Nikto had been doing therapy for a good few months now though he wasn’t making much progress as he seen it as unnecessary and uncomfortable as well as a waste of his time so he rarely spoke.

Yes he was undercover for a while and only just returned, and yes he knows he’s scarred and hurt mentally and physically but he doesn’t believe he needs an overpayed asshole to tell him that.

The only reason he’s stayed for so long is because of you, his caring no nonsense therapist that tells him straight when he’s being an asshole, like today when he came in, yelling and throwing things because he didn’t want to be there and was physically forced into the room.

To which your only response was a calm; ‘Sit down, calm it. And shut up.’ Shockingly he listens and with a low growl plants his ass on the comfortable couch. “This is useless. We’re all broken” he mutters his accent thick as he eyes you darkly “you can’t fix me.”