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It was the middle of summer and the bad kids were on a hike.
The hike had been a very last minute endeavor. Some kind of emergency up this mountain that they were tasked to deal with. They had prepared well enough, considering, with everyone having backpacks filled with food and water.
But it was still tiresome. The air was hot and sticky and so Adaine had shed her jacket to keep it tied around her waist, the trail continuously uphill and littered with rocks that they had to stumble over. All together an unpleasant experience but it should have only taken about an hour.
It should have. But already an hour and a half had passed and Gorgug had just called a stop, insisting they should take a break now.
"What, why?" Adaine flinched as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She could tell that her voice had taken on a whine to the tone, like she was a toddler begging for scraps. Biting the inside of her cheek hard to distract herself from the irritation running across her spine, Adaine used every ounce of self control to force her tone back into something manageable. "I thought we were only walking for an hour. Aren’t we almost there?"
Gorgug shrugged apologetically. "I know. But it's a lot more rocky than I thought. Gonna take us another half hour at least. Probably more. Sorry."
Adaine took in a deep breath. It was fine. It was fine, she was fine, everything was fine. She wasn't too tired, just a little sore, she could walk another half hour no problem. Certainly she had walked more through the nightmare forest, this little hike was nothing in comparison.
But she hadn't been planning on doing that and she was itchy and dirty and the sounds of crickets and animals in the folidge around them were just so loud. It was all so annoying and the annoyance pulled at Adaine's nerves like they were bursting with electricity.
Her leg bounced beyond her control, a useless attempt to get some of the building energy out of her body. Adaine stamped her foot to get it to stop and instnatly felt her ears go bright red as her friends glanced over at her.
They were all in this together, and it wasn't like Gorgug had meant to get the timing wrong. Who was she to be whining and stomping around while everyone else was also exhasted and irritated? She had to be better than that.
"Are you okay, Adaine?" Fig asked, and Adaine had to force herself to not snap.
"Yes, I'm alright," she said as evenly as possible. It was so hard. So hard to police her tone when there were a million other distractions. Adaine reached out and tugged at the tips of her hair to center herself. "Just... a little panicky but nothing I can't handle."
Fg’s eyes lingered on Adaine’s face, drifting slightly to regard the hair she was pulling on.
Adaine quickly stopped and clasped her hands behind her back instead. Was that too much? Usually when she got like this small amounts of pain helped distract her so she didn’t have an attack and tugging at her spit ends was undistruptive enough that her parents rarely scolded her for it.
But maybe it annoyed Fig. That was fine. Adaine dug her nails into the underside of her wrist behind her back. Everything was fine.
“Did you take your medicine today?” Fabian asked as he finished adjusting the pack on his back. “I almost left my eyepatch in my rush this morning.”
His voice was grating, for some reason. His accent digging into her ears and making her have to think too hard about what he was saying.
“Yes, I took my medicine,” Adaine reassured him, aware that she was standing completely stiff as she focused intently on just keeping her voice calm. She had taken her medicine, she remembered that clearly. And she wasn’t even breathing hard or feeling shaky or anything. Just irritated and buzzy in all the wrong ways.
In some ways this was worse than her usual attacks. At least with those she knew what she was dealing with and how to fight it. But when she got like this rythmic breathing only irritated her more and trying to calm herself felt like trying to convince someone the daggers jutting out of their sides wasn’t a big deal.
“Tell us if you need anymore breaks, okay?” Riz said, finishing his water and giving her a concerned look, “You’re a lot stronger now but if you start struggling to breathe up here it’s going to be really bad.”
Adaine gave him one sharp nod, not trusting herself to verbally respond to that. She wasn’t an idiot. They were up a mountain, in a lower altitude, of course if she started fucking hyperventilating it would be a problem.
Why was she even so upset? Riz was just looking out for her. There was no reason she should be so annoyed by his concern.
They started walking again and Adaine concentrated on digging her nails into her arm or biting her cheek. Knowing that if she didn’t she was going to start kicking at the rocks littering their path. The sun was beating down too hard, the screaming of insects was too loud, the wind was too harsh.
But she could do this. It was just another half an hour- or longer- and then they’d probably get into a fight and she’d be able to let out her frustration there. Just a little longer. Just a little-
Adaine tripped.
It wasn’t a bad trip. She didn’t twist her ankle or crash into the ground or anything. She just stumbled and hand to catch herself on a nearby tree, scrambling to get her feet back under her as she scraped her hands.
It was so. Fucking. Annoying .
Adaine let out a shout of frustration and kicked at the stone that had caused her to stumble, sending it hurtling back down the path.
“Are you okay?” Kristen asked, grabbing at Adaine’s arm to steady her.
“Get off of me!” Adaine yelled, jerking out of her grip and stumbling away. Everyone was really staring at her now. Gawking at how stupid and whiny she was. How were they all doing it? How were they staying calm when it was so bright and loud and tiring and and and- “Leave me alone.”
Adaine sunk to the ground, her arms curling around her head in an attempt to not let her friends see the frustrated tears leaking out her eyes.
She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her forehead into her knees. She knew she looked stupid and childish doing so, knew she was overreacting to things that were not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but if she didn’t curl into the tightest ball possible then she was certain she would just do something more foolish.
Hunkered out like this at least made the intensity of the sun less piercing, easing the pressure that wasn’t quite a headache but made her mind swim like her brain alone had been dunked underwater. She could hear her friends talking, distressed, but couldn’t muster the energy to piece together words from the sounds.
And then something soft and firm settled around her ears, blocking out the cacophony of noise and bringing sweet silence. There was a gentle tugging at her waist that Adaine didn’t- couldn’t- acknowledge and then a familiar weight settled around her shoulders. A familiar texture, a familiar comfort. Her jacket.
Adaine managed to remove her fingers from where they were digging into her scalp to pull the jacket tighter around her, clutching it so tight her hands began to ache.
She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, sitting in the dirt curled into a ball, but eventually the itchy irritation faded from her mind, soothed by the darkness and silence and warmth. Adaine manages to blink her eyes open and raise her head just enough to peek above her knees.
Her friends were no longer crowded around her, in fact, almost all of them weren’t in sight at all. The only one still with her was Fig, also sitting in the dirt and watching the leaves above them.
Fig seemed to notice Adaine’s looser posture and gave her a soft smile. “Hey, girl,” she said, her voice muffled by what Adaine now realized were Gorgug’s headphones over her ears, “how are you feeling?”
“Sorry,” Adaine said in response, much too exhausted to make her tone anything but flat, “panic attack. Thank you, um, for staying with me.”
“No problem, I told the others to go ahead to not crowd you,” Fig said, but her face was pinched, like there was something she was debating saying. And of course, because she was Fig, Adaine had to only wait a few seconds before she said it anyway. “Are you sure that was a panic attack?”
Adaine swallowed thickly as a jolt of nerves ran through her. This was Fig, not her parents, but… “I-I wasn’t making it up. I know it looks l was just being obnoxious and throwing a fit but I really couldn’t control it.”
“Whoa, hey,” Fig interrupted, holding her hands out but freezing before touching Adaine’s shoulder. Adaine leaned into it, silently letting Fig know she was good to be touched. “I’m not accusing you of faking it. That would be gross of me. But I just… it didn’t seem like your usual panic attacks, you know?”
Adaine shrugged helplessly, unsure what Fig wanted her to say. “I have different types. This version doesn’t get that intense, usually, so it’s easier to ignore than the… not breathing kind.”
Fig nodded to Adaine’s explanation but her expression didn’t change from that pinched, wanting to say something, look. “Right. For sure. But, I mean… look, sometimes something similar happens with Ayda. Lights are too bright, sounds are too loud, everything’s really irritating and grating?”
Adaine slowly nodded. That did sound exactly like what she had just experienced.
“Me and Ayda did some research,” Fig continued, “and we found out it’s something called an ‘autistic meltdown’.”
Adaine snorted and shook her head. “You shouldn’t use language like that so casually. Just because someone shows similar symptoms doesn’t mean they have a condition. Throwing around those words dilutes them from acknowledging when people are actually suffering.”
Fig leaned forward and used the back of her finger to wipe one of the stray tears that were still clinging to Adaine’s cheek. “You’re not suffering?”
“I’m not autistic.“
Fig paused, which was fair. Adaine had probably said that too fast, too aggressively. “I don’t want to, like, armchair diagnose you or anything but are… are you sure? Cause that was really similar to a meltdown and I was pretty sure you were getting a sensory overload so Gorgug gave you the headphones and the jacket is your comfort item and… Ayda said that when she met you she totally thought you two were on the same wavelength. And not just because you’re both divination wizards but having the same special interest probably helps and-“
“I can’t be autistic,” Adaine interrupted the pile of evidence Fig was laying out, a desperate edge coming to her voice.
Fig locked eyes with her, an intensity in her gaze that made Adaine immediately look away. “Why not?”
Adaine opened her mouth, closed it, and resisted the urge to start hitting herself again.
She knew why not.
Because her mother’s voice said autistic people were ugly and dumb and obnoxious. Because father insisted that it was just an excuse parents gave for not properly disciplining their children. Because Aelwyn would throw the word around like an insult whenever Adaine cried too easily or did too poorly on a test. Because Adaine was already mentally ill, did she really need to be defective as well?
But what horrible thoughts those were. What cruel ideas was Adaine having about one of her best friends. Ayda was autistic. And she was beautiful and extraordinary and perfect. She was not lesser in any way and here Adaine was indirectly thinking badly about her. Here Adaine was feeling her heart seize up at the idea she might be like Ayda.
How very much like her parents Adaine was.
Adaine did not realize she was crying until she was choking back a sob. “I-I’m so… I’m so sorry,” she hiccuped, trying to shake the cruel thoughts from her head.
Fig seemed to understand what she was thinking. She pulled Adaine into a hug and gently began stroking her hair. “Hey, hey, none of that. You don’t got to apologize.”
“I’m a horrible person,” Adaine whimpered, clutching desperately at her friend.
“No you’re not,” Fig insisted, “do we call Kristen terrible when she’s accidentally homophobic?”
Adaine shook her head, burying her face into the crook of Fig’s neck.
“Or do we say Fabian’s horrible when he does weird toxic masculinity stuff? Or when Riz spouts off some copaganda?”
Adaine sputtered out a half laugh and pulled away a little. “N-no.”
“Exactly.” Fig squeezed her arm. “We’re all unlearning messed up stuff. Rules don’t change for you.”
Adaine nodded her understanding to that as she slid Gorgug’s headphones off her head and slipping into her jacket proper, feeling much less annoyed with the general world around her. “I… right. I still feel guilty. There’s nothing wrong with being autistic.”
Fig nodded back as she sat up straighter, gripping her ankles. “And hey, maybe you aren’t at all. But I still think you should talk to Ayda about the possibility you might be. And your dad.”
Adaine sighed but agreed to those terms as the two of them climbed to their feet. If for no other reason than to get the echo of her parents’ opinions out of her head. “Thank you again, Fig. For… being understanding.” Spurred by her mixed up feelings Adaine threw her arms around Fig’s neck. “Love you.”
Fig hugged back. “Love you too.” Then she cleared her throat awkwardly and took a step back. “Uh, anyway, everyone else is probably worried about you. Race ya up the path?”
Adaine rolled her eyes at Fig’s continued hesitance at sincere affection. At least she didn’t just start sprinting off without any warning this time. “Sure.”
And the running felt nice.