The idea behind this was requested a long time ago by: @crxstxllxzxd. I'm sorry for the delay in my writing, hopefully you'll enjoy reading this. Also, I tried to make this a GenderNeutral!Reader (not requested along with this, but some comments made me realize that up until now I've always assumed a female gender so I wanted to try and include everyone, please tell me how I did and what I can improve in the future).
This part hasn't been proof read as thoroughly as most of my other works, so apologies in advance for potential spelling or grammar mistakes. Not sure how I feel about the plot.
Warnings: mention of depression, implied suicidal thoughts, failing treatment and a verbal fight (no language warning)
Please don't read this small series if any of the above might trigger you.
Also, if you're dealing with any mental health issues, it's okay to seek help. In the chapter titled 'suicide hotlines' of this book you can find a list of suicide crisis lines across the world.
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After the two of you had gotten over the initial first few bumps in your professional relationship, it felt like Zuko and you became closer and you started making progress with the boy. The biggest bump you had to take was convincing Zuko you were actually his therapist and not a patient in the facility.
'I'm your therapist, Zuko.'
'You must be joking', Zuko started, straightening himself up to show he was much taller than them in an attempt to look more intimidating, 'I have no clue as to why the hell you've been managing to walk around here without anyone taking you back to your holding cell, but I'm quite simply done with your insanity. What the hell is wrong with you and why are you here?'
Mirroring his posture, Y/N smiled softly at him, 'my name is Y/N L/N. I'm the only child of F/N and M/N, the owners of this building.'
Zuko only believed you after you had shown him several graduation papers and your keycard which definitely held a picture of you and said you were fully authorized to walk around the entire building due to your status. This by itself had taken two sessions.
After that Y/N had to figure out a suitable treatment for the boy. One that would help him talk about his thoughts, while in the process teach him how to cope in better ways. Or eventually. Settling on the foundation of a professional relationship starting with trust and bonding, she figured they'd just start to get to know one another over the course of about two to three sessions.
However, as the couple repetitively met in her office, Y/N quickly realized the boy didn't enjoy the stuffy room and eventually one day after watching him stare longingly out of her window, she suggested taking a walk in the park together.
It was the beginning of a time where Zuko would open up more to Y/N and talk about things he enjoyed doing, even if the list often was limited or consisted of things they were doing right in that moment. "I like feeding young animals", as they were feeding little ducklings. "It's nice to relax like this." "I like exploring."
Little did Y/N know that whatever Zuko told her during these trips to the park, were nowhere close to an image of what really went on in the boy's head. Zuko liked it that way though. Ever since the time you two had left your stuffy office, he had enjoyed going out with you. Going out because in his mind he wasn't taking therapy sessions with this beautiful person. Zuko had decided that therapy would be called going on a date, because essentially this gave him something to look forward to every week.
He knew it was stupid and it would eventually come back to bite him hard. But at the time it seemed like a great idea to look at you in a way more than just his therapist. If he was honest with himself, Zuko knew you didn't feel the same way for him as he did for you. How could you, being his therapist with him as his patient to treat? Deep down he knew he cared about this little fact, but for now it was much easier to ignore these facts. He couldn't deal with them too. It was hard enough trying to survive every day.
Pretend dates with Y/N were a way of coping for Zuko. A way of getting through these stupid therapy sessions he didn't want to attend and instead finding himself something to look forward to every week. Zuko wished to believe you cared for him, so much, and part of him actually did because each time he thought of that pretty face his heart would skip a beat.
It wasn't too difficult to pretend. Honestly, he could usually imagine you as just this lovely date he'd go out with rather than seeing his therapist. It was mostly the moments when his mother mentioned it, that he struggled.
"How's your therapy going, Zuko?" – "Fine, mom."
"Are you still having those thoughts?" – Yes. "No."
"Excited to go to therapy again, honey?" – Date. "Always, mom."
His mother would always smile at these comments. This, aside from all the lies he'd tell her, made Zuko's stomach turn. He really wanted to make her happy, wanted her to live in her ideal fantasy world where she had a loving husband and a perfect son. So he pretended.
As summer progressed and turned into autumn, the chances of the therapy sessions taking place outside became smaller. Along with the change of weather, came a change in character.
Zuko hated being in your little office, he couldn't hide from your piercing [E/C] eyes whenever you asked him a question he'd like to avoid. He couldn't come up with random comments on the trees, or the flowers whenever it suited him. And for the first time the realization of therapy being therapy sunk in.
You noticed the change in behavior, Zuko became quieter, less involved and seemed less responsive to things you said or indoor activities you suggested. You'd figured out he liked to draw, but whenever you suggested the two of you would do something creative along those lines he was quick to shut you down. On the rare occasions that he did accept, he usually didn't create more than a few lines and shrugged whenever you tried to make it part of an actual conversation. This in itself was incredibly frustrating.
As the weeks progressed you were slowly starting to realize you had made absolutely no progress whatsoever since Zuko had started his therapy with you. At the beginning you had refused to admit this, let alone believe it. Your therapy sessions in the summer had been incredibly helpful right? The two of you often had a great time and he seemed to smile more when he was with you.
But as November rolled around you realized you were often waiting for him on the edge of your seat, afraid you wouldn't see the sweet, broken boy come in anymore. As your eyes kept wondering to the clock, your hands tapping on the surface of your desk and your mind racking over any new possibilities to make today a success, you realized you had grown more attached to him than you should've as his therapist.
The day you realized you had feelings for him, you weren't as relieved to see him walk through your office door as you usually would've. Your mind was still too occupied with these new thoughts, too aware of your sweaty palms, increased breathing and racing heart.
You were so distracted that day, you didn't see the signs until halfway through the session. His eyes were rimmed red and his lips bitten raw, his hands fumbled with his hair more than usual and his eyes kept moving in every direction.
Shaking yourself out of your own thoughts, you realized this couldn't go on much longer, 'Zuko.'
The mention of his name made him look up from their death stare at his lap, he had been somewhat glad the usual conversation that filled the office was non-existent up until now, but the moment you called his name his heartbeat sped up.
'I'm not going to ask you if you're fine cause I can clearly see you're not, so please. Talk to me, I'm here to help you.'
He shrugged, sighed and looked through your window where it was raining. 'Talking doesn't help.'
'Then what does?'
Silence.
You got up from your seat and gently made your way over to where he was sitting, trying to keep your distance while at the same time getting a closer look at his facial expression. His jaw was clenched and his eyes focused on something in the distance. You weren't sure if he was angry or upset, or both.
'Zuko?', you spoke softly, almost like you would to a hurt animal, 'please tell me what does help you. I care about you.'
Everything happened fast after that, he shot up out of his usual spot on the beanbag towering over you, his fists clenched at his sides while his eyes shot daggers at you. 'You. Don't. Get. To. Say. That.', he spat with so much venom each word could've burned you on the spot.
'But I do.'
'No you don't!', he was yelling this time, his self-control slowly slipping, 'you don't care about me. You're my therapist and I absolutely hate it. Each and every week I come here pretending this is a date, but each week is just a therapy session and it hurts, okay?!' He paused enough to breath as he stood in front of the door, 'I can't anymore, I don't want to be your stupid pity project, Y/N. Goodbye.'