I guess something about the way I slid down it head tilted back made him concerned. I’m just relaxing. And dramatic.

“Did you eat breakfast?” He asks. I shake my head no. He nods. “We need something more than junk food anyway.” He approaches and his expression hardens as I tuck my arms and legs in becoming more guarded. “Relax, your punishment is over.” 

 

“I’m sorry.” I whisper. I lower my head, lacing my fingers. 

He looks at me briefly before throwing the bags over his shoulder. “Grab your stuff.” 

“I’m not comfortable without my hoodie and headphones.” I croak. Hoping that he’d return them. He appears to consider. I tuck in on myself harder. 

“I’ll bring them to you.” He says. I let out a breath of relief. I stay tucked until he comes back with the items. I make sure to use the hand that was shackled to accept them. A dark bruise from the restraint draws his attention briefly before I pull the hoodie on. Once I cover my hands with the sleeves, I put on the noise canceling headphones and pull up the hood. Hugging myself tightly as I finally feel whole again. 

For some reason he waits until I get up on my own, grabbing my things, before saying, “Alright, come on.” He opens the door and goes out to the car. I look into the woods and around the parking lot in the daylight. Stopping when I see a big, deer-looking animal. The way it watches me as I walk concerns me more than a little bit. I turn back to my “uncle” and see that he’s gotten all the way to the car. I run after him and jump into the backseat locking the doors. 

“What’s-” He cuts himself off as he sees the deer. He looks at it and then starts reaching for a bag but it steps back, disappearing into the foliage. 

“What was that?” I ask quietly.

“I don’t know.” He says slowly, eyes narrowed and that startles me. 'He knows so much more than I do yet apparently not everything.' 

The car doesn’t turn on at first. Chugging for a while. He turns the key again and after whirring for a second the car engine and the engine light comes on. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I comfort myself as I settle in for the car ride. He has the bird in the passenger seat probably so I don’t try to let it out in the car. 

...The Diner...

I look at the busy parking lot. 'The food must be really good,' I think to myself. The madman parks the car and covers the birdcage with a shirt. 

“Come on.” He says, sounding tired.

First thing he orders is a cup of coffee. I sheepishly ask for a hot chocolate. Then he orders us both huge helpings of a stereotypical breakfast. I watch him act normal then when the food arrives starts scarfing it down. I sneak a little food into a napkin I placed in my lap to give to the bird. Putting it in my pocket I pick at the food looking around the bustling diner. 

It takes a second but as my stomach settles I eat larger mouthfuls of egg and sausage. I make sure not to look at the madman. Something about me enjoying the food feels like it’ll be ruined if we make eye contact. I pick up a thing of bacon and sway back and forth as I start genuinely enjoying the vibe here. I take a bite of the bacon and then a big bite of pancake. No butter, no syrup. 

The madman suddenly offers some of his cup of coffee. I freeze midchew. He looks at my face and then says, “I figured you’d need help washing that bite down.” 

I snort carefully to not spray food everywhere and then swallow albeit with difficulty. 

“Do you have any diseases I should be worried about?” 

He looks annoyed but then again he almost always did. Maybe it was his resting face. 

“I don’t.” He answers sipping the cup of three creams and three or four sugars. I noted that he liked “real” sugar and not the artificial stuff. I sip my hot chocolate. Then consider whether or not I actually want some coffee. I never really got to drink it and I don’t know if I’d even like it. 

“Do you not like syrup?” He asks. I cringe. 

“I do. I like butter too.” 

He makes a, 'then why aren’t you eating your pancakes with it,' face. 

I stop him when he tried to give me the community syrup. “Please don’t, I don’t like sharing stuff with the public.” 

He acknowledges with a nod and then waves down the waitress. I think she actually saw my face for the first time because concern takes over her smile. 

“Do you have any to-go containers of syrup and butter?” My “uncle” was saying.

She stutters, “Sorry, to-go yes sir I’ll be right back.”

The madman looks at me, “Don’t think about asking her for help.”

“For what?” I sigh, “I’m still being hunted, I have to stick with you remember?” He seems satisfied with this answer and finishes his food. I get a “do you need help?” note as well as a free cookie, the syrup, butter, and her phone number as well as the personal number of the sheriff. I pocket it all except the butter and syrup and then dig into my pancakes while they’re still warm. 

She brings me more hot chocolate and tops off his coffee. I thought about what I could do. At least she was kind enough to try to help me. I mess with my split lip and bruised jaw and the madman slowly notices. 

“Are they bothering you?” He asked me. 

I shrug, “Not really.” I lie. He narrows his eyes and then finishes a second cup of coffee. I sip my hot chocolate feeling like I might burst. I close my eyes, leaning my head back. Mmm I loved how it wasn’t made out of a packet but out of real chocolate and maybe it even had cream in it. I didn't know places did that. I lower my head wondering how long it’d be until I have another home cooked meal like this.

“Let’s get going.” The madman stands, leaves a tip and walks away. I walk after him and notice that the waitress is watching, she’s leaning anxiously, talking to the cook through the window. 

“I’ll be right there.” I murmur. I go up to the counter where I can talk to them.  

“You okay?” She asks quietly. 

“Yes.”

“How’d you get those bruises?” The cook comes over and I lower my chin a little so it’s harder to see. “That man split your lip too?” 

“Yeah. But he’s legally adopted me so there’s nothing you can really do.” I fiddle with the note in my pocket. “I got your number and,” I look back to see he’s waiting outside, “I have to stick with him for now but I’m almost eighteen.”

She looks concerned but the cook takes over, “If he tries to hurt you again call the sheriff or for fucks sakes run.” He makes a soothing gesture to the waitress “as long as you’ve got a phone that is.” 

“I do.” They seem to relax a little bit. “Thanks for the free cookie and the hot chocolate was really good.” I grin awkwardly. 

She scrambles, “Here let me get you a to-go cup.” 

Once alone the chef asks me, “You sure you don’t want to stay here kid, we can protect you.”

I rub my bandaged hand knowing if he saw all the cuts and bruises he might be less willing to let me go. “I just pissed him off.”

“There’s no excuse to hit someone, especially a kid.”

The waitress comes back pressing the hot chocolate in my hand, “You can text me whenever and I’ll come get you if I have to. I’m the oldest of eight so I can’t help but be a bit protective.” 

“Thank you.” I say.

“The sheriff won’t take you from me.” The madman says leaning against his car. 

“I know, I told them that.” 

“You shouldn’t have spoken to them.” 

I lift the cocoa, “Then you shouldn’t have bruised my face especially if I’m supposed to be your “I’m a normal guy” cover. It doesn't work if I have obvious signs of abuse. That draws people's attention.” 

I watch him smirk and then get into the car. 

I follow and when the car starts up normally ask him, “Why did you smirk?”

“I just thought about making sure to hide your bruises better.”

I look at him closely and realize he’s just being cruel, I huff. 

“Can I hold Bird?”

“Bird?” He turns a little, “Don’t tell me you named it that?” I stay quiet. 

He offers me the cage. “Don’t let it out in the car. And don’t feed it anything.” 

I start. “Why?” 

“It ate enough earlier.” 

“Are you trying to starve it to death?” I clench my aching jaw knowing I needed to shut up. He looks back at me and I flinch. “S, sorry, sorry, please I got it something better to eat.” ‘Then cake and my blood’, “I don't want to waste it.”

“I don’t want it to get too strong.”

“The bars make it weak and it’s still getting better right?” My voice is shaking and I can see that it’s irritating him, 

“How’s it going to survive you draining it’s blood like this?”

He thinks about it and then tosses me the cage. I gasp and catch it. The poor thing hisses but is shaking. I quickly put the napkin with the food inside. The bird looks up at me and quickly opens up the napkin sitting delicately on the corner of it. The first time it’s bare flesh isn’t touching the metal I realize. I note to give it a blanket and pillows as soon as possible. They lay on top of it and then I look away as they seem to curl over and cry. 

After a while I sip on the drinks he gave me again and realize I’d need a little teacup or something for the bird as well. “U, uncle?” I ask tentatively. 

His head turns slightly. “Yes?”

“When will we reach the next store? I want to get some things.” I didn’t really expect him to accept that so easily but I still don’t know what to say when he makes an amused noise.

“What kind of things?”

“F, for Bird.” I bite my lip and then wince forgetting it was hurt. 

He thinks about it, tilting his head, “Give me the numbers they gave you…to rescue you or whatever.” I shuffle, ‘kinda shocked he knew about them,’ pulling them out of my pocket and handing them over. He looks at the pieces of paper lazily for a second. “Now tell me specifically what you want to get “Bird”.” He laughs.

“Some doll house supplies, specifically a pillow and blanket…maybe even a teacup.” I look at him and then look away in case he makes fun of me, face scrunching up.

He murmurs, “How considerate.”

“W, will you let me?”

“No.”

I tense up and then let out a shuddering breath looking at the fairy again. It’s not eating. I try nudging some egg towards it and once again it lashes out biting me. I adjust my hand to hide the fact that I let it. After a long moment it’s jaws loosen but instead of licking my blood it just goes limp leaving it’s hand on my finger. I sigh and curl up careful not to knock it off the napkin watching it fall asleep taking these big huge breaths that concern me that it might be hurting a lot more than it’s showing.

                                                            .          .           .   Gruagach   .         .          .

The car makes a violent breaking down noise. I jerk fully awake. The madman curses under his breath as I sit up and look past the steering wheel. A LOT of lights were on. He checks the map again and then hits the gas. I grab the seats to hold on and watch as more and more concerning lights flicker and clanking, grinding, screeching noises get louder and louder until there's a boom! 

   

I crack open an eye and yell, the front of the car is on fire. I grab my stuff and scramble out of the car like it’ll explode any second. The man calmly unloads everything and then the trunk. He pulls out his phone to check for service. I start whimpering, panicked. 

“Yeah I need a tow truck or maybe just a ride to the next town.” He says into the phone. He’s looking into the woods casually. 

I look around thinking, ‘thankfully it’s still day.’ 

“Alright see you in an hour.”

“An hour?!” I exclaim.

“That’s my nephew, he's pretty panicked.” The madman grins at me, “Yeah he’s easily scared, whimpering and everything.”  

I flip off my “uncle” and sit on the side of the road. Once off the phone he walks past me, picks up the cage and goes into the woods. I watch as he gets further and further away then realize he’s probably needing to pee so I look away quickly. Except he proceeds to disappear for the entire hour. I was nervous, jittery, and jumping at every noise when the tow truck finally arrived. 

As if on cue my uncle reemerges as the tow truck guy jumps down and I immediately get bad vibes. He looks like a normal everyday guy but I duck my head pulling my hood down over my face more. He looks at me for a long time and then finally, slowly, acknowledges the car. He whistles and then proceeds to do his job. 

I glower at him not sure what is causing my body to be on high alert but I am ready to dash away in a heartbeat. I glance at my “uncle” and he has cleaned up a little where and how I don’t know but he cut his facial hair and changed his hairstyle. I watch as he ignores me to go talk to the tow truck guy about price. Anxiously I check for the bird and notice it’s sitting up. I wait until the tow truck driver looks at me and then they shake hands before dashing into the woods.

I pant gasping as I hear someone chasing me. I'm not sure who. I sprint in a big circle not caring about the plants and thorns since my jeans are pretty thick. I figure I have a better chance of losing whoever was tailing me and then stealing the tow truck as long as there wasn’t anyone staying behind to see if I came back. 

I make the mistake of finally glancing back. I see a flash of tusks and a pig snout and trip slamming into the ground face first and biting my tongue hard enough to make it bleed. 

I expected to feel tusks gore me the next second but rolling over arms up defensively I see that they’re taking the second, doubled over on their knees, to breathe. It’s the tow truck guy, he looks up and his soulless pig eyes make me shiver but whatever I saw before is gone. I start to scramble to my feet. 

“Calm down kid.” He grunts. “I’m not gonna kill ya, just take an arm or a leg.” He snorts at his joke, jaws opening to show inhuman teeth. I scream and throw a rock at him only for him to see the blood dribbling down my chin and go weirdly still. “On second thought…” He says and I get up, realizing very quickly that only adrenaline is keeping my body upright right now. 

I whimper in pain and he lunges for me again. I dodge putting a tree between us then limp as quickly as I can back towards the road. He’s still tired from the chase and so follows close enough to keep an eye on me but still catch his breath. I reach the road panting and desperate. My mouth tastes like iron. 

“Uncle!” I scream. ‘Maybe I can convince him to just steal the tow truck with me. He doesn't have any qualms about breaking things. Why should he honor this pig’s deal? I don’t know why he stuck with me this long. 

Was it really just to use me as a bargaining chip along the way?’ The pig or boar man comes out of the woods. 

“Okay, I’ve had enough of your games. Either give up and let us remove your arm, or I’m gonna tear it straight off!” He gestures violently, stalking forwards triumphantly now, “He said he wanted to make it less painful for you.” I’m exhausted. I hold my arms to my chest and back up slowly. 

“Well, w, wait then he hasn’t come back.” I stutter looking around, killing time. The boar follows suit and then starts laughing under his breath.