Truth be told, the good doctor was a little bit riled. His heart was beating at an elevated rate, and he was sure his blood pressure was through the roof. He wasn't sure if he was overreacting; he'd come from a world where everyone he talked to was being openly tracked or hunted down by baggers and taggers. Here, things were different. Had he made the wrong call, and escalated the situation for no reason?

She seemed doubly nervous, and clammed up at his questions. He looked up from his spot at his desk to answer her. "It means that anything you tell me is private. I cannot tell others unless you want me to, or if you are about to commit a violent crime that I can stop with the information you give. I keep your secrets." He pulled out a folder, and placed it on the desk, opening it, and flipping through documents.

"If you tell me more I can get you set up with the right resources in order to help. Are you of age? It's okay if you are not and you are seeking protection."

She listened, watching his every move as if she would bolt the second she saw something she didn't like. He explained what it meant, and thought she had a hard time believing him... she really did want to. Believe him, that is. She wasn't too keen on just spilling her beans all over just because someone asked nicely.

"You promise?" She asked, voice quieter than it had been before. Was she gonna go out on a limb and trust him? She didn't even know him. Cripes, what had she gotten herself into?

"NO!" She was up on her feet in an instant, cup still gripped tightly in her hands. She didn't sound entirely frightened, possibly a little indignant and frustrated. "I don't want any resources! I don't need anyone's protection, i'm fine on my own!"

Her bottom lip trembled a little and she stared him down; small and skinny but so very opposed to what he was offering.

"If I tell you the truth, do you PROMISE not to tell anyone else? Pinky promise?"

This was good. She was beginning to accept the possibility of opening up to him. The most important thing in these circumstances was to establish trust. They were almost there.

"It's more than just a promise, Ms. It's a vow. An Oath. I cannot break it." He approached her, taking a step back when she suddenly spoke up on getting help. "Oh my... Well, we can address that down the line. For now... Why don't we just talk?"

He held out her hand for a pinky swear, and he looked down at it for a moment. Well. This was a first. If it would put her mind at ease, though, he would oblige. His chitinous pinky was soon looped in hers. "I promise. Cross my heart."

The pact was done and sealed. He was sworn to silence on the matter, and if he had any shred of decency in him at all she could trust that he would take her words with him to the grave.

"I really just wanted the free pie."

After a beat, she had the decency to look a little guilty and she plopped herself back down.

"I know I don't know a lotta stuff, like what big words mean and things... but I do fine on my own. Really." She sipped her water again to wet her throat and give herself a moment to think. "I ain't telling you my real name because my momma gave it to me when I was born and she musta loved me then. I only share it with people I really like. You can call me Tom though, because that is what I call myself all the time anyway."

Her stomach growled slightly, unable to contain itself anymore. "I like to try and get food the nice ways first, sos I don't have to make Mr. Rogers sad... I thought it would be easy as... well, pie, to slip in and out and have a full tummy with no one the wiser, but I guess I didn't really know what I was getting myself into."

Eisley laughed a little awkward laugh and rubbed at an eye that started to itch.

"I don't have no one after me or anything, and I stay away from the people out there that like to pick fights, so I really aren't looking for res...resourses... or anything. I had bad stuff happen the last time I looked for those an I don't wanna do that again."

She hoping she wasn't rambling, and that he understood her even though she struggled through a few words.

Flipping through the proper forms for restraining orders, protection from abuse, safehouse information, he paused when she spoke.
"I really just wanted the free pie."
He sat down.


"I know I don't know a lotta stuff, like what big words mean and things... but I do fine on my own. Really." He stared at her blankly. Had he a human face, his emotions might be discernible, but at this point only those most familiar with him would be able to read him, and they were in another reality. "I ain't telling you my real name because my momma gave it to me when I was born and she musta loved me then. I only share it with people I really like. You can call me Tom though, because that is what I call myself all the time anyway."

"Tom."

"I like to try and get food the nice ways first, sos I don't have to make Mr. Rogers sad... I thought it would be easy as... well, pie, to slip in and out and have a full tummy with no one the wiser, but I guess I didn't really know what I was getting myself into." He stared at her just a little longer before sighing deeply.

"I don't have no one after me or anything, and I stay away from the people out there that like to pick fights, so I really aren't looking for res...resourses... or anything. I had bad stuff happen the last time I looked for those an I don't wanna do that again."


She was rambling at this point. He held up a hand to interject. "Tom, I am Dr. Gregory Samson. It's wonderful to finally meet you. I must say, I am disappointed in your desire to come here for free food and drink. That is not an honest thing to do. I will not try to force anything on you. I know people who help those in your situation, but I understand trepidat... being cautious. You are your own person, and I intend to keep my promise not to tell anyone what I hear here... If I cannot convince you to seek help, though, I ask that you stay and talk a little while... About the stress of your day, about the dangers you face, about your hopes and dreams. We can get you some pie while you do, if that helps."

He stood, and walked over to the chair he'd been sitting at before, and placed a hand on the back of it, looking over to her.

"Would you be willing to do that, Tom?"

She waited and listened, anxiety buzzing just under her skin. Would he get mad at her? As he continued, her guilt grew in size. Especially when he pointed out her dishonesty from the get go. Eisley opened her mouth to try and defend herself, but a little voice at the back of her mind shushed her. He was right... she deserved the chiding.

The teens eyes grew round like saucers when the Dr. offered a compromise. If she stayed and talked with him she would get to have the pie still AND he still had to keep her secrets! Even if she had wanted to she wouldn't have been able too. "Really?! I can?? Even though I fibbed an all?"

She was virtually vibrating in her seat, excitement radiating out of her. "I can do that!"

Of course, now she had to put some thought into what it was he had asked of her, did she? What were her dreams? Did she hope for anything in particular?

"Oh! I didn't lie about your little hands and deelybobs though. I really do like them."

His antennae flitted about lightly as he listened to her reaction to his words.

"Yes. While I don't condone lying, I have no intention of ignoring the needs of a person in... Need." He shifted awkwardly, and then turned toward the exit, walking over to it, grabbing the handle, and turning back to her.

"I believe you, and thank you again."

He opened it and stepped out.

"I'll be back in a moment."

True to his word, he was back with pie in just a few minutes.

By the time he came back, she was just starting to doze off on the couch. It had been a while since she had last been allowed to linger in a climate controlled environment let alone on such a comfy chair. She'd let herself lean back now that her nerves had calmed down and a wave of exhaustion had hit her like a brick wall.

The moment he came back in she snapped out of it, sitting a little straighter on the couch and rubbing at he eyes. A few good slaps to the cheeks woke her up the rest of the way. She slid back to the edge of the couch and settled her hand in her lap politely, while angling tired, but focused eyes back on the Doctor.

You know, he was slightly surprised that virtually nothing had changed. She hadn't snooped, hadn't set anything on fire on accident... And she hadn't tried to escape.

Indeed, she only looked slightly sleepy, like she was past her nap time.

Goodness, this kid really was precious, wasn't she? He chuckled. "Tired? I thought of grabbing a slice, but after all of that work baking those pies I decided we had earned a whole one." He lifted the apple pie in his hands, and walked on in, careful not to spill any of the punch jug his more delicate little hands were holding. He set them all down on the table before the two seats.

"Tell me what you think, I fancy myself a bit of a pastry chef... As a hobby, of course. I find myself having to pass time more often than not. Believe it or not, giant talking bugs don't often have large waiting lists for therapy appointments." Perhaps he could go into phobia desensitization? He cut out a piece of pie, plated it, and passed it over.

"If you want to start by telling me what a day in your life is like, we can go from there."

A

WHOLE

GOSH DARN

PIE

He'd brought in a whole pie! Not a single slice! The whole thing! Eisley darn near slid of the couch in surprise, her eyes lighting up like someone had finally given her a Christmas gift.

Now, she wasn't pig headed enough to think that it was all for her. No, her new level of excitement was also brought upon by the notion that he would be joining her in eating said pie! And there was a whole jug of punch!

IT WAS LIKE THE TEA PARTIES SHE SAW ON TV!

Suddenly giggy with a ferocious level of pure joy, the girl could barely contain herself. Color finally crept into her cheeks. Light like sparkles of glitter popped to life in her eyes. She nearly looked like a whole new person- not a sullen, hungry thief looking for food.

"You cooked them? That's so coool! I can't cook at all. Papa used to cook every now and then, but he always burned everything."

He handed her a plate and she gingerly took it, raking in all of the golden browns and crispy bits, committing them to memory. With an eager nod Eisley dove in her for first bite, making sure not to take too much or too little... she wanted to savor every piece.

A moment of silent chewing followed as the awestruck expression on he face doubled in intensity. "It's sho gooood." She finally breathed, cupping the cheek that was full of delicious apple with her free hand.

She waited to reply to what he had said until her mouth was empty, so she wouldn't waste even a drop of pie. "That's not very nice of them. You should never judge someone cuza how they look. I've known plenty of normal looking people who are rotten on the inside." She dove in for a second bite and enjoyed it just as much as she had the first time.

Eventually she was ready to talk about herself. "Well... I dunno. Lesse. You gotta be careful where you sleep for one, you know? If you sleep in the wrong place good folks run into you, but if you sleep in the wrong places bad folks know where to find you."

She paused to plop a little wedge of apple in her mouth. "I know a lotta good places, so my day always starts with waking up. Then I go to find some kinda water so I can brush my teeth and stuff. Gotta do it twice a day!" Eisley grinned, and proof of her method were the clean white teeth in her mouth.

"Then I go to find like, a gym or something. A lot of places have free bathrooms you can use, and then you go find breakfast." She paused again, but this time it was because she had just reminded herself that somethings she needed to steal things.

"... A lot of the time you can find places that have food for you, but you have to get up really early to get in line and... a lot of bad people make sure to get in line first and scare other people away. So, sometimes you have to find other places that have food instead." She chose to skip over the how and moved on.

"Then I spent a lot of the day moving to the next place to sleep, and try to find things that I can sell for my savings along they way."

Her expression fell a little at that. "I do have to take things a lot, and I feel really bad about it. I know Mr. Rogers wouldn't be to happy with me... but I try to not take anything too important, you know?" It might have been lost on her that wedding rings were important to a majority of people.

"You also gotta keep an eye out on where you are while walking. I'm not a part of any of the families here because I don't wanna do what they do to keep living. So I have to avoid the places where they are."

She took another bite, a little calmer now. "That's it, really... I don't do much more than that usually."

The affect the presence of pie had on her was palpable. It was like she'd won the lottery; her eyes lit up and she had a glow about her that he hadn't thought possible when she walked it. "It appears that sometimes, Pie is enough." He chuckled to himself, Nodding at her question. "Indeed I did... Oh, is your father still around?"

He rubbed the back of his head in pleased embarrassment as she complemented his cooking. "Thank you. I cook to my own tastes, so its good to hear my tastes aren't bad!" He took a seat in his chair, a small plate with a small slice of pie on it in his little hands. "It's a shame more people don't think the way you do, tom. I learned very early on as well that, indeed, a book is not it's cover."

The idiom was spoken slightly different in this universe, wasn't it? Oh well, close enough.

He went silent once more when she started talking about what he quickly deduced was living life on the streets. Oh... He hadn't been sure her situation was so dire... Goodness, this poor girl. Everything was a struggle. Finding food, finding water, staying warm, staying clean. She had to fight for every single thing. They way she spoke about it was almost admirable. She wasn't saying these things to seek a reasonable pity from others, no, she was simply stating how her life was.

He resumed his pensive thought after she was done, speaking carefully. "Young lady... I... And you're sure you don't want any assistance?"

He shook it off real quick, and spoke again. "That all must be so... stressful. How do you de-stress? How do you cope?"

Eisley shook her head vehemently. There was no way, not even one, she was going down that route again! He changed topics though, so she didn't have to protest much.

"Stress?" The teen polished off the slice of pie on her place as she thought about his question. "Well... I play pretend a lot still, so that helps I guess. I don't have Mr. Unicorn here though. I dunno though. I don't have a whole lotta time to worry about stuff. You gotta keep moving all the time, or things will catch up to you that you don't wanna deal with."

She paused again and blinked. "Maybe that's all it is? I just don't deal with it?"

That head shake told him plenty... How could he best help her, then? He would have to be incremental... If she was going to get help, it would have to be her idea.

She told him about her penchant for pretending, and... Mr. Unicorn.

"How old are you, If I may ask?" He was beginning to think that there was no way she was the previously reported 18 years of age, which he honestly had a hard time believing in the first place.

"A healthy imagination and a security object can be helpful... I worry, though... There are different kind of stress, young lady. Namely, Distress, the type of stress that wears you down, and doesn't build you up. And eustress, the stress of growth... you know, the kind you feel when your stresses relate to a goal you have in mind. I fear that you mostly find yourself in a state of distress."

He set his pie to the side for a moment, taking a sip of his punch.

"I would normally recommend seeking ways to turn that distress into eustress, or to limit sources of distress. In your situation, though... Without removing yourself from the streets, that will be incredibly difficult. On a scale of one to ten, how often do you feel overwhelmed? One being never, ten being all of the time."

His question was one she heard often, but never had an answer for. She didn't know how old she was. Never had. Someone somewhere knew, but she had never bothered to find out seeing as it didn't really matter to her a whole lot.

"I dunno." She replied simply. "I can't remember if anyone's ever told me. Mama didn't really like talking to me much so she never told me either, and I didn't really think to ask before I left."

He sipped his punch, so she reached for hers. As he tried to explain the different kinds of stress, most of which went right over her head, she did her best to pay attention. There were a lot of big words in there, even with him trying to explain them. "I.. I dunno what overwhelmed means." She admitted plainly.

"I get stressed a lot like... when I have to lift something and I think someone might have seen. Or if someone's chasing me and I think they might catch up. Or, like... there's this boy who's got it out for me, so I gotta stay one step ahead of him all the time cuz he really doesn't like me at all."

She retreated a little into herself thinking about that. About all of the things she had to worry about all the time. "So, if it's anything like that, then probably a ten I guess?" She laughed suddenly. "Heck, I thought I was gonna die of fright just a little while ago when you were catching onto my fibbing."

She set her cup down, ignoring the urge to wipe her mouth on her sleeve. "But even with all of that I don't wanna go nowhere." She gripped her scarred wrist in her other hand, the reminder of how she'd gotten it still fresh in her mind.

"I don't wanna put myself in a place where anyone can ever hurt me again, and I know I won't hurt me so if I just stick with myself everything will be OK."

She... didn't know how old she was. That was... So sad. Was he about to discover hidden tear ducts? Nope, just a quick tap into the depths of despair he held deeply within himself.

Was she overwhelmed? How could she tell, she didn't know what overwhelmed meant. This was overwhelming. He was above whelmed right now.

He stared at her, his mandibles open in shock as she went on. Yes. Her life was incredibly stressful, what a surprise, but she didn't want to seek help because... reasons. He gathered she'd been taken advantage of, or hurt in the past. Still, she was stressed and in danger where she was, and felt that getting help would stress her and put her in danger. What then? Do nothing?

She shifted her focus to a scar... on her wrist. "Oh dear... What happened there?"