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It was one of the days Sam had screwed up.

At least that was what his foster parents had said. He wasn’t sure what exactly what he did wrong, but as usual he tried to stay out of their way instead taking “being sent to bed without dinner” on the chin.

Most kids snuck out of the house at fifteen anyway.

Most kids wouldn’t do it quite as late, of course. But Sam liked the night, most spirits tended to come out at night and it felt far less lonely. Tonight he saw a few lingering around but none who may have been friendly or wanted to interact.

He instead focused on the best strategy for sneaking something to eat. Without money he may have seemed a little shifty hanging out outside McDonalds but still… He stood a long time and thought for a long moment….

But he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t ask for food, or dumpster dive. He did have some pride! “C’Mon Monty,” he whispered to the unseen dog spirit that followed him. “There’s gotta be something easier.” As he began to walk away.

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King was on his way back from the hardware store for what had to have been the third time this week. First, he had two wobbly tables that customers kept complaining about, then, one of his bed frames was dented-King did not ask questions as to why-and now, the veneer on one side of the bar was coming up. People always seemed to glamourize owning and running your own business, but they never talk about all the work that goes into it and how it is really just a jenga tower of stuff going wrong that you hope you can maintain it without causing the damn thing to topple over.

The truck engine purred as he came to the stoplight next to the McDonald's. While he was waiting for the red light, which seemed to be taking its own sweet time, he glanced over at the fast food joint, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song he was listening to. There was this kid standing outside and he had a look about him that made King look twice. A lot of the people he interacted with on a daily basis had a similar look. Lost. Lonely. Hungry. Out of place. King wondered if the kid was one of his people. He wondered if the boy needed help.

Honk! Honk, Honk! The tiny two door sedan behind him was laying on the horn to get his attention and make him drive since the light had turned green. King rolled his eyes and turned his signal on, turning into the parking lot instead of going straight. "Asshole," the driver yelled as he whipped past as soon as King's big ass truck was out of the way. Of course, King did not feel the slightest bit guilty. There was no need to be so rude, no matter what kind of hurry you were in.

Pulling into a parking spot, King observed the kid for a moment. He could not have been more than a teenager, probably in his mid teens at that. Sighing, he knew that he was just delaying the inevitable by studying the kid. King had made up his mind to help him the moment he had turned into the parking lot instead of going back to the Haven. Generally, he did not invite a stranger back to the sanctuary unless he knew for a fact that he was one of their people, but this was a kid, barely more than a boy.

It was now or never, the kid was starting to leave. Putting his truck back in gear, he pulled up next to him, rolling down the window. "Hey, kid," he said, in his somewhat gruff voice, "Are you all right? You're not lost, are you?" King was wary of coming on too strong. The last thing he needed was to get arrested for appearing to lure a minor into his truck. If the kid did not need help, he would be more than happy to go home and fix the veneer on the bar.

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Sam wasn’t startled.

He wasn’t the type that got startled easily - it came from living with spirits, he guessed. Though he was a bit startled to have an adult acknowledge him, to say the least. Most adults he learned liked to look the other way - not that he blamed them. Most probably had their own kids to worry about.

Monty didn’t seem to growl or act aggressive though. Which was usually the case when he ran into… Seedier figures. So he guessed that interacting wasn’t a bad idea.

So instead of ignoring him, he decided to play it off cool. Or tried to. “Nah, not lost. Just forgot my wallet at home,” it wasn’t a total lie since he didn’t have cash. But it didn’t make him look stupid or weird either. “My foster parents just work hella late, so it’s more of a pain in the butt.”

Ok that last part was a lie. But oh well, no one said he couldn’t tell one if he wanted to.

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King sensed that maybe the kid was not telling the whole truth, but he did not push the subject. Loathe, though he was, to allow anyone to eat McDonald's food, he thought it would probably be weird if he invited the kid back to the Haven for a real meal. Besides, he did not know thing one about this kid other than the look of quiet resignation written not just on his face, but in the way he carried himself. He was too young to have experienced the kind of indifference, or maybe worse, that his posture and tone conveyed.

"You shouldn't have to wait," King replied, "I'm sure they wouldn't want you waiting around being hungry 'til they got home. How about we go inside and I pay for whatever you want to eat." Maybe that would be less weird than anything else he could offer. "Honest, if you're uneasy though, I'd be willing to part with a ten spot if I thought it meant you'd fill your belly." King's truck was still rumbling low as it idled and he considered turning it off, but thought he should probably wait for the kid to reply first.

If he just took the cash, whatever. Ten bucks was not going to break King and there was not a whole lot of trouble the kid could get into with just ten dollars. If he agreed to let King treat him to whatever he wanted-and he honestly would buy the kid the whole McDonald's menu if he asked-then maybe King could figure out if he was all right.