I have a poll on my profile page asking a question I really want to have answered. I'm trying to get as many answers as I can, and very few people visit my profile. I've gotten literally one answer in a week, and that's sad. Please answer, and be honest about it.
I only own my OC's!
Diagnosis
Saturday, MAy 2
Carrier sticks her head into our door and wakes us up. Once we're all dressed in batman outfits, we head to the military base to see a psychologist. "Carrier—" I sigh up at her. "I haves that already…"
"I know, Mari, but we don't have any proof for this of that for this dimension." She sighs. "And apparently they're worried about all five of you."
"We're 'stalt, though…"
"I'm not looking at this as any problem. I'll still be treating you like I always do, but hopefully, we can get your teachers' to treat you better during school next year."
"But Star…and the twinlets…they're normal…right?"
"Sweetspark…" She crouches to me. "Normal for one species doesn't always mean normal for another. It's like…" She pauses for a moment. "Like, when a dog wags its tail, it's happy, but when a cat does, it's angry."
"Oh…" I smile. "So we're normal for bots, but we're not normal for humans…"
"Yes." She stands and holds the office door open for the five of us. As usual, I'm carrying D-Wave, and Bee's got Light, and we're both holding Star's hands between us. When we're in public, we feel like we have to hold onto each other so no one takes us—especially after our week on board the Nemesis without the twinlets.
Inside
We settle in a line on the chairs. A brown-haired woman walks over to us. "Hi. I'm Lieutenant Doctor Caroline Neilson, but you can call me Carol. I'll assume you're Ariel?"
"Yes, Ma'am." Carrier stands and takes my hand as I pick Dawn up again, and Bee does the same with Light.
She waves us all toward a chair in her office. I glance up at Carrier skeptically. "She's military, Sweetsparks."
"I am, and I've been briefed by Special Agent Fowler on the five of you." She nods to us with a smile. "Why don't you have a seat, Ariel, and we can talk about what may be going on with your children."
"Yes." She sits in the chair and hands her the papers I had given her before we came to this dimension. "These are the papers on the second oldest child. We'd like a confirmation for her, and checks on the other four."
She looks over the papers before glancing to me. "Everything seems to be in order for…Mari? What grade is she going into?"
Carrier smiles. "She, Claire, and Bailey are going into first. The babies are going into preschool."
She turns to where the five of us are cuddled together. "You like butterflies?" I nod and mime holding a doll. I love dollies. I hate it when strangers try to talk to me. They scare me.
Carrier smiles down at me. "My Mariposa."
"Can you tell me your favorite subject?" I shake my head before turning to hide my face in the pile, my pacifier in my mouth.
Caroline and slips a paper into a folder before glancing back to us. "I can get you a list of accommodations for the children. Have you thought of stim toys for her?"
"I've got a few things that seem to help her, so I've allowed the others the same comfort items."
"I understand." She flips through the papers one more time, then tucks them into a folder before handing it to Carrier. "I completely agree with the Asperger's diagnosis, with all five, and I would make it a point to learn about the condition. You never know when she'll get curious."
"I will. Thank you for your time."
We leave the office and head back to the base. "Go on down to the playground, you three. Jazz is down there with Blue and Lyric. I need to talk with your sire, and the twins are going down for a nap."
I smile up to her and nod before we start back for the equipment elevator. Once inside, I stick my pacifier into my mouth before nodding at my brother and sister, who decide to leave theirs out. I like having something in my mouth—I chew my fingers if I don't have something.
Lyric hangs upside-down over a bar and smiles at me. "Hi, Guys."
Bluestreak runs at us. "Mari!" I hug the mech before passing him on to my brother and sister.
"How'd i' go, Mari?"
I shrug before climbing onto a swing, while Star and Bee take the ones on either side of me. "Okay, I guess. Humans already thought I haved it, so I no cares that they says here too…"
"Haved what?"
"You was deres, Bwue. You knows."
He shrugs. "I know. What did you have—er—do you have?"
"Autism." Jazz raises an eyebrow ridge. "I's like squishy Pwowlies gwitch wifs Wed's gwitch, 'cepts I gots PTSD like Bwue too, so brover an' sis'er gots too…" Jazz looks even more confused. "Ach…" I hop off the swing. ~Stays put, guys…~ I step over to Jazz and look up at him. "Pwowlie haves troubles when fings no makey sense—I does too—'cept'n dis form I getta giggles—so bads I no breaves good an' needs 'haler." I shrug. "An' I ge' panicky lik'a Wed sometimes too, 'cause the feaw pawt of bwain is messded up wif autism. So I gots pwowlie's gwitch an' Wed's gwitch."
"Oh." Jazz sighs. "Ah assume ya Carrier's 'xplainin' everythin' to the others?"
"I finks so. Twinlets sweeping."
"Sweeping?"
I glare at Lyric and take out my binky. "Sleeping, Dummy."
"Mariposa."
"I wan' my binky!"
"Careful, Jazzy. Mari melts down real easy when we're off schedule."
"Worse than she used to when I was with her. You'd be surprised how many were just because someone didn't want to listen to her, or because—"
"Hushies." I clamp a hand over his mouth. "'Cause dey askey too much an' I hadda run 'way."
"That red moon—"
"Bwood moon."
"Blood moon—was freaky."
"I 'gwee." I turn to Bluestreak. "I sowwy, bu' you talkies too much…"
"It's all right. I know you have sensory problems."
Jazz cocks his head to the side. "Sensory problems? Prowler never—"
"Goes 'long with Autism. Some things jus' make you feels wrong an' you no likes i'. Likey me wifs creams. No likey. Dey's too 'noying an' sticky, an' Ratch hadda fin' oder ways gives me da me'cine." I shrug. "I no likey heights eider, an' dat's sensory too." Jazz still looks confused. "Likey when Pwowlie no likey has wings touchded."
Jazz nods, understanding this time. "So ya don' wan' us ta touch ya?"
I shake my head. "I's 'stalt. I needs touchies. They's on boff ends. I's on the end that needs touchies. Pwowlie on the end that no likey touchies. I finks I can get him let hugs, dough."
"Ah wouldn' bug 'im righ' now, Sweets."
"I knows. He busy wif Soundie, an' gots lot of works do." I blink. "I's still commander, so I's gotta do some sometimes too. Daddy no' mind dat I sparkle an' pway most times, bu' I make sure he know what we do when it matter—wike when Starlight help in field."
"She acted as Ciarra's second-in-command when we had the war in the old dimension. She was even there when my human dad got hurt."
I shrug. "I's jus' gotta helps peoples…I's a 'tectobot."
"Tecto—Ah. Protectobot, Sweets." He crouches to Star. "An' Ah 'member watchin' her do Prowler's job, Brightstar. She was really good—especially since Prowler an' I needed her help at the time too."
I shrug and give him a gentle smile. "I's jus' hel'ful sparkle."
"Tha' ya are, Mari. Tha' ya are." He runs a hand over my head before letting me run back to the swings. "Be careful over there, Lyre. Ya're gonna fall."
"No I won't, Sire!" The next thing you know, she's tumbling off the monkey bars and landing on her butt. "OW!"
I cover my mouth with my hands, trying not to giggle where she can hear me. "He tolded you, Lyre!"
"Oh ha ha, Mari." She stands, rubbing her butt. "Do I have a dent, Sire?"
"Nope. Ya don' have a den'." He lightly smacks her on the behind. "Bu' ya gotta be more careful, Lyre. Ya Carrier doesn' wan' ya ta ge' hur'."
