[im so stressed homecoming is today and im not like. Ready for it. I don't know if I even wanna go there're gonna be like 2500 people in one small area of my entire school but they have free ice cream]

It'd taken nearly five hours to move the final tent near the site we'd visited three days ago. It took another day to set everything back up as it had been, and another few to convince Dallon to calm down and return to the black line with us for what we all hoped to be the final time.

I was proud to say I'd gotten closer to everybody, more to Dallon than anybody else. Ryan said he took a liking to me too, which I guess was a good and bad thing in that case.

Pete was still pissed about Dallon's claim of the line being the ring to a nest, and had spent the last hour while we were setting up brushing away dirt for the rest of his theory - that it was a giant ring and not the outskirts to a giants nest.

"Hey Brendon, Dallon," Josh pulled my sunglasses down so he could see my eyes, holding up a pad of paper and a pen "it's my turn for dinner tonight. Did you guys want me to cook anything specific?"

"What do you have?"

"On the menu, we have freeze dried chicken, butter and herb instant noodles, and some water-activated macaroni and cheese," Josh grinned slyly, clicking the top to his pen, "I'll put you down for those. And Dallon too. Because it's actually all we have at the moment."

"Really? I thought we had more options—"

"Someone ate them all, I guess," Josh shrugged, "almost everything is gone. My bet is on Pete."

Pete skidded right beside us, kicking up dirt in a cloud so tall it dusted right over Dallon. He shook Dallon's shoulders and spun around in hyper little circles before coming to a stop right behind Josh with a Cheshire Cat grin.

"It's not a nest."

Dallon shot up, anger sparking in his eyes like the other day before he'd changed in the blink of an eye. I grabbed his arm and held him down from strangling Pete before either could take another breath. "What else is it supposed to be then, Wentz?" He growled again, and my heart lurched.

"C'mon, I'll show you," he took off over to the flags sticking out of the ground, forcing us to follow without an explanation.

The black line extended in a perfect circle, bright blue spray paint lines marking spots where Patrick was with Tyler taking pictures. Tyler held a small device the size of a tissue box connected to the camera, waving printed photos between his fingers as each of them effortlessly slid out. Their footprints traced around the line before extending for a few feet at a perfect ninety degree angle off the line, where more black traced through the dirt.

Anger practically radiated from Dallon as he neared the lines, polar opposite from Pete's excitement.

"I swore on it, I wouldn't disappoint you or the museum and I've done it," he skipped over the circle with arms outstretched, smile on his face, "I told you I could do something right, I told you!"

"Well what is it?" Josh squinted at the dirt, Ryan running up behind us.

"Actually, I'm not exactly sure about that part, but I was hoping you guys might be able to figure it out." He waved us over to the inner circle.

Upon closer investigation, Patrick and Tyler were photographing bones, at first glance in random spots until you looked closer. The rib cages were placed perfectly on dark spots, a deep red dribbling towards the same spot.

"Yknow what else I found?" Pete stepped back a step and kicked up more dirt, settling around another black line, the same as the first. He pointed in front of him then behind with a smirk. "There're more."

Ryan scoffed, stepping forwards to the nearest rib cage stuck in the ground. "This doesn't make any sense? This is like..."

"Like what?" Dallon grumbled through clenched teeth, growling again when he didn't receive an answer. "Say it. I know you're thinking it."

Ryan kept his gaze to the side, Pete as well. Almost as if they were scared. I was too, honestly. I nearly regretted getting myself into this team - just over a day in and we'd found something we shouldn't have, and Dallon either understood that, or was afraid of the mere idea too.

Nobody wanted to say it. Nobody wanted to think of it. But we all knew what it was.

"It's like a sacrifice."

_________

[this part is freaky and horribly written it was in March and I like. Didn't wanna rewrite it. Peak laziness]

Ryan stopped by my tent later that day, not even giving any type of warning. Not that I was doing anything, but it would've been nice to know.

He sat beside me with his arms hugged to his chest, wiping at the bags under his eyes. "Something's different."

No duh. Obviously things hadn't been like they were before I'd gotten here, the jokes they made (and had begun to include me in) on an hourly basis an obvious sign. As the day had progressed on from the whole ordeal, their comments ceased and nobody was laughing.

"Look, Ryan. I've been here for barely a week. I don't know what you want me to do about it." I stuffed my dirty shirt in the hamper box across the room, grabbing one of my old shirts from another chest kept under my bed.

And he said the six words I'd been dreading and praying he wouldn't. "You have to talk to Dallon."

"Why me? You can do it, you're capable enough - I barely even know him!"

He shook his head no and blinked away tears pooling in his glassy eyes. I'd only known him for 5 days, but I'd known him long enough to realize this wasn't his usual behavior. Ryan was more of a roll with the punches guy, too tough for tears. "Something is wrong, Brendon. I don't know what it is, but Dallon isn't like that at all. He won't tell me. Something happened after I left, that circle wasn't there before you got here. I went over that patch of land myself a dozen times. Please, just talk to him about it. He trusts you."

"Do my laundry for a week and I will." I bargained and he accepted with a thankful smile before shoving me out of my own tent.

Dallon was talking to someone in his tent, the lights off almost purposely so I wouldn't be able to tell who it was without intruding.

"Stop, stop. I can't do that. I'm not going to," he whispered "you can't make me..." a loud rip sounded, echoing through the air like a gunshot. I was surprised and worried when nobody came out to investigate, a little thankful at the same time. I could handle this by myself. Probably.

I shut my eyes and slowly curled my fingers around the tent flap, hoping he wouldn't straight up murder me if I startled him. "Hey, Dallon, it's Brendon. Are you okay? Can I come in?"

I heard his heavy uneven breaths, choppy and labored, but nothing else. Not another sound for a solid minute. Terrifying, to put it in terms lightly. We both stood frozen until I called out a second time, a little quieter this time. He growled again, like a rabid dog, but that seemed to be the least of my problems when the lamp flickered on and I realized he was alone in his tent. Dallon had been convincing himself to not do something. His silhouette was facing me, hands balled into fists at his sides.

"Dallon? Is everything okay?"

Almost as if he were either ignoring me or forgot I existed, he muttered to himself again. "Oh, that's him isn't it... how cute, a hopeless crush?..." the tent flaps whisked aside without warning and those icy blue eyes loomed down over me like an impending storm.

But there was something different again. Maybe it was the out of place smirk, or the gleam in his eyes that wasn't the Dallon that blushed when he said my eyes were a pretty color.

"Is everything okay? Y-you were talking to yourself in there-"

"What? No, no. I was talking to my... cousin. My cousin. Over the phone." He nodded, suppressing a sour look from washing over his features.

We didn't get cell service out so far in the desert.

"I didn't know you had a cousin. What's their name?" I crossed my arms and watched Dallon's vacant expression sink.

"A-Alex. Their name is Alex." He stuttered, almost too slowly answering. It was an on the spot answer from out of nowhere; there was no room to conjure up a lie.

"I thought-"

"We don't talk about him. He's been in prison for a while." I knew he was lying, but I smiled and went along with it.

"Can I come in?" I asked and he held the flap open for me to pass under his arm.

His tent was a mess. Not simply disorganized, no, Dallon wasn't like that from what I'd heard and been told. Lists and various papers taped to the interior had been torn to shreds only able to be done so by claws, photographs torn down the middle or scribbled over with dark sharpie ink. In the very back was a map depicting the area, marked with black pen like the circles out in the field. However, the rest had been covered in blue sharpie, pictures in place of words. I couldn't make them out, I didn't even want to know what language they were written in. It looked Egyptian, from my limited knowledge of the civilization.

I didn't know what they meant, but it was even more terrifying than Dallon's self discussion.

I turned around to ask him about it, but before I could say a word his hands were cupping my face and locking our lips together, leaning over me to compensate for the drastic height difference. And without meaning to, I melted into his grip, pulling him down closer, hanging on to every breath like it would be our last. My back arched in turn to the curve of his, pressing together in an impatient want for more.

But then I remembered the photos, the mumbling to nobody, the growls and the strange glint in his eyes that wasn't his own. The unidentifiable pictures on the map, the way he nearly killed Pete the other day. And I was utterly terrified.

I pushed away after a few seconds more, his touch trailing down my neck to my shoulders and to my hands, holding on so I couldn't get away so easily.

"Why don't you stay, baby," he whispered coolly, fingers tracing lower with each word "we can do whatever you'd like..."

Fear numbed my mind, and I internally freaked at the chilling reminder that Dallon wasn't Dallon. "Actually I was still unpacking, and uh, getting used to things. I have to hang up photos a-and, er, clean the floor. See you tomorrow?" He let go at the last word with a meaningless forced smile, staying frozen in place until I left the tent for my own.

Well, he'd thought I left. I stood outside for a second longer, listening for anything more to tell Ryan about.

Something crashed, like glass shattering, and the sound of paper ripping sounded again. The tent flap opened and Dallon stuffed the map into my hands, only the section with the pictures on it. The familiar blue was back, rimmed with tears.

"I'm sorry." He whispered with fleetingly broken words, but before he could retreat back inside I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him out with me.

"For what? Sorry for what?"

He didn't answer.