The Zen Garden

Zack didn't see Charli again for a couple of days. It didn't surprise him; a new patient's first week on the ward was quite busy. Even after the initial intake, there was still a multitude of meetings to schedule and paperwork to fill out. Sweets had explained this during Zack's first week-everything had to be double and triple checked before it could be officially processed. Every "i" dotted and every "t" crossed. Admission to McKinley was not something to be taken lightly, and Zack's first week being institutionalized had taken it's toll on him.

Zack found comfort in the familiar. Even as a child, he had his routines and didn't stray from them. He sat in the same seat in every class throughout his entire school career. He completed his homework assignments in the same order every night. He ate mac and cheese quite often and enjoyed it every time (even if he had just had it the day before). Zack wondered sometimes if this was why Agent Booth found him odd. But he was learning gradually through his months of counseling that what others thought of him didn't matter. If it made sense to him or made him feel good, Sweets advised him to keep doing it (provided it wasn't illegal or against facility rules).

With that in mind, Zack made his way up to the outdoor space known as the "Zen Garden"-a private lush park on the ground next to the facility reserved for McKinley residents and staff.

Zack came to the garden often. He found it soothing. It was a beautiful space-about two acres in total-with white and light blue tables, chairs, and benches scattered throughout. Tall trees, flowering bushes, and various woodland creatures inhabited the garden. Hodgins had informed him there were close to 30 different types of flora and fauna present in the area. He made his way over to his favorite spot-a blue bench under the shade of what Hodgins had identified as a large dogwood tree sitting atop a hill overlooking a small pond down below. However, Zack was surprised to find his space already occupied by a head of black and red hair.

Zack shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot unsure how to proceed. He wanted to reclaim his spot but wasn't sure how to go about doing so. If he asked her to move, he feared she may leave, and he wasn't quite sure he wanted her to go. Sitting down next to her could be considered too direct. Luckily, Charli looked up as he approached and took pity on him.

"Hi Zack," she smiled brightly at him.

"She has a nice smile," he thought, impressed that she had remembered his name. Most of the other patients didn't, and the article she had spoken about during their first meeting only referred to him as Dr. Addy.

"Hello," he responded uneasily, eyes still locked on the bench. Charli followed his gaze.

"I'm in your spot, aren't I?"

Zack just nodded, embarrassed.

"Would you like to be alone?"

He shook his head, and Charli scooted over to make room for him. He hesitantly sat down, unsure how to proceed. He had so many questions and no idea where to start.

"How did you know I wanted to sit here?" he asked cautiously, hoping it was ok to ask that question.

"Your eyes never left the bench," she replied. "I took an educated guess. That, and you strike me as the kind of person who likes routine and order."

"I do enjoy those things," Zack replied. "But everyone except my mother and Dr. Brennan seem to find that irritating. My siblings used to give me quite a bit of grief about it."

Charli looked thoughtful.

"Do those things help you?"

Zack nodded.

"Yes, quite a bit."

"Then who cares what people think about it?"

The young scientist paused. He had never thought of it that way before.

"I suppose you have a point," Zack found himself repeating his words from their first meeting. "I always used to, but another person's opinion doesn't correlate to my relationship with routine. Or at least I haven't found any evidence to support that."

"Spoken like a true scientist," Charli laughed.

"I am a scientist," Zack replied.

"Yes, I remember," Charli smiled kindly at him.

What was that weird feeling in his stomach?

"So, tell me about yourself, Zack. If I were to guess you come from a large family, would I be right?"

"Yes, that's correct," the anthropologist replied. "I have three brothers and four sisters."

"And you're the youngest?"

"Yes," he responded. "How are you doing that? How do you know these things?"

Had she read his file? Talked to Sweets?

"Well, I don't know anything for sure," Charli responded. "I'm just making educated guesses based on what little I do know about you. The way you present yourself-even the way you approached me sitting on this bench-it says a lot about you. You're quiet and reserved-an indication you've either been pushed around and/or had to fight to be seen and heard. Common in families with lots of children. As for you being the youngest…well you appear to have difficulty advocating for yourself suggesting that someone else, such as a parent or an older sibling, has been advocating for you. Protecting you."

Zack was impressed she had gathered such a substantial amount of information about him in such a short period of time, and even more impressed that all of her guesses had been spot on.

"My siblings are quite a paradox," Zack responded. "Back home, if another kid was giving me a hard time, my siblings were the first to come to my defense. However, they themselves teased me almost daily."

"Siblings are like that," Charli agreed. "Somehow both your best friend and your worst enemy at the same time."

"They're not my friends," Zack paused. "Except for maybe my sister Gianna. She's child seven of eight. Being only a year and a half apart in age, we spent a lot of time together as children. I believe she fits the criteria for the advocate you mentioned."

"She protected you?"

"Yes," Zack nodded. "One time she was even suspended from school because of it. My hair had grown out and a bully said that I looked stupid and feminine. Gianna struck them. My mother was not pleased."

"I can imagine she wasn't," Charli mused.

"Do-do you have siblings?" Zack asked, a conversation with Angela from a few months prior coming back to him.

"Reciprocate," she had told him. "Making friends is more than just being nice to people; you have to take an interest in them as much as they are taking an interest in you."

For once, a social construct had made perfect sense to him. But, being where he was, he hadn't found anyone he wanted to try it out on until now.

Charli's smile faltered, and she shifted her gaze down towards the ground. She appeared haunted, yet somehow beautiful, Zack thought. He wasn't sure those two emotions were supposed to go together.

"I did," Charli answered softly. "I had a twin sister, but she…she passed away."

"I'm sorry," Zack replied. He didn't know how else to respond to that, but he wished there was something more he could do to help. Before he could say anything more, Sam approached to let Charli know it was time for her session with Dr. Sweets.

"Bye, Zack," Charli stood up but paused briefly before leaving. "And for the record, you don't look stupid. You're…cute."

She gave him a small wave, and made her way back down the hill, leaving Zack alone with his thoughts once more.