tate langdon: therapy

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tw: suicide
word count: 1311

still so sorry about my story getting taken down.
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"so, you don't think i'll ever be okay?" tate asked, tears welling up in his eyes.

"your condition is chronic, tate." ben said, flatly.

"but.."

"i'm sorry tate. there's really nothing more we can do except these sessions."

tate nodded, wiping his tears onto his sleeve and trying not to sob. he was so tired. so sick. so done.

last night was tate's suicide attempt. i didn't know though. my dad did. that was the suckiest part about my dad being tate's therapist.

"we can admit you."

"no..no." tate said, keeping his sleeves pushed up against his eyes. "i don't want that."

"okay. it's your decision."

ben heard his quiet sobs.

"we have a minute left, is there anything more i should know?"

"can i just go?"

"your free to go whenever tate."

he stood up and stories his tears, but they kept coming down. tate walked out of the office.

"hey, your done. wanna go to the beach?" i asked, coming down the stairs. usually after his sessions we wound hang out.

tate for some reason was walking out of the house rather then towards me.

"not today."

i scurried up to him and grabbed his arm lightly. he winced and pulled away, i still hadn't seen his face. i could hear sniffles though.

"hey, is everything alright?" i said, placing my hand on his cheek and seeing his tears and swollen lips from crying.

"it's just been a bad day. i'll call you later." he said, kissing me on the nose.

"tate-"

tate pulled his arm away and started walking away from the house. he was still sobbing as he did. i followed him though, i didn't want him to leave crying.

"you can talk to me."

he shook his head, sobbing.

"i-i'll call you." he sobbed, "but i have to go."

tate didn't want to stay because he didn't want to cry in front of anyone. he just wanted to be alone. which wasnt like him, usually if he was upset he loved being hugged and comforted by others.

i kissed him on the lips softly and held his cheeks in my hands.

"please call me."

he nodded, and started walking to his house just across from mine. i didn't want to see him go, but i knew that if he needed comfort he would most likely ask for it.

i went back inside, and my dad was sitting in his office writing notes.

"do you know why tate's crying?"

"y/n, you know that's confidential."

"i know. i just worry.." i said, looking down.

"look, i'll tell you one thing. you should probably check up on him."

my heart raced.

"okay, thanks dad."

i went upstairs to grab my phone.

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