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Doc's antennae perked up as they got to brass tacs. He sat silently as she spoke. His little chest hands fiddled about as he listened, and took in what she said. "Mm... Hiding avoids confrontation, then." She must have come from an environment that made such things essential skills. To be in a place where those skills were no longer necessary had to cause some dissonance.

"Would you like to make it a goal to not need to hide?" It was an innocent question, that a lot might hinge on. If she wasn't ready for it yet, that would be the goal. To get her to a place where she wanted to enact change in her life; one could not change behaviors if they didn't want to. Hiding was a coping mechanism for her. His goal was to replace it with more... healthy tools.

He noticed the tonal shift at the mention of outside. His head tilted a bit at the odd fact. Yes. She had a fear of falling into the sky. She'd been under water for sometime, right? This was likely a byproduct of that. She started speaking in fragmented terms, but he listened patiently and let her explain her thoughts. "There is a lot of outside. This is true. A lot can be scary. You know what can make things less scary, at least for me? Knowledge. When I am afraid of something, I learn more about it. For example... There is this thing called gravity, that keeps us all on the ground, safe and sound. It also makes things fall fast, like you said. That's why I wear hats!" He looked out from under their hidey hole for a moment out at the window.

"You know, though... I think the outside isn't as scary to you as being found, is it? Confrontation? You chose it over being found, did you not?"

There they were, under a table. Having met the young woman now it felt like this was the only way this could have gone. Based on her profile he'd built a vastly different mental construct of Kalos, though experience had long since taught him not to put much faith in preconceived notions, so he rolled with it.

She complimented his hand, and he nodded. "Yes, I quite like it. Many thing it strange, to wear such things, but the way I see it, anything I can put above my head can be my hat. In this instance, having added a table, my hat is even more fancy." His antennae waved against the bottom surface of the table, appreciating their new, larger sub-hat below their original cactus hat.

She spoke up about her places, and the gleaned what he could from it. She had ways of moving about this place without people knowing, and she preferred those over, say, taking the stairs. That made sense considering her prior situation. As she listed her prior spots that had been found, he listened until the end, regardless of how long it went. He had plenty of time today, and this establishment had plenty of money, not that he charged much for his services. He did this because he liked it.

When she was done listing, he tiled his head a bit. "Does it make a place less favorable when it is found?" He paused as someone opened the door, presumably still looking for the girl, and now seeing the doctor missing as well. He looked down to Kalos, and whispered. "Should we tell them we are here?"

This first meeting was about building trust. Without trust, respect, or understanding, something like this could not continue forward, and doing something as simple as announcing your presence to someone looking for you without asking first could break that trust quite easily.

Goodness, she was truly terrified wasn't she?! Like a soaked kitten being rescued from a swaying tree branch in a storm she clung to his arm, and then him as she worked her way in and up until she was formly koala'd up to him.

He patted her back comfortingly as she acted out the role of a shaved poodle in the cold. She stuttered out an almost explanation for her window dooring, he realized right then and there that this person was a treasure, and she was to be protected. His antenna stuck straight up, causing his potted cactus hat to stirr on his head as he slowly worked her onto the ground once more, gently removing her from his carapace, but allowing her to stay clung to an arm if she needed it.

"Excellent. Nice to meet you, Kalos." It felt a bit strange to offer a hand to shake after she'd already barnacled to him, but there he was, holding out a hand.

He paused when she asked about sitting under the table. "You may, but only if I can join you." Moments later, he was nestled between the legs of a table, his antenna inspecting the under tabley area gently, and his potted plant sitting atop the wooden surface, still technically over his head. In that way, it was still a hat.

"So... I take it you've had an interesting morning?"

The Doctor could tell she was starting to calm a bit. It was enough so that she could form thoughts not directly related to fight or flight.

He listened quietly to her as she spoke about things she liked, coping mechanisms that were honestly harmful. "You aren't alone in that... Many people use things like alcohol to help them cope. I applaud your decision to stop, and seek other things to help. Such things more often than not do more damage than good in the long run.

"A happy place doesn't have to be a thing, or place you know. It can be a self created setting. It's a sort of box you create that contains calming things. If you don't already have a setting you view as safe, you can make it now... It can vary greatly; I have heard of people choosing open fields, calm beaches, old musty studies... What ever appeals to you. Put something calming inside of that place to focus on. Like your cat."

He opened a little drawer next to him, and pulled out a little soft kerchief, setting it on the table before her, in case she wanted it.

"Your happy place is a tool you can use when you feel stressed out; you visit it briefly to refocus, or to calm yourself when you feel overwhelmed. Would you be willing to create such a thing here today?" He sympathized with her desire to escape, to not feel, to sleep.

"I know... This is common with depression and anxiety. I believe we should likely look into starting you on a low dose SSRI... An Anti-depressant. But I also believe that you would benefit greatly from regular therapy sessions. The goal would be to give you more tools to help yourself in your day to day struggles with anxiety... What do you think?"

He was getting through to her, finally. Panic attacks, for those who had them, where terrifying experiences. Many who had them without context were convinced they were having a heart attack, convinced they would die.

She was in the throes of one, but he could tell she was familiar with them. She reacted to being told she was in one; it was important to recognize it. That was the first step toward coming down from one. From there it was very individualized, but typically you slowed your breathing. You found an object to focus on. You limited the input your body was giving you.

He was guiding her through that. She spoke up, and he let her words settle for a moment before he spoke, calmly, slowly. "I understand. We can look into that. For now, let us address this. Do you have a happy place?"

He didn't miss her phasing through the table, though he thought perhaps it wasn't so important just this second. It was important not to point things like that out in the moment; coming down from an attack was about less, not more. He helped humans and mutants alike so he wasn't at all unfamiliar with people using their powers in front of him.

"A place where you take yourself in your mind to find peace?"

His head tilted a bit when she said she didn't know. He remained silent for a moment to let her gather her thoughts, and it started to come out.

She... Ran from stressers. Full sprint. That was amusing. He did not chuckle. She didn't like physical contact... To a great extent. Interesting. He tapped his pencil on the notebook a few times before standing and starting to make a pot of coffee.

"Often times an anxiety attack, as they are called, doesn't need a trigger in particular. You can be going about your business when all of a sudden, it hits. Anxiety as a whole, however... People usually have something in mind in relation to it. Some fear of a sort." He pressed brew on the coffee, and looked back.

"You're sure? I make a pot at a time if you change your mind." He leaned against the small table the coffee maker was on and spoke in a careful, measured tone.

"As I was saying... People, man kind, got to where it was today through a great ability to learn and retain. At a base level, this often means we can learn to be afraid of something, irrationally. Spiders are a common occurrence of irrational fear. Often a fear of spiders will be related to some experience early on in life that taught that person to fear them. Sometimes, isolating that incident and talking through it can help one reason against that fear." The coffee started draining into the carafe, and he turned back to it.

"Physical contact. We can start with that. Can you think back to an experience that might have taught you to fear physical contact?" He was asking her a question that had been nagging at his mind since she got here. The loose clothes, the fidgeting, the fear of non self initiated physicality. They were signs of a certain type of trauma. Then again, sometimes a loose hoodie was just a loose hoodie. He had to be sure.