Stimming - Sherlock
“Are there any other details about the night of the disappearance you can remember?” John asks. When you hesitate, he adds, “even the smallest thing may prove to be of greatest help.”
You rack your brain for any information you may have missed. You come up empty, but you can’t shake the nagging feeling in the edge of your mind that you’re missing something.
The longer you think, the more anxious you get. You start tapping your thigh in a nervous rhythm. Calm, grounded, predictable, safe. Sherlock, up until this point has been gazing out the window; he is clearly listening, but disinterested. Now the intensity of his gaze trains itself on you and the motion of your fingers. He watches the pattern for a few moments before you force yourself to stop moving. Sherlock focuses back on the window and you breathe a subtle sigh of relief. You still can’t remember anything else, but at least the consulting detective is no longer staring at you.
A few minutes, and another offer for a cup of tea, pass before your brain comes back online. This time, you don’t even register your body’s movements as the ring on your finger begins to spin. You’re too caught up in the excitement of the fact that you finally remembered a semi-decent description of the kidnapper. You also don’t notice until it is far too late that you’ve attracted Sherlock’s attention again. Only when you’ve finished your recounting of details do you realise why he’s staring. You stop the spinning ring, aiming for a more subtle slight twist. Still, Sherlock watches.
“You don’t have to do that, you know?” he says, quiet yet firm.
“Do what? I’m not doing anything.” You say, knowing you’ve been caught but not wanting to admit it.
“You’re neurodivergent, aren’t you?” Sherlock replies with a question of his own rather than answering yours.
“I am, but I don’t see what that has to do with my case.”
“Absolutely nothing, but it does confirm I was correct in that you were in fact doing somethingjust now, despite your insistence otherwise. More accurately, you were trying to stop yourself from doing something. You were stopping yourself from stimming, which I found it necessary to point out that you do not have to try and do. Not here.”
You sputter the start of a self-defence that sounds like anything but actual words in the English language, before Sherlock stops you. “Self-stimulatory behaviour is perfectly natural. It is not something that should be interrupted, especially for someone like yourself. Ourselves. It’s our body’s way of regulating from a heightened emotional state or overstimulation in the environment. I’m guessing you already know all of this, but grew up in a home that didn’t allow for such things. So, you began to squash the impulse. A habit you maintain to this day.”
He’s right. Of course he is. That’s not what intrigues you, though. Instead, it is a single word. “Ourselves?”
Sherlock nods. “Indeed. I was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder as a child. Then, it was called Asperger’s syndrome, but as I understand it, that is an outdated term. No matter. My point is that I had a family rather similar to yours. In fact, I’m quite certain the only reason they tolerated any of my behaviour at all is because my neurodivergence allowed for a level of genius they would never experience. I was something to brag about to all their friends. Of course, that didn’t mean they didn’t try to eradicate some of my more undesirable symptoms. I left home far earlier than most children for that reason. Ever since, I’ve allowed myself to just be in any way I wish. Safe food, safe clothing, safe people….I’m sure you’ve gathered this by now, but even my work is a special interest of sorts. One that I would not be able to engage in if I did not allow myself to stim. Even the most interesting crime scenes still often involve a great deal of overstimulation. Stimming allows me to shake that off and focus on the facts. It’s a necessity that I don’t intend to ever deny myself. You shouldn’t either. As long as you don’t add to the bullet holes in the wall over there, I’m sure no one will judge you too harshly.”
You smile as he suddenly bounds out the door. “Now, let’s go catch a kidnapper!”