bintee."

Alanur turned, to see her father slowly walking towards her. "Where is your bodyguard?" she asked with a smile, taking his arm.

Ardeth laughed. "Safti is engaged in an interesting activity with Jake."

"And what is that?" Alanur asked.

"They are arm-wrestling."

Alanur's mouth dropped. "Arm wrestling?! He's 100 years old!"

Ardeth nodded. "It was his idea. I think he might actually let Jake win."

Alanur laughed at that.

"What are you doing, bintee?"

Alanur sighed. "Wondering where Frank is."

"With Walid," said Ardeth.

Alanur nodded. "I mean I wonder where they went."

Ardeth shook his head, not knowing. "I'm sure he is all right."

Alanur nodded, smiling at her father.

Ardeth smiled back, and turned, walking off to find out the outcome of Safti and Jake's wrestling match.

********************

"We used to come here all the time?"

Walid nodded. "When we made camp in this area, this spot was the first place you and I would go. We saw so much sand that we loved to sit by the water every chance we got." He smiled. "The minute we arrived, we would rush over here and jump right in, heavy robes and all."

Frank tried desperately to remember, but had no such luck.

Walid saw his struggle, and sighed. "Do you remember what name you usually call me?" he asked.

Frank frowned. "Name?"

Walid nodded. "Something I only allow you to use."

Frank couldn't remember, and made a sound of frustration. "What do I call you?"

Walid smiled. "Wally."

Frank smiled back, not expecting that for an answer. "I call you 'Wally'?"

Walid nodded. "You're the only one who gets away with it because you have an Americanized name too. To the tribe I'm Walid Bay; Med-jai Leader, but to you I'm just cousin Wally."

Frank laughed.

Walid looked off in the distance, glad to see that the sun was almost about to set. When he looked back at Frank, he saw an odd look on his face.

"Frank?" he said, concerned.

Frank blinked. "You saved my life, once."

Walid smiled. "That's right. Do you remember how?"

Frank lowered his head, thinking. It was a minute or two before he said, "The camp was attacked."

Walid nodded.

"I was fighting…and had some sort of difficulty." He frowned at that, not remembering why. "The man I was fighting was built like an ox, and punched me in the head," he unconsciously rose his hand to his wound. "I was stunned, and he was about to stab me with his sword. The next I knew I was in a tent and you were bending over me." He looked at Walid. "You killed him."

Walid nodded. "You weren't as skilled with a sword, thanks to living in America half the time. You were capable of defending yourself, but that man was too much."

Frank nodded. "I remember how needlessly worried my mother was, when you brought her to me."

"Yes," Walid agreed. "You always were prone to head injuries. Even when you had one that wasn't bad, she worried."

Frank sighed. "I wonder how she feels about this one."

They sat in silence for a minute, as the sun went down.

"Come," said Walid. "It is nearly time for the evening meal. You need more rest."

Frank stood, with Walid's help, and they walked back to the camp.

********************

"There they are," said Jake.

Alanur stood and followed Jake's finger, seeing her son and Walid making their way towards them.

"Where have you been?" she asked, taking Frank's arm.

"At the pond," Walid told her. "Frank remembered something."

Alanur's face lit up, as they joined Ardeth and Frank's team where they sat around a campfire. As they ate, Frank told them what he'd remembered.

"It looks as if your memory is returning, hafid," said Ardeth, happily.

Frank smiled, finally feeling a glimmer of hope. Suddenly he heard a strange laugh, and it chilled him to the bone.

"Frank?" Alex said, hearing him gasp.

Everyone looked at him, to see him staring over the campfire at a group of Med-jai.

"Frank?" said Alanur. "What is it?"

Frank said nothing, continuing to stare.

Concerned, they all moved closer, touching him or repeating his name.

Suddenly he spoke. "Him."

"Who?" Alanur asked.

Frank raised his arm, pointing. "That man killed my father!"

Everyone looked at him, dumbstruck.

"Frank!" said Alanur, feeling a jolt of fear hit her stomach. "Frank, you don't know who killed him, his murderer was never found!"

Frank's team looked at each other, in shock at this new piece of info.

Frank said nothing, staring at the man who was laughing at the story another Med-jai was telling him. In Frank's mind, he was seeing something very different.

"I'm not sure what I want to become, Dad," Frank said to his father.

Frank Donovan Sr. smiled as they walked down the street. "You should think of something soon, at your age."

The sixteen-year-old Frank shrugged. "I will…I just don't know what, yet."

"It's a hard decision," his father said. "But I know you'll do great in whatever you choose, son."

Frank Jr. smiled at him, and stopped. "I gotta get something in this store."

His father nodded. "Okay. I'll be at that newspaper box," he said, gesturing across the street.

Frank Jr. nodded and went into the store, and his father kept walking.

"Donovan!" he suddenly heard.

Turning, Frank Sr. looked for the owner of the voice, but saw no one. "Who's there?"

"Donovan!"

Frank Sr. followed the voice, around the side of the building. Suddenly, he was grabbed.

Frank Jr. came out of the store, and stopped when he didn't see his father where he was supposed to be. "Dad?" he called.

Suddenly he heard a strangled cry, and ran towards it. As he ran around the side of the building, he heard a gasp, and then a cruel laugh. "Dad!" he called again.

When he reached the back of the store, he was faced with the worst sight of his young life. His father was lying on the ground, not moving, a pool of blood beneath him.

Frank screeched to a halt, in fear and shock. He was about to run to his father, but he suddenly heard a sound behind himself, and turned around.

Rafiq had tried to sneak up on the boy, but had accidentally stepped on something he didn't even bother to identify. When Frank Jr. turned, Rafiq had no choice but to punch him in the face.

Frank fell to the ground, out cold.

Rafiq shook his head, with a sigh of exasperation. He hadn't wanted the boy to be put in this situation; Rafiq thought he had more time before he came out of the store. "I have nothing against you, son," he said, as if Frank could hear him. 'Son', he thought, with a sigh. "You should've been my son," he said, and gently picked him up…

"Hey Frankie! What the heck's wrong with you, man?"

Frank opened his eyes with a groan, seeing the faces of his two best friends over him. "Wha—?"

"Wow, this is awesome, man!" Frank's friend Marty said. "Frankie Donovan; drunk and passed out on my front steps! Who'd've thought it, man?"

Frank sat up, holding his spinning head. "What happened?" he asked.

"Yup, he's drunk," said the other kid, Matt.

Frank raised his head to look at him, and realized he was sitting in the grass at Marty's house. "Drunk?" he repeated. "I don't drink."

His two friends laughed. "There's a first time for everything!"

Frank was confused. Why would he drink, he'd never had the urge to, and his friends were good enough not to lay any peer pressure on him! Trying to get up, his two friends helped him into the house.

"You better stay here until it wears off," said Marty. "So when you go home your mother won't know."

Frank sat on the couch, trying to figure out why something inwardly felt wrong. "I don't remember drinking," he said.

"Been there!" said Matt.

Frank said nothing, sitting there in confusion. Eventually, he asked Marty to take him home, and when they arrived, there was a police car in his driveway.

Getting out of the car, he ran inside to find his mother crying hysterically. "Mom?!"

Alanur jumped up from her seat. "Frank!" she grabbed him, holding him tightly. "He's dead, Frank…your father is dead…"

'bintee': Egyptian Arabic for 'my daughter'

'hafid' : 'grandson'

How you all like THAT twist? Unexpected? lol ;)