The teenager looks at my horrified expression and snorts good naturedly, explaining what burping is and how to do it. 

I dig through one of the bags and find the disposal cloth that the ladies made me buy. It now makes a lot more sense. 

“You’ll want it a little lower.” He has me adjust it on my shoulder, gesturing with his hands chained behind his back. I’m tentative as I hold her but he softly encourages me through the whole process of patting her back until she lets out multiple little burps. “You're lucky she didn’t even spit-up on you.” 

He gives a pained smile once I put her back in her car seat, “Still you managed to keep her clean and content so you did a good job.” He stops and struggles to breathe for a second. 

I listen silently to his pained breathing. My uncle stares straight ahead while driving silent and emotionless as always. 

 ‘Why is the boar being so nice? I'd be more comfortable if he glared but he's genuinely kind. Is it just because of his sister?’ 

“I’m going to treat his wounds.” I say keeping my head down. To my surprise my uncle doesn’t even argue.

Part of me is hesitant. I'm a little scared of the teenager but I feel so bad that I grab the medkit.

“I’m sorry.” I say as the teen shivers. I look from him to my uncle and then whisper, “You don't have to deal with this forever he says he’ll abandon you on the side of the road once you’re no longer useful.” 

“Useful how?” He asks quietly.

“Experiments?” I spit with contempt. “Potions?” The boar looks far away frightened but then lifts his head searching my eyes carefully.

The psychopath huffs. “If he has anything more useful than infant care.” I look away feeling awful as the boar tries hard not to start crying again. The psychopath looks back with a cruel smirk and then shrugs, “Guess we’ll find out.”

I need to say something, lowering my voice, fiddling with my headphones, “I’m sorry again about your family.” I say. He takes a sharp breath in eyes immediately overflowing with tears. ‘I’m an idiot.’ 

The madman tenses as the baby starts crying.

The teen lets out the breath, holding his ribs as he leans forward checking on the seat straps in the baby carrier. Once content that she’s properly secured he speaks softly to her and I feel some tension leave my shoulders as his voice soothes me as well. Soon her eyes start fluttering and she falls asleep. 

My uncle says nothing but I can tell he’s paying attention hands relaxing on the steering wheel. 

I open the medkit and sigh, the pig turns to make it easier. His tense shoulders and shuddering breath remind me of how normal he is, anyone would be terrified in this situation.

I go through it. 

“Wait,” he says voice trembling. 

I look down at what looks like torture instruments and quickly explain myself, “I’m just going to clean up your mouth a little bit, it can’t be comfortable.” 

He looks at me for a long time so long I can see glimpses of his real face. A pig snout. Blood cakes around his nostrils. He winces away and I guess my staring made him uncomfortable. His human face is busted up too, black eye, bruised cheekbones, cuts here and there. I start pouring some water on a cloth to wet the old blood a little, making it easier to clean away. He scoots away from me and presses against the baggage stacked against the far door. I think of something to say to comfort him as he whimpers. 

“Come on, it's not gonna hurt that bad.”

“Your bracelet.” He grits his teeth tilting his head back from it. “It burns.” I look at the horribly plain metal bangle and then take it off with a swoop and toss it into the front seat. He looks at me in shock, laying back, slightly on his side, one knee up. Body language screaming he doesn't want me near him. Then another wave of pain goes through him and tilts his head back, groaning in pain. He throws me one last untrusting glance before going limp giving in. 

I scoot closer again with the medkit and he shrinks a little bit, eyes squinting shut as I press the wet cloth against his cheek. He relaxes a little when it doesn’t hurt that much.

My heart is racing. I'm not even near his mouth yet and when I look too long I see his snout and all his sharp teeth. It’s too easy to imagine him biting my hand. A reasonable fear I have acquired since I started assisting weird creatures. 

I glance at my uncle real quick and lower my voice so he can’t make out what I’m saying. 

“What do you mean my bracelet burns?”

His eye opens a crack, “You don’t know? He makes sure to match my volume. “It’s iron, everyone knows iron burns fae like me.” 

I mutter, “Fae?” Out loud and then soak the cloth a bit more and hold it against his eyebrow.

“I thought you were a gura…gura gach.”

“Gruagach?” He laughs, “Well I guess we are fae like him in a way but he’s more of a wild, long haired woodsman than a giant or ogre like some say.” He looks at my lost expression. “How come you don’t know any of this?” he nods to my uncle, “Didn’t he tell you?”

“He pretended to be my uncle and adopted me, he pulled me into this whole mess but is the only one keeping me alive.” I feel my voice shake in anger and his expression changes slightly. He sees the bruise on my wrist, I pull my sleeve down looking away. My face is still busted up, my lip obviously healing from a strike, bruises line my chin and jaw. Then messing with my bandaged hand I sigh and wet the cloth again.

“He hasn’t even told me what exactly is after us.” I continue to dab his wounds.

The boar looks off into the distance and then refocuses with a sharp wince and adjusts his position so he’s sitting up straighter. Which now made him eye to eye with me almost taller. He’s definitely taller than me standing.

All that’s left is his snout and mouth. 

“Can I have some water?” He whispers lowering his head to look up at me. 

I don’t know why he keeps doing that. Maybe it’s to seem less intimidating but when he looks up at me like that…it makes me feel weird. I shake my head a little, grabbing the water for him.

He tilts his head back, opening his mouth slightly. Again I freeze seeing horrible teeth under his cute human face. He seems to realize I’m scared. 

“Please.” He whimpers and I refocus. Flustered I stare for a second until I see his real mouth and then pour small amounts of water at a time letting him swallow in between pours. He doubles over a little bit to cough and then immediately regulates his breathing to tolerate the pain. I watch as he licks his bloody lips trying to clean them and his gums while I wait until he can sit up again.

“A, are your ribs broken?” I ask. 

He grimaces, “You tell me.” 

I hesitate and then lift his shirt.

“I think they’re pretty bruised.” 

He breathes strained and I see his softer looking boar belly fur before his human torso. 

I wince. ‘They might be broken’, dark splotchy bruises go up and down his sides where the psychopath kicked him. 

“They’re not broken, I made sure not to.” Uncle's voice makes me jump.

“Do we have anything for bruises?” I ask louder now that I’m aware the madman can hear. 

He doesn’t even look back saying, “Anything in the medkit is labeled.” I open a few other compartments and find a squeeze bottle half used. The boar struggles to get his shirt to stay up so quickly without looking too closely I pull it up over itself leaving it bunched up behind around neck. Examining the bottle for instructions I pop it open, I look at the bruise on my wrist briefly before squeezing a large amount into my good hand. 

“It might be cold.” I warn and before I can overthink, start applying the ointment to his right side.

“I sure hope so.” He grits, then twitches a little bit, hissing out through his teeth before relaxing again. 

I work quickly glad he's still wearing his coat but it's in the way a little. Slipping it off I know that I have a firm frown on my face as I don't really know what expression to make. I feel bad for him, I saved his life only to get him beaten and mutilated. Maybe I should have tried harder to get uncle to let him go. I'm aware I'm tearing up a bit. I curse softly, "Shit sorry." When he grunts obviously hurt because I was too rough. I look up and freeze he's in pain but my brain sees something else as he breathes heavily, teeth grit, turned away. I feel my face flushing. 

The madman slams on the brakes and the boar and I get flung. I fall back catching myself on the seats, the boar slams into me knocking a loud grunt out of me. Pinning me between the seat as I get wedged a little into the foot space. I stabilize him, looking away heart racing. He is so still and so quiet that I wonder if he’s fallen asleep. 

'Maybe it feels good and he doesn’t want to move.' I hate that thought. I don’t like touch and I shouldn’t blame him for slamming into me earlier or not wanting to move much because of the pain but I’m uncomfortable. I push him very gently to see if he’s awake. He makes a noise of acknowledgement and then proceeds to slide the rest of the way down so he’s half laying on my lap. 

I lift my free arm in dismay only to see that his back is covered in bruises as well. 

His head is turned away from me and he’s tense, “Just…give me a second.” He begs as he tries to get his legs underneath himself to move. I wait for a while and I can tell he’s suffering…a lot. I think slamming into me might have actually made him pass out for a second. 

“Sorry.” He says except instead of moving to get off of me he readjusts, rubbing his cheek against me. He presses his face into my side. I feel myself panic, going numb. I hesitate and look down only to see him shaking as he’s crying again. I don’t know if it’s from the pain, or stress, or maybe about his tusks. 

The position sucks though him laying down would make it easier to apply the ointment... I squeeze out more and then contemplate how to apply it with one arm being essentially pinned. I put down the bottle and lift my hand to my teeth fumbling with my bandages pulling them off. I look at the sad condition of my hand. Most of the bites were scabbed over by now then us it to continue to rub the tingly mixture into his bruised ribs.  He seems to relax, soothed by the repetitive movement.

I slowly look at the collar around his neck, then the chain going down his back as he strains to catch his breath. 'We're probably stuck while he's like this.' I look back at the front seat and reach out my hand, I need the key. The key which the man almost mokingly put on the armrest between us. Probably so the teen could see it but not do anything about it. I take it expecting my uncle to notice or grab my arm. I hold it tightly in my fist and I swear the madman knows. He usually reacts to every little movement I make and I was fumbling for it. 

Despite that I unlock the teenagers' wrists as silently as I could. He slips his hands to his sides and slowly lifts himself. I put my whole body into helping him up making me slip further down into the tight space. The second he can he sits up straight he turns around. Puttings his hands behind his back he glances over at my uncle then when I just stare at him mouths, “Don’t.” He clenches his teeth. “Just…it’ll be okay.”

I have to wiggle comically to get out of the wedged space. Finally free I still hesitate before reshackling his wrists. The boar leans forward pressing his chest against the baggage. I can see he’s feeling a little better now. “Is the medicine helping?” I ask and smile a little as he nods.

I lean forward touching his back gently before squirting more ointment on one of the bruises higher up towards his neck. 

He gasps, “Wait!” Turning his head. I lean in a little as he whispers so quietly I can barely hear, “my bristles are poisonous.” I jerk my hand back. He shifts and I see his boar form including the bristles on his shoulders, back of neck and back off the head.

“Please be careful,” he breathes, before relaxing again. I look at him knowing he didn’t have to warn me and why. I rub the ointment into one bruise after another and he begins to sigh feeling better with each one. 

I wish I didn’t stare at his human face and the little expressions he makes. His cute nose. His big black eyes that looked so sad and deeply into me begging me to protect him and his sister somehow. ‘How. How was I supposed to do this when I couldn’t even save a mouse half the time?’ 

“What about your wrist?” He asks me, opening his eyes, again way to kind for what he’s gone through. Looking as I put away the bottle. 

“It doesn’t really hurt and I want there to be leftovers to use on you later.” I say deadpan and then notice his confusion. 

He shifts to hide his flushed expression. “You could rub your wrist against my ribs.” 

I tilt my head and then show him as I wipe the lotion left on my hand against my wrist. “Happy?” 

He nods a little, closing his eyes. 

I’m assuming he wants to sleep so I pack up and crawl back into the front. My “uncle” holds the bracelet. I go to put it back on. And he moves it closer to him for a second. 

“You should be careful, he benefits and you suffer if he earns your trust.”

“That was cruel, you hurt him, you could have hurt me.”

“You didn’t shove him away from you though, and you stayed like that so long, seemed like you liked it.”

I glare at him before watching the winding road for a second. 

“He was too heavy.” I barely whisper, “I couldn’t even budge him.” I put my headphones on and turn my entire body away from him, 'He has no idea what thoughts that triggered.' I shudder closing my burning eyes because I know it’s going to be hours and hours of road. 

“Precaution.” The madman smiles. I look at him. “Plus I wanted to talk to you about him or more importantly what you two were whispering about.”

I sip on the drink and then rub the new scars on my hand, “Mostly bad mouthing you.” I joke. 

He laughs darkly, “I bet.”

He looks at my lip, it’s getting irritated again, then reaches back for the medkit and hands it to me. I pull down the mirror and then look into it as I apply medicine to it. He digs through the boxes' compartments until he finds a special bandaid. He reaches for my face and I flinch. 

Faster than I can process he reaches around the back of my neck pulling me forwards. I gasp.