This was my challenge - to write an autism related piece for BBC Life on Mars UK as it'll be one of my first multi chapter layered fan fiction works, hope all my fans enjoy this!
However it contains attitudes from the 1960s-1980s on how autism was approached in those days from being kept at home with parents, segregated from mainstream schools, abuse from ignorant public and where special schools were nothing more than glammed up nurseries for people with additional needs and disabilities of all ages.
DI Gene Hunt watched his wife Michaela as she rocked a new born baby in her arms; the year was 1965 "He's everything," he whispered to her, earning a nod of agreement. The new parents looked at each other as Gene was promoted as one of the youngest Detective Inspectors at just twenty two of the Salford and Manchester Police force by his father figure guv'nor DCI Harry Woolf.
"Thank you!" she replied to her police officer husband breathing. Michaela cocked her hand, her voice still hoarse from screaming through labour in the mothers to be ward of the National Health Service, Manchester Royal Hospital. "For giving me a child. I know you were still on the fence due to your thankless demanding career, but you listened to me for the first time since we courted." she continued. Her warm smile indicated that she loved him dearly to the ends of the universe. Gene snuggled closely to his missus and enjoying everything he had before him - his financial status, flourishing through to Detective Inspector and colleagues/mates at Salford and Manchester Police.
And then a sudden flashy alarm bell made the young Manchurian detective rise to attention immediately: Did he really deserve a child of his very own?
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Two years later in 1967 it was a devastating Children's Pediatrician visit on the Child Development wing of the Manchester Royal Hospital. Gene and Michaela Hunt had become very concerned about their baby after his second birthday where he disliked interacting with other children and refusing to walk more frequently like he had at 6-12 months old. He hadn't strung any mini sentences together yet. They were worried about their neighbours finding out and would know their baby was developing differently from other children, sensing he's retard kid and one children would be warned not to play with in case the problem was catching. The parents didn't want the above scenario. The appointment was scheduled to begin at 9:30 am in the morning.
They weren't released until 3:00 pm in the afternoon, so thankfully Gene arranged a day's leave from Salford and Manchester Police, only letting DCI Harry Woolf know the secret reasons why; since his colleagues particularly DC Ray Carling would taunt him relentlessly shouting disablist remarks such as "Why don't you put your damaged child into one of those institution hospitals?" and the crude suggestions would only fly around the large CID room aisle desks burning like hotcakes.
After hearing the parents' complaints and concerns, the doctor wearing a white suit, stethoscope, a balding head of brown greying hair and black rimmed glasses took Gary Hunt into in-depth examination. Dr. Landon Prose observed the child play, eat (or rather refuse food), saw crying patterns and concentrated on how he separated from his parents. The diagnosis spelled pessimistic gloomy pictures and was seriously troubling. "Mr and Mrs Hunt," the doctor began slowly well schooled in his medical predictions. He turned his gaze down on dark purple flooring, where little Gary Hunt was lining up Dinky cars and knocking wooden coloured building blocks down. "I regret to inform you that your son has autism." DI Gene Hunt gasped as there was a formal but rarely used name to describe the activities Gary partakes in. Michaela's let the tears stream down as her aspirations and hopes for a normal baby were all disappeared in a poof and sobbed hysterically as she clung on to Gene's brown camel coat for support. "It fits the patterns of behaviour you described to me. I could see it in the flesh." the man went on sadly and shook his head.
"He doesn't eat unless spoon fed, screams when separated from his parental attachments, he consistently fidgets, doesn't create imaginative play and only babbles; of course there's also the tell tale symptoms..." Michaela sobbed when Dr. Prose notices building blocks strewn around the consultation room. Gene refused to let any tears fall, why should he as after all he is a hard nosed copper, banging the scum up into jail cells and the strong one for his little boy.
"How can we correct it?" urged Gene, but the doctor let the fate of what was to come drag out of his lips "There's simply no cure for this rare developmental disorder. I do know of one of my colleagues that is conducting neurological studies at one of the local special schools and I'm sure he'd love to give Gary his best efforts. He'll teach you how to work with your child. And not to mention this pioneering research will go on to benefit children born from years from now." the clever, high educated doctor explained. Gene's missus Michaela went spitting feathers in angry tears "I don't care about the children years from now! I want my baby to be normal, not a thick retard that will stay a toddler forever!"
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Just a few months later Gene was sat at his desk working overtime late one evening. It was his favourite thing as he didn't have to listen to her indoors moaning about doctor's appointments, no paperwork or police admin; arguments still continued. Suddenly the phone rang as Michaela couldn't deal with a nightly tantrum suddenly already starting.
Usually the parents took turns with the baby. Gene could hear the intense screaming and crying cutting through like a dentist drilling holes into sooty black rotten teeth. How could such a tiny child make a racket? It was a horribly familiar pattern since Gary awaken due to being separated from his parental units - he couldn't help it - it was autism. Every time that word crossed the sandy blonde Detective Inspector's mind, his perfect son was already dysfunctional and damaged, could Gary ever be fixed?
In fact the junior double of Gene was shrieking in his nursery as Michaela failed miserably to sing a lullaby, the tantrums getting increasingly bizarre as if nobody tried to help in the first place. "Is everything hunky dory? What the -"
"I'll tell 'ou what's going on, I can't listen to your kid's tantrums all night and day, I didn't want him to have all these subnormal behaviours like a spoilt twat! It's driving me crazy and insane!" flinging a red suitcase over the bed and swung a mink coat over her pyjamas, Gene leapt up to block the front door with his 6 ft 11 inch frame "Michaela!" he exclaimed "Stop this bloody nonsense woman, you're just overtired, now let the Gene Genie help."
"I want a divorce Gene, and... I'm never coming back!" Michaela Hunt demanded thinking their relationship had been on the rocks recently.
"Since our Gary was six months old. Before we knew he had this 'thing'. Gene, I didn't want a baby, you kept thinking of your little brother Stuart when he was a kid. I felt sorry for you, gave in and look at this abomination! This isn't a common condition, maybe if your little brother wasn't born... then maybe the baby would 'ave been normal!"
DI Gene Hunt was floored by emotions he couldn't understand, it hurt him worse than a villain punch up "My baby brother?" he whispered in disbelief "This is because of me?"
"Yes! You've passed on your little brother's neurological and mental disorder like the doctor said it was! And I didn't even want this child to begin with... Gene I demand a divorce, I'm done with this and I don't love you!" Michaela shouted tears streaming down her face as Gene couldn't convince his soon to be ex wife to change her mind.
Michaela headed for the front door stepping out with her red suitcase. "I'm going to my parents house, tell the brief to bring the divorce papers there." The blue door slammed shut. Gene couldn't think, what had happened? The shrieking sobs brought him back to reality; he was alone, his heart aching worse than the post mortem cases in the body identifying buildings. Gene ran towards the nursery, he snatched the wailing child out of his cot and hugged him tightly. Gary eventually stopped his tantrum at the sensation of being swayed back and forth - it was his favourite thing used to help him calm down. The small boy sucked his thumb. He reached up with his left hand and flexed it towards the cot bars. DI Gene Hunt shakily stood up and placed his baby into the brightly coloured cot. Little Gary let his eyes drift into sleep, he didn't know he wouldn't see his mother again or the fact his father was heartbroken. All Gary could perceive was the soft knitted blanket tucked over him, the cuddly rabbit he cherished and his little thumb stayed comfortably in his mouth.
The blonde haired young man reached down into the cot to touch his boy's soft cheek with his index finger "It's just you and me flamer," he whispered tearfully, hold on the Manc Lion actually crying tears of despair caught in his throat, but didn't let it show for Gary's sake. "I'm never going to leave you behind." Gene stood next to the cot for several hours, just watching little Gary Hunt sleep without a care in the world. Gene slept the entire night in the nursery as a token sign of his commitment on the pink carpet.