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The woman looked at the three of them rather seriously, clasping her hands together and keeping the same unassuming smile that she'd had when they'd entered the room on her face. She flashed it even brighter when Harry and Robin made it to her desk and sat down at the chairs provided. Her name was Alayna, which they already knew, given she'd been treating Doi for quite a while at this point, but they hadn't needed to enter her office for, similarly, quite a while, not since Doi had adjusted to going in without them. The result was that their being called in was much more intensely nerve-wracking, considering the implications. Robin's hand was still grasped in his, and it provided him with a familiar comfort in the face of… whatever this was. He took the middle seat, nudging Doi in greeting and smiling as the boy instinctively leaned into his side.
"Right! It's been a while since I've gotten to talk to you two— good to see both of you again!"
"Yes! thank you for everything, Alayna," Robin chatters as he settles into his chair.
"Oh, no need to thank me! I'm here to help, and besides, Doi's a lovely child. He talks a lot about you, of course. I hope all of you are adjusting alright after… everything."
Harry thinks about flashes of checkerboard floors, uncanny valleys and blood, blood, blood. "Yes, I… guess so."
Her eyebrows crease as she affixes her gaze onto him, and then to Robin. Damn it. He's being suspicious. "Well, you know I'm only one of many therapists around here. I just specialise in children. Our doors are always open should you decide you need a helping hand."
He has to suppress a flinch as he expects a Teacher to appear, before he remembers that in the real world, talking objects don't just pop up next to him if someone uses an idiom. "Yeah, we'll… think about it."
Robin squeezes his hand reassuringly as he takes the reins of the conversation, thank god. "Yes, we'll discuss it, of course. But about Doi…?"
"Of course, of course," she says, smiling as she lets the conversation segue away. "I actually have something to tell you about Doi that you two should know." They nod, signalling her to go on. Robin's grip gets tighter— anxiety.
"I'm sure you've noticed that Doi lags behind in class," Alayna says, gathering a few papers and presenting one of them before them. "His grades are rather low, which is expected, given he's gone through a traumatic experience and experienced parental neglect long before that. The fact that he's come this far is already amazing enough, really!" She gives Doi an encouraging smile, and he fidgets but smiles back.
"Over our time together, however, I've noticed a few other signs," she continues." Just little things— he bites his toys, specifically the plastic ones, he tends to rock in his chair or flap his hands when he's idle, he can't control his emotions very well… while some of these can be excused as the result of trauma, they don't align perfectly with what you'd expect. They actually seem to be typical signs of autism in children, in fact." She taps her thumbs softly on her clasped hands. "That is why I would like to recommend that we try and send him for an official diagnosis."
They blink at her.
"Um.. What's that mean?" Harry says, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"Right, I suppose you'll have some questions." Alayna pulls a pamphlet out from her desk, presenting it to them. "Autism is a developmental disability that affects how the person communicates and interacts with others. It makes it harder for them to navigate the world." Harry unfolds the paper, skimming through the text, and Robin leans over to read it with him. Basic symptoms cover a whole page, with graphics next to each point to illustrate them further. Repetitive movements or speech patterns, sensitivity to bright lights or loud noises, intense passion and fixation on certain interests…
"As you can see, the signs overlap a bit with trauma responses to his experience, but he's said that even when he was younger, he related to them," she says. "I'm sure this might be a little jarring, but it would be good if he got diagnosed sooner rather than later—"
"I'm sorry, but is this really a mental disorder? These seem like rather normal things," Robin interjects. "I mean, I do these all the time!"
"Yeah, so do I," Harry says as he flips to the other side. "I don't really see anything so unusual."
"I— what?" Alayna stops in her tracks, blinking once, then twice. "Really?"
"Yes! We all do these things. And we don't have…" Robin rechecks the title, "autism, so perhaps there's been a mistake? I don't mean to question your expertise, but I'm not seeing anything out of the blue to me."
"H—hold on, what do you mean by 'we all do these things', Robin?"
"We do! Bright lights are annoying, so we dim them at home."
"And people say I fidget quite a lot," Harry continues, gesturing to the point 'repetitive movements'.
"And I like butterflies!" Doi pipes in, and Harry nods with a quiet chuckle.
"So… yeah, we don't really get it?" he says, turning to Alayna. She looks at them, stunned and speechless. Adjusting her glasses, she leans forwards, balancing her chin on her hands.
"So you're saying that both of you… also relate to many of these symptoms?"
"Yes, because that's just normal." Robin says incredulously. "What are you getting at?"
She blinks again, opening, then closing her mouth. Harry turns to look at Robin, who seems just as confused as he feels. Absently, he scratches at his arm through his sweater, a mix of confusion and worry beginning to churn in his gut.
Alayna tilts her head as she considers her next move. She finds her words at last, sweeping her gaze over all three of them. "I… I don't know how to say this, you three, but these things aren't typical for most people."
"They… aren't?" Doi says in confusion.
"They aren't. I know, because I've treated plenty of people in my day, and for the most part they don't display these behaviours. And those who do tend to be on the spectrum."
"Huh?" Harry mutters.
"What I'm saying is that perhaps all of you should educate yourselves more about autism, and possibly consider going for a diagnosis yourselves, to figure out if you all are autistic, and if it’s not just Doi."
"Oh," Robin squawks. There's silence as this sinks in. "Hmm."
"This is… a very unique situation, I must admit," says Alayna as she rummages around in her drawers again, pulling out a different pamphlet. It has a more minimalist design, and reads 'Autism Spectrum Disorder in Adults'. "Here's one with a little more information." Wordlessly, Harry takes it, unfolding it and giving it a cursory glance. "I suggest you spend some time looking through both— for Doi and for yourselves."
"Okay," Harry breathes, glancing over the symptoms list and feeling uncomfortable at how easy it is to match it to his own life. "Th… thanks, Alayna. "
"The appointment's run over by five minutes," Robin says in sudden consternation, checking his watch.
"Oh, sorry for taking up your time," Harry rushes out apologetically, gathering the few things he brought and getting ready to leave.
"It's quite alright! I did just drop quite a bombshell," Alayna laughs, getting up from her seat. "Just remember to read the pamphlets— I can get you referrals to a psychologist if you feel like you need it. Take some time to let everything sink in, and maybe next session we can explore this further?"
"Yeah, okay," Harry says, his voice coloured with a smidge of uncertainty.
"We will, thank you," Robin responds, trying to smile. Alayna nods.
“Okay. So if that’s all, see you all next week. Doi, don’t forget your homework, okay?” Doi nods earnestly. They head out of the door in a bit of a rush, flustered at overrunning. Doi catches the crook of the arm Harry offers as they return to the waiting room. The door eases closed behind them.
"Well, then." Robin says unsteadily. He's clutching the pamphlets in one of his hands, and so Harry takes the other, bringing them to the reception counter to pay and exchange pleasantries with the kindly staff member who always lets Doi pick a sweet from her bowl— as always, Doi hunts a blackcurrant gummy from the bottom of the ceramic, popping it in his mouth quickly and throwing the wrapper into the bin near the entrance. Then it’s out through the glass double doors and into the car park, like they always do. The routine's comforting, a balm of familiarity to the disruption.
They make their way to the car easily, and Harry lets go of Robin's hand to buckle Doi into the booster seat in the back. He takes the wheel while Robin sinks into the front passenger seat with a pleased sigh. Doi stares out of the window as they navigate out onto the road, watching a landscape that was alive and bustling and really, truly lively. He could understand— it was amazing to be able to travel and see the myriad differences in the scenery from day to day. Perhaps they should schedule a trip somewhere during the holidays. He watches the road in front of them, autopilot taking over as he tosses what Alayna had said around in his thoughts.
As he drives, Robin shuffles the pamphlets and opens them in his lap, giving the one about adults a more thorough read. "Well, that does explain some things…"
Harry glances at him. Behind them, Doi is rubbing the edge of his overalls in repetitive motions, and while he'd brushed the action off in the past, now he can't help but compare. He hums absently as he turns back to the road. "Like what?"
Robin reads the pointer. "Emotional Dysregulation. Apparently one gets overwhelmed with emotion much more easily, or sometimes delays the emotional response completely until a later point. You and I seem to fit that sometimes. Like when you snapped at me the other day when I forgot to ask you ahead of time about doing the laundry."
"It wasn't scheduled in my head, I got all angry about nothing," Harry sighs. "Sorry, though."
"No, it's alright. Just an example." He shuffles the sheet again. "Or here— sensitivity to certain textures and smells. None of us can eat mashed potatoes.”
“It’s such a gross texture, how can anyone like it?” He catches Doi in the rearview mirror with his sketchbook, absently doodling something. As always, after they go out, he checks out of the conversation and entertains himself. It’s sweet, his humming to himself as he draws a bird on the page.
“That’s what I always thought!” chirps Robin. “But I suppose it does make more sense that we’re the ones against mashed potatoes, instead of everybody else lying about liking it.”
"Hmm. Yeah, I guess so. Though it's hard to imagine that," he murmurs, tearing his eyes away and taking a left. "It probably explains why my parents always said I was a picky eater."
"Mine said much the same," The other man muses. "Food for thought!"
Throughout the rest of the drive Harry lets Robin take over the bulk of the conversation— he's always found it hard to speak for so long without being awkward about it. Somehow, though, Robin always finds a way to do what he's never figured out. It ebbs and flows from a childhood anecdote to an old restaurant to some new kind of stationary, and by the time they turn into their street, their house a beacon of safety in the middle of the lane, it's about a lovely fountain pen that Robin wishes he had bought at the bookstore, but couldn't because of the price. Harry always likes these moments— he could listen to Robin talk about ink and clipboards all day, even if it's hardly a riveting topic of conversation.
Harry steers the car into the garage, the hum of the engine shuddering to a halt when he turns the ignition and ducks out. Robin follows suit, waiting for Doi to unbuckle his seatbelt and climb out of the booster seat as Harry stretches, grateful for the space after the cramped conditions inside the car. Doi gathers his toys and book, piling everything haphazardly in one arm as he holds Robin’s pocket in lieu of the older’s occupied hands. Harry locks the car, joining them to head inside. The light is set to dim when Harry flicks it on, and he feels his stress bleed out of him a little. The interior is plain, a light tan wallpaper covering the walls and cozy, functional furniture peppering the interior. It was a welcome difference from the House— while it had certainly been lushly decorated and brightly coloured, it had always felt like a set, a display piece covered in plastic that they weren't supposed to touch. In their home, he could feel the creases and tears and know that they were truly living there.
Doi and Robin go upstairs, and Harry lets out a yawn, leaning against the kitchen island for support. He hears Robin get Doi’s bath things ready, then the subsequent bubble of running water. The sound of Robin’s voice reminding him to pack his things afterwards echoes down the hall, followed by an affirmative from Doi. He sees his partner make his way back down the stairs, heading straight to him when he reaches the bottom.
"I'm beat," Robin sighs as they settle near the kitchen island to put away their things. "This whole situation was an ordeal and a half."
“Mmm,” Harry murmurs, voice more a rumble than a sound as Robin places their bags on the counter and just leans into him, for a while. “I guess that… I mean, what does this mean? It doesn't exactly change anything about how we live.”
“Yes, that’s what I was thinking,” Robin sighs. “I can see how it might help Doi, but isn’t it too late for us? It just feels like we’ve missed the boat.”
“Yeah, a little bit…” Harry runs a hand through his locs, trying to make life, everything, himself, feel less complicated. He slows as Robin looks up to press a gentle kiss on his chin.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to distress you.” Harry feels a faint smile creep onto his face despite everything. He shakes his head, enjoying the motion as he pulls himself out of the feeling.
“No, it’s okay. In the end, all we can do is research, I think. And hope some of it comes in useful for us.” He twists a stray loc in his hands as he muses. “I just wonder if… maybe therapy might help after all.”
“Really?” Robin peeks up. “I thought you said you didn't need it.”
“Yeah, but I… I thought things would get easier, and they haven’t, not really. And now all of this…” He huffs. “I want to feel… better. One day.”
“I’ll go too, then. I’ll be there with you.”
“Okay… okay, that sounds nice.” He exhales, long and weary. “And kind of a lot, right now.”
“A discussion for another time, then.” Robin smiles at him tenderly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "We'll get through this, darling."
Harry blinks, then breaks into a surprised chuckle. "That's a new one."
"Yes, I thought it sounded quite sweet. Plus, it’s nice to say. Darling. Darling. Do you like it?"
"Of course, you twat," Harry snorts. He swoops down and picks Robin up bridal-style, easily shouldering him in his arms. Robin squawks, half-heartedly struggling.
"Why are you carrying me, you stupid mop?!"
"What, can't I carry my partner if I want to?" Harry says, his usually monotonous voice turning teasing as he stoops a little to look closer at Robin. Robin lets out peals of laughter as he snuggles closer, a gorgeous blush spreading over his cheeks.
"I— I can walk…" he's cut off by a telltale yawn, and Harry can't suppress his laughter. "Oh, come on, it's the late afternoon! I've things to do! "
"It can wait, duckling." Hefting him up a little higher, Harry leaves no room for argument as they make their way up the stairs. "Let's just rest."
"Duckling… that one's sweet too…" Robin's already nodding off, and Harry plants a kiss on his forehead as they head upstairs to wash up and take a long, well-deserved nap. “I’m glad you're with me in all of this, darling.”
“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, love.”
They would sleep until almost dinnertime, and Robin would complain about back pain, and maybe Doi would sneak in from his room and curl into the crevice between them, and Harry wouldn’t have it any other way. Crises could be dealt with when they woke up ready to face them.