A/N: Been a while since I've had enough time to do one of these, and hopefully it's not too disappointing that I'm coming back this way, even if I only manage one day this month. :( Think it might just be my summer catching up with me.
Penname: kyla713
Creative Original or Derivative Fiction: Derivative
Rating/Warning(s): M
Disclaimer: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.
Prompt: Dialogue Flex: "Cowabunga, dude!"
"Cowbug doo!"
I heard it as clear as day as I stepped inside the door, though I could hardly believe it. Tears formed in my eyes as I dropped my coat to the floor, rushing down the hall toward the sound from the living room.
Edward sat crouched in the middle of the living room, his hands covering his mouth and my gaze joined his as he stared in shock at the dark-haired little boy sitting in the corner playing with his blocks. Our three year old son, Max, had not uttered a single word in over a year; through months of speech therapy and even having an appointment made with an audiologist by our pediatrician just the month before. When nothing more than grunts had emitted from him in all this time, we began to fear that something could be wrong with his hearing, although we'd always hoped that wasn't the case.
"Cowabunga, dude!" The voice from the television broke my daze and I looked to see the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoon displayed on the screen, before returning my gaze to my husband.
"Did he just…" I stammered as I pointed to Max and watched Edward nod slowly, as if still unable to believe it himself. "Sound. He's imitating sound."
A tear of relief spilled down my cheek and I made my way across the room, lifting Max into my arms and repeatedly kissing his cheek. He squirmed in my hold until I put him back down to play, and I moved to kneel in front of Edward and took his face into my hands.
"Baby, he's mimicking sound. Isn't that great?" I asked, confused by the ashen appearance of his face.
"I'm such an idiot."
x-x-x
"Mrs. Masen, I'm afraid I have to concur with your husband's suspicions," the tall blond doctor seated across from us stated and I felt my throat go dry, my heart seemingly freezing in my chest. "From the notes of the evaluation and my observation of Max today, I strongly feel that he does indeed have a form of autism."
I released a shaky breath, feeling more of the endless tears that I'd been unable to stop since that day in the living room, when I first heard that dreaded word leave Edward's lips. His chair suddenly dragged sharply across the hardwood floor as he stood, walking away from the desk with his hands in his hair, gripping it tightly at his neck.
My gaze slowly returned to the doctor and I swallowed hard, attempting to formulate my thoughts into words. "But… he was fine. As a baby, he was perfect. I don't understand…"
His compassionate blue eyes met mine as he leaned forward on his desk, folding his hands in front of him. "We don't know what causes it or brings it about. Some children show signs right away, others take years to develop recognizable symptoms. However, one thing I did notice about him today was his refrain from physical contact, even with the closest people to him, and particularly in an unfamiliar place."
"Well, he's been here before. He comes to see his dad all the time." I spoke quickly, feeling my hands begin to shake.
"But not in the company of a stranger, am I correct?"
"I should have known," a deep voice rumbled from by the door, his fist pounding it abruptly and causing both of us to look over at him. He slowly turned to face us and his green eyes were brimmed with tears, making them almost transparent. "I work with these kids every damn day. I'm a fucking psychologist! But yet, I can't see it in my own son?"
I stared in alarm at my husband's demeanor, my hand rising to cover my mouth. Not only had I not heard him swear so openly in public in as long as I could remember, but he'd always carried himself so collectedly as well. He was the strong one, my rock. The one thing I'd been leaning on this whole time. To watch him completely falling to pieces right in front of me was breaking my heart.
"Carlisle, how could I have been so fucking stupid? It's was right there in front of me, every single day," he spoke to his colleague as the man stood and walked toward him, placing his hand on his shoulder. "I should have seen it."
"You were too close, Edward. It's very difficult to detach yourself that much from your own child to see things objectively. You know that," Dr. Cullen replied calmly, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze and then looking back at me. "I'll give you two a moment. Max will be fine with Esme for a few more minutes, I'm quite positive."
With one last reassuring smile, he passed by Edward and walked out the door, leaving the two of us behind in a thick silence. I watched my husband as his eyes remained on the floor; his shoulders slumped with his hands shoved in his pockets. He'd never looked so defeated in all the years I'd known him, so completely devastated, even when I miscarried right before we conceived Max. When his eyes finally rose again to meet mine, his lips twitched with restrained emotion and it was then my heart completely shattered.
"I'm so sorry, baby," he released in a quiet sob and I quickly rose from the chair, closing the distance between us to wrap my arms around him and feeling his grip tightly around me.
It was my turn to be strong. To be the rock for the man I loved, and our little boy.
