I'm so sorry for the long wait for this chapter! It's a bit longer than usual, but I hope you enjoy it! Please read and review, I'd love to hear what you think! Thank you for all of your support! :)

...

The next day, Andrew insists that we go out shopping to get me new clothes since I'm feeling well enough.

"You really don't have to do this...it's not your responsibility..." I tell him quietly, even though I'm secretly hoping and excited to get new clothes and the things that I need. I want to have someone willingly provide them for me again rather than having to steal everything.

"I know that, but I want to," he says as he grabs the keys and we head out to the truck. "Besides, you can't live on my shrunken t-shirts forever." He winks and opens the passenger door for me as we go out, and I haul myself inside.

"Thank you..." I say quietly. He climbs in the driver's seat and starts the car. He then takes my hand in his and thumbs my palm gently, a gentle gesture. He's being so kind to me...

We take the rest of the ride in content silence to a big store and he parks the truck. He jumps out and comes over, opening the door for me like he always does. I nod my thanks and climb out, having to steady myself momentarily, but I'm okay. We walk into the store together and back to the clothing section. It smells clean and new in this store, neither of which I'm too used to after being in that Mog prison for months then on the road for a couple weeks.

He smiles when we stop. "Pick anything you want, kiddo," he says. I nod and start looking around.

There's so much to choose from... Andrew goes and sits down on a nearby bench and watches me. I walk around and start looking at the racks... I pick up a blue sweatshirt, a red V-neck shirt, a white t-shirt and a gray t-shirt, another pair of jeans, black yoga pants, gray sweatpants, other necessities...

I look up. Andrew is still watching me, and he's watching me intently. The notion makes me feel unsafe, and I feel suffocated. I don't want it. I don't like it.

I gulp. "I...I guess I'll go try these on," I tell him. He points to the dressing room, and I quickly follow the direction, go in, and slam the door behind me. I pace quickly, trying to keep my head on straight. He's just watching me...he won't ever take his eyes off of me...he's a doctor...he realizes I'm not normal...

I stop. This is a recipe for disaster, not to mention my downfall. I know what I have to do.

This marks my second attempt to run away.

I come up with my plan. I quickly change into my new clothes and leave my old ones behind in the dressing room. I check myself in the mirror, then I turn myself invisible, just like I did when I stole clothes from the store before. I slowly open the dressing room door, just enough for me to slip through, and I dart out without looking back. I quickly weave through people into one of the less crowded aisles and crouch down, curling up until I fit myself into the bottom shelf. I'll stay here until Andrew leaves, and then I'll be on my own again. No matter how attached I'm beginning to get, how much I want to feel safe and trust him, this is for the best. I have to be a realist and remember that, remember the war and the other Loric. I'm not a human and I never will be. My composure will stand for that.

I stay still and quiet. From a little bit away, I hear the door of my dressing room creak open, obviously by somebody's hand. A second later, I hear Andrew curse and slam the door in frustration. I feel guilty momentarily and my heart breaks, but this is for the best. It has to be for the best...

Suddenly, I feel the familiar tickle in my throat. The one that can mean only one thing; another coughing fit of pneumonia. I try to swallow it down, force it back, but the need is too strong. I instantly start coughing loudly and long, unable to stop. It appears to be my trademark, and it always conveniently occurs when I need to stay quiet.

I hear footsteps coming closer. "Maren...?" It's Andrew's voice. I quickly materialize in my spot so I don't seem suspicious, knowing that he's going to find me. I curl up tighter.

Soon enough, I see his feet and he bends down next to me. "Sweetheart..." he says, his voice sad, disappointed. "Come out of there."

He slowly helps me out, and I start to tremble in apprehension again, being caught now for nearly running away again and trying to steal. I look at him with wide eyes. "I'm sorry! I'm just scared, and I was trying to think, but you were just watching me like a hawk and...and..." Now he thinks I'm a criminal too. I'll add it to the list of things that are incriminating me of being someone I'm not.

"It's okay, Maren. Calm down." He sits down beside me and strokes my back.

"I...I'm so sorry...I don't like to steal, but I have to and...and..." I'm tripping over my words. "Please don't turn me in!"

"I'm not going to, sweetheart." He gently wraps his arms around me in a hug. I tremble in his grasp and I wrap my arms around him. When I do, I see, to my horror, that my hand has gone invisible without my initiation. Oh no. It's happening. My stress and anxiety are pulling my Legacies out of whack. I'm doomed.

He rubs my back carefully as I start to shake harder. "Shh..." he says. I clench my fist and hide it behind my back, but I'm trying to accept the comfort. I bite my lip. Get it together, Six...

Andrew pulls back and looks at me, frowning. "Maren, what are you hiding?" He indicates my hand behind my back.

"I can't tell you!" I tell him quickly. The realization dawns on me that he might think I'm stealing again. "But I'm not stealing, I promise!" No, no, no...

He looks at me, stern but soft. "Don't you lie to me, little lady," he says. "I believe you, but if I find out you've been lying, I won't be happy."

"I'm not lying!" I insist frantically. "I promise!" I tremble more and he slowly takes me in his arms.

"Shh..." he croons, holding tight to me. He's a bit startled seeing me this way, as if it were in a new light. I hold him back with my visible arm, but I start to panic. I can feel the visibility creeping up my arm. "Calm down," he implores of me when he senses my further anxiety.

"I'm trying..." I say sadly. And yet, my invisibility keeps crawling up my arm, unchecked and uncontrolled. But I have to hide it.

With my arm still behind my back, Andrew pulls me to my feet carefully. "Go back to the dressing room and get changed. We'll pay for your clothes and head home," he tells me. Hiding my arm as best as I can, I comply to his request hastily.

I shut the door and quickly undress, then I study the extent of my invisibility. It's reached about halfway up my forearm at this point, but it feels like it's slowly spreading, like pricks of a needle, one at a time, somehow drastic all the same. I quickly pull on the t-shirt that I wore today, one of Andrew's old and shrunken ones; it's not big enough to hide my arm, so I take another route and put my arms inside the shirt, as if I were holding it in a weird position to prevent pain. Once I do, I slip on my jeans and grab the rest of my clothes with my left arm, then I shuffle out of the dressing room to Andrew at the checkout. He pays for them without another word and we head out.

As we walk towards the familiar truck in the parking lot, Andrew glances at me curiously. "Is your arm okay?" he asks.

I nod stiffly. "I think I just...bent it wrong when I curled up. It's just sore. It feels better in this position."

He nods once and leaves it at that for now.

...

I look down at the bag of clothes at my feet, almost amazed that I'm back in this truck, trusting this near stranger's kindness yet again. "No...No one has ever really been kind to me this way before," I finally admit to him in a quiet voice as we drive down the winding back road, about halfway home already. my arm is still out of sight in my shirt.

"I could never understand why," he says.

"If only you knew..." I mutter. "You'd neglect me just like anybody else would..."

"I don't think I would." All of his responses are plain, as if they're solid fact. As if there's no question in his mind that he would never abandon me this way, no matter what the reason is.

"Everyone else would..." I say sadly, staring at my lap.

"Well, I'm not everyone else." I see him glance over at me briefly, but that's all. We're silent for a little while after that. Trees, hills, and rocky cliffs and slops roll past us in the distance as we drive. He takes my hand reassuringly in his again, just like he did earlier, and I suppose I'm grateful.

"What is that other room?" I ask finally, abruptly, though I don't mean for it to be. "The one down the hall from the room I'm sleeping in..."

He raises his eyebrows at me. "When were you in that room?" he asks skeptically, considering he never let me in there before.

"I woke up in the middle of the night and got a drink of water, and when I went back down the hall, I accidentally wandered in that room instead of my own because it was dark and I turned on the light," I explain to him. It's stretching the truth, considering I went in that room purposefully to see what it was, but the story should satisfy him enough to believe it was an accident that I went in.

"I see..." he says evenly. "It's something of a laboratory for me. In addition to being educated in medicine, I'm also educated in biology, so I'm a scientist of sorts on top of being a doctor. That's where I keep my own projects and other things from work."

My throat goes dry. Oh no...not only is he a doctor, he's a scientist. And I'm an intelligent life form from another planet. I'm the perfect specimen. And I'm right here in his very grasp. I have to get out. I have to.

Andrew gives me a worried look when I don't respond, but I'm stricken. He pulls over the car off on to the shoulder, not that it's busy anyway, and sighs. My stomach drops in terror. "Maren?" he asks softly.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Do you have a bad history with science and doctors?" he asks me. He must suspect it considering he realizes my body isn't normal on the inside. He must figure that I've been to doctors or scientists extensively. Maybe he even thinks that's why I ran away. My tension is almost tangible in the air as well, and he's too intuitive not to notice.

"No," I lie instantly. "No, I'm fine."

He frowns. "You're lying," he accuses me, though he's intending to be cautious.

"I'm not lying," I spit right back.

His eyes glance down at our hands. "Then why did you tense up so much? Why are you nearly trembling?" he asks me carefully.

I look at our hands in my own personal horror. I forgot that he was holding my hand... I try to pull mine away, but he doesn't let go; he knows that I want to get out of this, but he won't let me. He keeps his gaze locked on me. He's backing me into a corner again; it's the only way he knows that he can get answers out of me. I glare at him. "Is this some sort of a set up?" I ask dangerously.

He looks confused. "What?" he asks, his voice perplexed.

"Are you setting me up?" I ask again, a bit more forcefully. How could this be such a coincidence? A certified doctor and biologist finds a sick young teenager and takes her in, trying to heal her and discover who the mysterious girl really is while she's trying to hide what she truly is, an alien. All conveniently after she escaped the torturous prison she was in beforehand where they were out for her blood. It's too perfect. "You're after me too!"

Andrew looks astonished. "What on Earth are you talking about, Maren?"

"I'm talking about you setting me up!" I say angrily. "You're just another one of them, aren't you?!"

He's speechless for a second. "Maren, I really don't know what you're talking about...I...I..." He's as shocked as I am worked up. His eyes are lost, searching, clueless. Unless he's an exceptionally good liar, which thus far I don't suspect that he is, I don't think he could pull it off. He's not lying to me.

He doesn't know what I'm talking about at all. He's not lying to me. He's not with them. He's just...a human.

"I...I'm sorry..." I mutter, trying to make that sudden realization sink in. "I mean...I wasn't lying...I-I..."

Andrew stops me and he looks at me seriously but gently. "Maren..." he says, his voice a subtle warning for me not to lie again, especially now that my outburst has dug me into a deeper hole.

I start to tremble more and tears form in my eyes. I'm not weak, but right now, I feel much too vulnerable. "I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me!" I beg him, setting myself over the edge. "I'll do whatever you want for science, but please just don't hurt me!"

Andrew's eyes turn sad and he lifts the console between us. He moves closer to me and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. "Shh..." he whispers. "I'm not going to do anything to you, sweetheart."

I shake my head and rest it on his chest. "They always want to...no one in the world cares about me...I don't exist..." Tears pour from my eyes, streaking my cheeks.

"Shh..." Andrew whispers again, stroking my hair and rubbing my back, trying to soothe me through my apprehension. He rocks me slowly, but I'm just terrified and sad. I just want to feel safe for once in my life...

"I care about you..." he finally whispers to me as I calm down.

I sniff. "Why?" I ask quietly, looking up at him. "You don't know anything about me..."

He looks at me with his kind, gray-blue eyes. "I know that you're scared and need someone to love you."

I nod weakly against his chest. "There's no one left to care about me..."

"That's why I'm here, sweetheart," he says quietly. "You just have to trust me." He rubs my back carefully.

"I'm so afraid to trust.." I whisper. Why does he care about me so much?

"Just try," he implores carefully, seeing my unease. "I promise that you won't be disappointed."

I nod and stay quiet for a minute, trying to calm myself down... I have to see this all through... "Why do you care about me?" I finally ask, my voice soft. "I'm nothing."

"You're scared," he says. "And alone. And nobody deserves to be alone." I wrap my shaking arms around him when he says that and he strokes my hair. Maybe he truly does just want to help me... "I care about you a lot," he says. I know he's truthful, even though he truly has no reason to care. "You're okay now."

I sigh and nod, trying to regain myself. "Thank you..." I whisper, looking down. "I...I just want to be okay."

"I know, Maren. And you will be. I'll make sure of that." He pats my back.

I try to breathe deeply. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be," he says.

I sigh slowly. "Thank you."

He smiles and releases me, seeing as I'm okay now. He starts the car again and we pull off of the roadside, heading home. I breathe deeply again and feel a little bit calmer, but my arm remains invisible in my shirt. We head the rest of the way home in silence, something of an understanding now between us, and I feel almost a bit better. Only a bit...

As Andrew helps me out of the car, he and I are both cautious of my arm. "You know, maybe I should have a look at that when we get inside," he says. "I don't want you to be hurt."

"I'll be fine," I assure him as he sticks the key in the lock of the front door. "I'm sure it's nothing and it'll feel better in no time with some rest."

He frowns as we go inside. "But Maren-"

"Really, I'm fine," I assure him in a stony voice that I intend to settle the subject. "I'll be fine. I really just need rest right now. I'm too...apprehensive."
Andrew looks at me sadly, the way he usually does when I act so distant and on edge this way. "Okay, Maren. Rest well..." he says quietly. I head to my room and hear him sigh behind me, and guilt pangs in my chest slightly. We just reached something of an agreement of trust, and he doesn't want to jeopardize that now. Neither do I.

With that, I head into my room. Maybe if I sleep, the invisibility will go away. And if it doesn't, I'll just have to make do.

It's what I always do.