#if i bang my head against a wall enough will it remove the autism | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

creacherkeeper · 6 years

Note

how the team (lance/may, etc) helped autistic bobbi develop better coping mechanisms instead of banging her head etc? :)

One Two

for @aosficnet2‘s disability december!

cw for head hitting being discussed

~1300 words

read on AO3

“Why do you do that?”

Bobbi startles out of her thoughts when the voice cutsthrough her quiet mumbling. The words take longer to process than the sounddoes, so she knows it’s May before she knows what she’s said. Bobbi twistsaround on the couch to face her, poised in the doorway in a way that looksbadass even in her pajamas and fuzzy winter socks.

“What?” Bobbi says, because it’s the first thing her braincan think to say, even though she’s understood the question by now.

May takes a few steps into the room so Bobbi doesn’t have tocrane her neck. “Tap your head like that.”

Bobbi gives a placid smile, fingers tanglingself-consciously in her lap. “Bad habit.”

“Doesn’t answer my question.”

May takes a seat on the chair facing the couch, obviouslyexpecting an answer. And she is Bobbi’s SO, so an answer is probably mandatory.

“Um …” Bobbi’s eyes dart from object to object in the room,partly thinking through her answer, partly for avoidance. “Hunter doesn’t likeit when I hit. So …”

“You hit your head a lot?”

She doesn’t mean to bite back so hard, “What are you goingto do if I say yes?”

She doesn’t mean the little streak of defiant anger thatflashes through her. She doesn’t mean to take the conversation so personally.But she’s been in this boat before, and she’s been left on the other side ofthe river enough times. She can’t help but be cautious. She can’t help but beangry.

“Nothing,” May says, and Bobbi wants to believe her.

This is May. She can believe her, right? Bobbi’s good atreading people. It took years of intense observation, but she’s good at it. Butsometimes it seems like, around her, all people want to do is lie.

Bobbi swallows, and looks down at her hands. “I try not to.I’m getting better at it. When I was a kid I’d hit my head on walls, but handsmake less noise. People are less likely to notice. But it upsets Hunter and …and I know it’s not good, I just …” She shrugs. “I try.”

“When do you do it?”

That makes Bobbi look up. She’s gotten the “why”. She’sgotten the “why” plenty of times. But the “when” is new to her.

Bobbi looks back down at her hands, pushing on her cuticleswith her thumb nail. “When I’m overwhelmed. When things are just—” She pushesout a short sigh. “-too much.”

“The pain …” May starts, and Bobbi’s shoulders tense, “ithelps you feel in control.”

Slowly, Bobbi nods. “Gives me something to focus on,” sheadds. “Just helps me feel calmer. Like you said, it’s the control. I can’tcontrol anything else that’s happening to me, but I can control that. It’s like… It’s like the need completely overwhelms me, sometimes. And I can’t even hearanything, or process anything else. It’s like this wave that comes over me, andthat’s the only thing that satiates it. I don’t feel okay again until I hit.Even though I know it’s bad, and I’m not supposed to. It’s just so hard not to.”

When Bobbi’s eyes eventually wander upwards, May looks deepin thought. She’s about to speak when May nods, says, “Okay”, and is out thedoor without another word.

Anxiety thrums inBobbi’s gut. She trusts May, of course she does, but talking about any aspectof her autism always makes her feel raw. Exposed. Her first SO, the one who hadpushed her to get diagnosed, had told her not to tell anyone else. And she’scome to realize that wasn’t the right move for her, but that instinct is stillthere. To lie and hide and not let anyone see it. See her.

Her hand comes up to her head without her even realizing it.She pulls it away, briefly twisting her fingers together, then biting down onher thumb until the urge to cry fades. When she’s sure it’s gone, she pulls herknees up, pushes her forehead into the bony caps, and hums as loud as she canuntil that drowns out everything her head is telling her.

“Here.”

The sound would have made Bobbi jump if her senses weren’ton high alert. She always becomes hyperaware of everything around her when she’sin the gym, getting in a good workout. Probably just fight or flight response.The extra adrenaline. In any case, she’d heard May’s distinctive footsteps fromall the way down the hall.

Bobbi catches the punching bag and guides it to a still,then towels the sweat off her forehead. She tosses the cloth over one shoulderas she turns around, giving the opened box a curious look.

“What’s this?”

May just holds the box out further, so Bobbi takes it andwanders over to the nearest bench. She removes the air cushions from the box asshe sits, and pulls out the item.

It’s a blue ball, about the size of her palm, with rubberspines covering it.

“It’s a massage ball,” May explains. “I figured it mightgive the same sort of sensory input as hitting for when you’re overwhelmed andyou need something, but there’s no chance of hurting yourself. It’ll leavemarks, but you’re not going to do any damage.”

Bobbi gives it an experimental squeeze, and then a tighterone. The pressure feels good against her palm, and it hurts a little, but not alot. She closes both her hands around it and pushes down as hard as she can.There’s a bite to it, digging into her palms. It’s nice.

“I love it,” Bobbi says honestly. “Thank you.”

May nods, staring passively down at Bobbi’s hands as sherolls the ball back and forth between them.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re going to get introuble if you talk to me about this stuff,” May says after a moment, and Bobbistills.

“Yeah,” she says.

“I know your old SO wasn’t great about it. But things aredifferent now.”

Bobbi nods, not looking at her.

“You don’t have to hide this anymore.”

“I feel like I do,” Bobbi admits on a breath.

“Not with me.” And then, after a moment, “Not with family.”

Bobbi’s eyes dart up to her face. Not meeting her eyes, butscraping over her jaw to see if it’s tensed, examining the set of her lips, seeingif her nostrils are flared. She looks calm. She looks like she means it.

Bobbi just nods, not sure what to say. Out on a mission, shealways has the right comment, knows just how to smile and laugh and make peoplethink exactly what she wants of her. But with people who know her, people whomatter … people she considers family … she’s lost more often than not. Sheknows how to play roles, but being honest leaves her on uneven footing.

May doesn’t seem to be expecting an answer, because she justgathers up the box and the packaging and leaves her with a, “Let me know how itis.”

Bobbi falters in the empty gym. It feels too quiet and tooloud.

She gives the ball one more tight squeeze before leaving iton the bench with her water bottle and towel. She squeezes her earbuds into herears, and turns on the sound of heavy rain. It’s just loud enough that she canbarely hear her fists as they connect with the punching bag, a steady one two, one two, one two.

Family, Bobbithinks. Her heart pounds.

One two. One two. Onetwo.

#aosficnet #aos #melinda may #bobbi morse #autistic bobbi #sorry this took so long!!#i have another disability prompt i've been neglecting because of finals #which i will try to get to soon #but people should feel free to send in more prompts! i will try to get to them #im done with school so i should have some free time #enjoy #Anonymous

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