Chapter Text
“Where'd you get the kitty?”
Rich whips his head up, his fingers leaving the cat-shaped desk toy to dully bob its head like a drinking bird. He looks at Bruce, and hopes he doesn’t see the ten or so Lord of the Rings Wiki tabs open on his desktop.
“Oh, this thing here? He’s, uh, y’know, something I got from eBay, y’know? Cost nine bucks, I think” Rich mutters bumpily. Can he elaborate? At his old office, trying to clarify the reason why he always had certain objects in tow usually earned him certain looks, that either meant:
- “That explains a lot, I always thought he had something weird going on up there.”
- “Oh poor thing, bless his heart!”
Then again, Bruce doesn’t seem like he’d react especially strongly in either direction. He’d been completely fine with Rich declining his offer to watch the new launch, and it felt nice for someone to let him watch from a distance, to not lead him into what is cheering and bright and painful.
Well, here goes nothing.
“I have this therapist, Mrs. Rubens, and she recommended that I take fidgets with me to work so I feel more comfortable. Well, I call them fidgets, but she calls them stim toys”. Rich studies his coworkers face, waiting for the “gets it” look.
“They’re a very common tool for autistic people, like me, y’know? It’s like an anchor, I think. I can feel safe in a big place if I have something to bring me back to myself, which is nice.” He studies Bruce’s face again. There’s no shock, or pity, just a simple nod.
“The bobblehead’s name is Felix. Like the cartoon. Oh also, thank you for not gasping or smirking or hugging me when I told you that I’m, um, autistic.” Rich adds.
Bruce smiles like he’d just been given some spare change. “Of course, no problem dude.”
Rich smiles, and then realizes something.
“Is it already that obvious to everyone?”
Bruce hesitates, knowing that the answer is “yes”, but not knowing the most polite way to state this. Nobody at work says it out loud, because they know it’s not their business, but it’s a sort of unspoken rule that Rich has different needs. When his birthday had rolled around, Mindy had told everyone the same thing. “The party’s at 6 pm in the rec room, and there will be chips and refreshments. Oh also, please try to have volume control.”
Rich can see that Bruce is thinking of an answer, and beats him to it. “It’s okay if they do. I don’t really mind. I mean, I used to, but if it doesn’t get in anybody’s way, I guess it’s not a big deal.”
“Hey” Bruce interrupts. “You were never getting in anybody’s way to begin with. You’ve been a more valuable asset to the team than some of our most seasoned members” he says firmly but kindly.
Rich is surprised, and then smiles.
“Thank you”.
Bruce gives a thumbs up, and begins to walk in the direction of the printer. “Oh, but one thing…I can totally see those Lord of the Rings tabs on your computer. I love Legolas too, but Sanders is in a pretty sour mood today, and I don’t want him to chew you out, alright?”
Rich chuckles, and closes the tabs as he gets back to work and Bruce waves goodbye.
Mission accomplished.